#official nod squad

[lipglossanon]

Desire (I’m Hungry)

Corrupt Cop!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

<< previous installment >>

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Leon POV, dark thoughts, being filmed without consent aka Leon’s making a sex tape and reader has no clue, dirty talk, daddy kink, kissing, biting, blood kink, oral (m & f receiving), pussy spanking, clit biting, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread ✌️

today marks one year that I officially published my first Leon x reader fic that just happened to be Corrupt Cop Leon! 💜 so happy anniversary to the OG! 😘

Title from Desire by Meg Myers 💜

It’s not unusual to see a police cruiser parked outside the library on any given night. Especially when you’re inside, finishing up whatever class work you can before heading home. 

Leon leans back against the passenger door, one leg crossed over the ankle of the other, arms folded over his chest. His walkie’s turned off since he’s not on duty and he can hear the whispers of people passing him by, from the curious looks of kids to loose women giving him sultry smiles. Except for a cursory glance, his mind doesn’t linger on any single one of them. 

Drumming his fingers on his bicep, he tilts his head as he catalogs the outside of the building. He’s done this a thousand times at this point. Even before you knew he came around, when he would follow you home and watch you from his squad car. He kind of misses those days.    

The sound of a door opening pulls his attention up the library steps. Once you fully step out into the cool evening air, your eyes immediately seek him out. Satisfaction coils deep in his gut as your face breaks out into a bright smile at seeing him. Although he loved quietly following you, having you seek him out is much better. His eyes track your body as you carefully take the stairs and walk over to him. 

He only had to chastise you one time about not rushing down the steps. (You cried so prettily on his cock after he spanked your pussy raw. But the lesson stuck and he hasn’t had to remind you once, such a good girl). 

“Hi,” your soft voice hits his ears and he’s smirking at your shyness. 

“Hi, pretty girl, ready to go?”

You nod, “All set. Thank you for taking me home.”

“Of course, don’t want you getting hurt,” he murmurs, uncrossing his arms to brush a thumb across your cheekbone, “here, let me take your bag.”

Eyes fond, you hand him your book bag and wait for him to open the passenger door for you. Watching as you sit, he sees when your skirt rucks up around your thighs and it makes his blood run hot, pulse quickening in his neck. He walks around the trunk of the car, placing your bag in the back before climbing into the driver seat. 

He checks his mirrors and blind spots before pulling away from the curb. As soon as he’s on the street, his hand grips the dough of your thigh closest to the gear shift. A giddy thrum of excitement bleeds through his thoughts when he hears your little gasp. You’re so easy for him. His pretty, perfect girl. 

He no longer stifles those thoughts or impulses that once might have gotten him locked up. You invite his dark urges in with wet eyes and an even wetter cunt. Today’s special even if you don’t know it. He’s planned a little surprise, something he’s been wanting to do for a while now. 

Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he watches you surreptitiously, taking in the  changing expressions as he drives closer and closer to your house. Just seeing your face makes him ache all the way down to his marrow. He wants to sink his teeth into you until he tastes blood.

“Should we eat out for dinner?”

He glances over at you and tightens his fingers, giving your thigh a quick squeeze. 

“Sure, sweetheart.”

He parks outside your house, letting you walk up to your front stoop first as he grabs your bag. You unlock the door as soon as he joins you, his hand palming your lower back to usher you into the house. Dropping your school bag down onto the floor, he uses both hands to grip your hips, pushing you back against the closed front door. 

Desire pulses throughout his body, a deep seated hunger that makes him want to crack open your rib cage and crawl inside. He’s sure your beating heart would sate this visceral reaction to the possessive want that engulfs his thoughts.

But kissing you will have to suffice for now. 

Your lips part on a sigh as he licks into your mouth, tongue greedy and hot as he tastes you deeply. His fingers dig into your skin, thumbs pressed uncomfortably against your hip bones; he gloats to himself as the twinge of pain has you arching into him. If he could, Leon would rip you apart at the seams, swallow you whole til nothing’s left. 

You whimper into his harsh kisses while your hands grab onto his chest, badge nearly pricking your fingers as you try to find purchase against his uniform. He lets go of your waist to circle his fingers around your wrists, pushing them against the door on either side of your head. Pulling back, his sea dark eyes take in your dilated pupils and swollen lips. 

Now, he thinks, is the perfect time to drag you into your room.

Leon kisses you again, heatedly, pulling you into the bedroom with little preamble. For the surprise he’s been planning, he made sure to sneak into your house earlier in the day. He then hid a camera perfectly angled on your nightstand where you couldn’t see it. 

His mouth waters at the thought of filming everything he wants to do to you. Excitement heightens his aggressiveness. He can’t wait to take you apart in front of the lens, especially without you knowing. He shivers as he licks hungrily into your mouth. 

“Leon,” you whisper when he drags his mouth down to bite your neck, “thought we were going out to dinner?”

“Well, I am gonna eat you out,” he crudely states with a grin, “but first let’s see those pretty tits.”

Biting your bottom lip softly, you step back and pull your shirt off. His eyes watch as you nervously take off your bra and drop it into the floor with your shirt. Leon lets his hands reach out to grope and pinch your hard nipples. His cock throbs where it’s trapped in his pants.

“Get naked, pretty girl, wanna see you,” he coaxes, smile wicked when you do as he says.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, he faces the camera, pulling you down into his lap, your back to his chest. The juxtaposition of having you completely naked on his lap while he’s in uniform makes him bite down on your shoulder hard. You squeal and try to move, but he wraps his arms around you, pinning you in place. 

After you settle down, his hands move to squeeze the fat of your breasts until it dimples between his fingers. Your nipples tighten even further under his palms as he runs them across the stiff buds. 

“Such a good girl,” he kisses the side of your neck, eyes glinting when they look over to the hidden device, “bet that cute pussy’s soaked, sweetheart.”

Squirming against him, you whine pitifully, grinding your wet cunt down onto his bulge, “Daddy, please.”

“Such a well mannered girl,” he coos sweetly, luring you into relaxing against him further. 

The flat of his fingers come down in a hard slap against your pussy, a sharp gasp parting your pretty lips. Leon spanks across your fat cunt until you’re hiccuping little cries, tears streaming down your face to drip onto your chest. Even with the pain, you still part your legs for him, letting him drag his fingers across your wet slit. 

He wonders absently as he toys with your clit if you’d let him bite you here, sink his teeth in your sweet little bud til you scream. That thought alone has precum dripping from his tip, making his briefs damp. 

“Such a slutty cunt,” he whispers in your ear, feeling you shiver, “like when daddy shows you who’s in charge, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir,” you sniffle wetly. 

That ugly need to hurt you ramps up again and he pinches your clit roughly until you bleat in pain. 

“Good girl,” he chuckles, fingers softly petting your cunt, “my perfect girl.”

“All yours, daddy,” you automatically respond. 

Your voice is hoarse from all your crying and it makes his chest burn like his solar plexus is caving in.

“That’s right,” he croons, cupping your breasts in his hands, thumbs swiping across your nipples, “daddy’s got such a smart pretty girl.”

He wants to laugh at how those words make you press against him, praise making you stupid and pliant for him.

“Get on the floor,” he pushes at your shoulders, “think that sweet mouth deserves a reward.”

Eagerly, you slide off his lap onto your knees, turning around to face him. He unbuckles his belt and undoes his pants, pushing them down his thighs so he can tuck his briefs underneath his balls comfortably. His weeping cock bobs in front of your face, tip brushing across your cheek and smearing precum across your skin. 

“Kiss it, baby, show me how much you want daddy in your mouth,” he grins at you. 

Your shyness just makes him harder as you press a feather light kiss to his dick. He watches as your lips and tongue work in tandem to gently kiss and lick at his fat cockhead. You sigh hard enough he feels the dampness of your breath before your tongue lathes underneath the foreskin, lapping up the sticky precum dripping from his slit. You moan while you taste him, eyes fluttering closed as you get more and more eager at sucking him off. 

Thighs twitching, he grunts when you suck him into your warm mouth, tongue cupping the head when you withdraw, lips tightly wrapped around the tip of his dick. He feels as you circle the head of his cock with your tongue, dipping the slick muscle into his slit to draw out more precum. 

“Good girl,” he groans when your mouth drops down to kiss and suck at his balls. 

Leon keeps his gaze on you as you try to suck both of his balls into your wet mouth, whimpering when you can only fit one. Smearing your own spit across your face, you nuzzle into his squishy sac, mouthing and lapping at the sensitive skin before sucking each of his balls again. 

Whining, you eagerly lap at his sac, tongue slowly tracing up the seam. Your lips meet the base of his cock before you flick your tongue back around his balls. Reaching down, he grabs the back of your neck, pulling your mouth up to suck on his cock. A choked off moan reverberates around his dick as your lips part to sink down around the first few inches. His abs tense when he feels the spit drip down his dick onto his balls. 

“So good, sweetheart,” he murmurs, halfway tempted to gag you on his dick— maybe even choke you on it til you pass out.

More precum blurts across your tongue as he pictures your eyes rolling back, body going limp from lack of air. His fingers spasm around your neck as the tip bumps into the back of your throat. Bucking up into your mouth, the tightness around his cock increases and you retch loudly. 

“Take it or I’m going to get mean with you,” he narrows his eyes down at you.

You cough again, a wet dirty sound as he pulls his cock halfway out of your mouth only to press back in deep, the fat head kissing the back of your throat immediately. It would be easy to keep you here, swallowing around him til he came or you blacked out. His eyes cut to the hidden camera before flicking back down to you. Maybe next time he’ll try it, but for now he wants to make this last longer for the video. 

Rolling his neck til it cracks, he lets you go, watching with hidden glee as you pull off with a gross coughing fit and wet eyes. The dough of your thighs press together drawing his gaze where he can actually see a light sheen of slick coating them. Taking a hitched shuddery breath, you lean forward and kitten lick the head, soft tongue cleaning up any precum spilling from the slit down his cock. 

A flash of your mouth split open and a bloody chin makes Leon place his hands under your armpits and yank you up, turning sideways to toss you onto the bed. He crawls on top of you and kisses you hard enough to bruise. Sinking teeth into your lower lip, he brings his vision to life as he works the wet skin til it splits, the warm taste of pennies flooding his mouth. 

Growling like an animal, he sucks your bloody lip raw. He finally leans up, taking in the mess of your mouth with unreasonable pride. 

“So pretty,” he smiles down at you, blood coating his teeth, “my sweet girl.”

“Yours,” you nod dazedly, eyes blown in arousal, “m’yours, daddy.” 

He moves off the bed and begins to undress, taking extra care to set his holster and gun on top of your dresser. Once his uniform is off, he lays it out on a nearby chair in order to keep it off the floor. It just wouldn’t do to get it unnecessarily dirty. 

He climbs back onto the bed, eyes zeroing in on your bleeding mouth with the awareness of a predator tracking prey. He smiles and grabs your thighs, shoving them up until they’re nearly touching your shoulders. 

“Think it’s time I kiss my sweet girl hello,” his eyes drop from yours down to your soaked cunt, “aww, she always cries so hard for me, baby.”

He shuffles down onto his stomach, hands still pressing on your thighs as he leans in and kisses your swollen cunt.

“Greedy little pussy,” he chuckles derisively, “always begging for more.”

He slides his hands down from your thighs to the outside of your cunt, pulling your pussy lips apart to spit on your clenching hole. 

“Daddy!” 

He hears your voice crack before you gasp when he plunges his tongue into your pussy, fluttering the wet muscle as deep as possible into your spasming walls. You always taste like heaven, like he could die suffocated on your cunt and he’ll never find anything better. His eyes roll back when your slick floods his mouth, clit fat and swollen against his nose as your cunt squeezes down on his tongue.

Leon’s tongue laps at your hole before he runs the wet muscle up your slit to suck sloppily at your clit. He’s being as messy as possible; he knows you love it when your cunt’s coated in his spit after eating you out. The only thing better is when he cums all over your pussy, making you wear your panties to keep that sweet cunt wet and sticky with his seed. 

Your cries and whines fall on deaf ears as he eats you out at his leisure. He makes you cum twice before finally trying out the little earworm that has eaten away at his brain since earlier. Thighs shaking from the last orgasm, you're completely out of it when Leon dips his head and bites down on your fat throbbing clit. 

He growls and humps the bed as you thrash under him, hips trying to buck up to throw him off, hands digging into his hair but he doesn’t budge. He closes his teeth even tighter around your swollen bud and you screech, legs kicking out at him. Leon laughs at you, arms coming up and pinning your lower half down onto the bed. He readjusts his mouth and bites your clit harder than before. 

“No, no, daddy! Please!”

You sob brokenly and Leon feels like he’s going to cum all over the sheets. Letting go, Leon pulls his mouth away for a second wanting to see your tortured little bundle of nerves. It looks so swollen that it makes his jaw ache. He licks and kisses over your clit until you’re whimpering in pleasure, hips writhing as Leon bathes your cunt with rough swipes of his tongue. He works you up to another orgasm and right as your pussy cums, clenching around nothing, he sinks his teeth back into your clit with a groan. 

“Daddy, daddy! Leon, please!”

Your cunt gushes slick as the pain morphs into pleasure, babbling and pleading for more even as Leon sucks your bud into his mouth, hot tongue circling your abused clit. 

“Ready for daddy to to fuck your pretty little cunt?” He rumbles, tongue lashing across your bundle of nerves making you whine. 

“Please, daddy.”

There’s drool and blood all down your chin and he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid his eyes upon. If he were a better man, he would tell you so. 

Leon crawls back up your body, dragging his cock against your thighs until the tip bumps against your sopping wet pussy. His eyes catalog your wince when his dick drags across your clit and he kisses you until spit runs down your jaw. Balancing himself on one forearm, he brings his other hand down to notch the tip of his cock at your soaked hole. 

“Let me in, pretty girl,” he licks up the blood on your chin as he works his cock into your cunt, “let me stuff this soft little pussy with cum.”

Keening high in your throat, you grind your head against the pillow and Leon takes that opportunity to savagely bite into the side of your neck. He can feel you wheeze in pain underneath his teeth at the same time your pussy walls flutter and clamp down on his cock. Sweet satisfaction hums like electricity in his blood. He trails kisses from the nasty bite mark up to your ear, nipping the lobe. 

“You like what I do to you, don’t you, sweetheart?” He kisses your temple before shifting until his forearms are on either side of your neck, hips rolling back before thrusting forward. 

The tight clutch of your pussy makes him dizzy with lust, knowing he can do anything to you and you’ll not only take it, but like it. The camera is practically an afterthought by this point. Leon’s focus is now on making your hot little pussy cream all over his cock before he shoots his load deep into your hole. 

“Always take it so well,” his baritone rumbles low in his chest and you shudder under him, “got daddy addicted to your soft chubby pussy, baby, always wanna be buried in her.”

Your nails dig into his skin but he loves the stinging scratches you leave on him; proof that you need him just as much as he needs you. He has half a mind to drag this out for hours and hours, but he really wants to send the tape over to Chris. Smugly show off his pretty girl and the sweet sounds she makes for him. 

Leon prides himself on keeping his cool even when he’s buried to the hilt inside your deliciously hot pussy. This time, his nerves fray quicker than he’s used to; too many fun things have happened and all in front of the camera so he can look back on it later. Being able to watch your face again as he bites your clit makes his hips rabbit fast and hard against yours, pussy squelching loudly between your bodies. 

“Got me so worked up,” he laughs, one forearm moving all he can glide his fingers down your side and across your hip, seeking out your sore clit, “squeeze the cum out of me, sweetheart, let daddy give you a nice thick creampie.”

“Ohhh,” you moan shakily, “daddy, please, w’nt it.”

“You’re gonna get it,” he promises, voice dark, “you’re gonna take everything I give you.”

The hot pulsing walls of your pussy makes his hips flex harder, bullying his cock into your cervix, needing to get as deep as possible in your body. 

“Sucking me in,” he murmurs, fingers gently circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, “your sweet cunt’s made for this, isn’t she baby?”

“Yes, Leon, ‘m made for you,” you babble out, eyelashes sticking together from tears as you pant and moan, “daddy, I’m g’nna cum.”

“Fuck, then do it, pretty girl, cream all over me, work this cum into that sweet hole,” he groans when your walls clamp down on his dick. 

He swipes across your clit a few more times as he ruts his cock in and out of your pussy, grinding the fat tip across your g-spot until your back arches, a loud scream pouring from your mouth. 

“Good girl,” he praises, knowing you can't hear him, “doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

As your soft walls pulse and flutter around his dick, he adjusts his hands to hold him up above your body so he can rail you into the mattress. 

“Too much,” you whimper, “Leon, s’too deep.”

“Shhh,” he reaches down to twist a nipple until you clench around his cock, “let me rearrange those guts, baby, daddy needs to cum, too.”

You nod, tears falling down your temples to collect on the pillow and his hips snap harder— the sight of you crying on his cock always does him in quick. He thrusts half a dozen more times before his hips begin to stutter. Burying himself balls deep, Leon’s cock kicks and throbs while he spills hot sticky cum all inside your clenching pussy walls. 

While he fills your cunt with rope after rope of thick jizz, he groans long and low against your ear, “Perfect baby, taking it so well for me.”

“Leon,” you whisper lightly, hands carding through his hair and giving him goosebumps.

He settles his body weight down on you, cock plugging up your pussy so his cum doesn’t leak out onto the bedspread. 

“Gotta surprise for you,” he kisses the side of your head and slowly maneuvers until he can quickly shuffle you around to face the hidden lens. 

He pulls out his half chubbed cock, cream colored slick oozing from your pussy when he spreads it open. 

Smiling up at you, he nods to your nightstand, “Smile for the camera, sweetheart. Show’em what a messy little pussy looks like.”

He watches in utter delight as your brows pinch together before realization dawns across your face. Tears bead in your eyes and he chuckles. 

“Aww don’t be that way,” he croons, fingers digging into your used hole to work more cum into spilling out between your thighs, “be a good girl and let everyone see the creampie daddy left in your pretty cunt.”

Your cubby lips stay spread as he fingers more of his cum out of your hole. 

“So swollen baby,” he groans, fingers glancing across your fat clit, “can’t wait to watch this back.”

You squirm but he catches the hitched breath and dilated eyes. Grinning darkly, he nuzzles against your ear. 

“Maybe next time it’ll be a livestream of how I ream my pretty girl’s tight little pussy,” he kisses the shell of your ear as you moan quietly, “yeah, or maybe we’ll get someone in to watch me take you apart.”

You shiver and writhe against him, pussy sucking his fingers in even as he slowly drags them out of your spent cunt. 

“Guess we’ll need to save that for later though,” he clicks his tongue, moving away from you to shut the camera off, “now let’s go get a shower so we can go out to dinner, sweetheart.”

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #corrupt cop!leon kennedy #corrupt cop!leon #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #au #resident evil smut

[adascore]

CAPTAIN OBVIOUS

pairings: lionesses x lioness!reader

warnings: sarina scaring the hell out of us. fluff.

author’s note: I know this isn’t how captaincy is announced, but all of this is fictional anyway so it doesn’t even matter :)

masterlist

•••••

''Is everyone in?'' Sarina asked, scanning the room to ensure the complete attendance of the squad and necessary staff.

A few heads nodded at the manager. ''Good.'' The Dutchwoman concluded.

''Before we talk about the upcoming game against North Macedonia, I would like to say something else.'' Sarina began the team meeting, her gaze lingering on Y/N.

The player curiously turned her head to Mary, who was sitting next to her. The goalkeeper merely shrugged in response.

''I didn't want to do it like this, but I think this is the only way to get my message across… Y/N, can you please come stand next to me?'' Sarina's invitation sounded more like a demand, leaving the striker slightly confused at the stern tone.

Y/N hesitated for a moment but stood up, making her way to the front of the room as requested by Sarina.

Glancing at her teammates, she found it challenging to read their expressions. Some were nervously biting their nails, while others were avoiding eye contact altogether.

Strange, the striker thought.

Sarina maintained her serious tone, making Y/N's heart race with anticipation. ''We have noticed some issues lately…'' The room fell silent, everyone's eyes fixed on the player, who was growing more bewildered and scared by the second. She tried to recall any recent incidents that might have triggered this discussion.

''The communication on the pitch, the communication off the pitch, the passes, the attacks… it is all anyone has been talking about on this team.'' The coach's vague explanation was making her worried, because it implied people had been speaking about her to Sarina.

''It forced us to reassess your position in this team.'' The Dutchwoman continued, maintaining her stoic stone.

It was a difficult task to make the Lyon captain nervous, but Sarina was doing an amazing job so far. ''My… position… on the team?'' Y/N spoke slowly, not quite knowing what to make of all of this.

''Yes, we're sorry to tell you this,'' she turned towards Arjan, their assistant coach, who handed her something the player wasn't able to see, ''but you are our new, official captain.'' Sarina's expression did a complete 180, a big grin on her face.

The room erupted into cheers, her teammates bursting out laughing at the player staring at their coach in stunned disbelief.

''Wait, what?'' Y/N mumbled as Sarina handed her the captain's band.

''Did you really think I was going to kick you off the team?'' The older woman exclaimed, surprised her player actually fell for it.

Y/N awkwardly chuckled. ''I mean- you sounded super serious! You should become an actress or something.''

''Congratulations, captain!'' Her team engulfed her in a group hug, feeling pats all over her head.

''I was wondering why none of you were looking at me.'' The newly appointed captain said, everything making sense now.

''I was having such a hard time,'' Ella sighed, before glancing over at Mary, ''you were awful!''

''What? Tooney!'' The goalkeeper exclaimed, clearly offended.

Alessia chimed in. ''You kept hiding your face cause you couldn't contain your smile.''

''I'm just happy for my friend!'' Mary defended herself, trapping Y/N in her arms.

Some of the girls made ‘Awh'-noises, dramatically swooning over the striker-goalkeeper duo.

''Took you long enough to figure it out.'' Mary teased, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

Y/N scoffed, slightly offended. ''How was I supposed to know?''

''I'm roomies with the captain.'' Alex proudly stated, her eyes sparkled with pride as she side hugged her roommate.

''That's not fair! Alex already has an advantage over everyone!'' Georgia interjected, loudly.

Y/N frowned. ''I've been captain for like 2 seconds, what are you talking about, G?'' She chuckled, befuddled by everyone's enthusiasm.

''You'll understand what I mean when she's suddenly being a lot nicer to you.'' Georgia explained, making wary eyes at the blond defender.

Lucy approached her and grabbed the captain's band from her hand. ''Come on, put it on.'' She held it open for her so Y/N could easily slide her arm through.

As soon as it was tightly attached to her arm, the entire room broke into cheers again.

''You wear it well, Skipper.'' Lucy teased with a playful grin.

She felt someone hugging her from behind. ''Congratulations, darling.''

''Thanks, Jill.'' The new captain smiled, glad her older teammate was happy for her.

Girls like Jill, Ellen, Alex, Lucy and Jordan had been there since she first joined the England team- it was a special moment for them as well to see their younger teammate take over the reins of the team.

''Congrats, sweetheart. You deserve this so much.'' Ellen embraced her, her fellow striker grinning from ear to ear.

''Thanks, El.''

''Speech! Speech! Speech!'' A couple of the girls (Ella, Georgia, Keira and Leah, to be specific) started chanting.

Y/N chuckled at the impromptu request for a speech, feeling the weight of the moment. She raised her hands, signaling for a moment of quiet amidst the cheers.

''Okay, okay!'' She began, a genuine smile on her lips. ''First of all, I want to thank Sarina, and whoever decided this, for giving me this huge honour, and for trusting me to lead this incredible team. I know to some people it's just a band, but I do feel a responsibility to lead by example and for me this means so much more.''

She paused, letting her words sink in. ''I joined this team when I was 18 years-old, and I've experienced so much already. I just want to thank all of you, and also the teammates that aren't here today, for making this such a beautiful group of people and for making this genuinely fun to do. I'm lucky to have you guys as my teammates.''

Her gaze swept across the faces of her teammates, feeling herself getting emotional. ''I will continue to do my best. This isn't just about me, it's about all of us. We're here to support one another and to enjoy all of this together.''

''I'm looking forward to the rest of the year, and it might be to early to say this, but fuck it,'' she chuckled, resulting in laughter from the entire room, ''this summer is ours!''

The meeting room echoed with applause, and somehow she ended up in the middle of a group hug.

Sarina and Arjan watched on as their team celebrated together, content smiled on their faces.

''This is the team.'' He told his boss, a confident tone.

The Dutchwoman nodded. ''This is the team.''

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #engwnt #lionesses x reader #engwnt x reader

[wileys-russo]

Could you write something for Alessia where reader is her sister and gets her first england call up. I feel like less would be such a good older sister, slightly protective and over bearing but also just making sure reader is fitting in and has no trouble.

the call up II a.russo x sister!reader

the call up II a.russo x sister!reader

you'd been sat with a few of your club team mates watching a movie together at beths house when you'd gotten the call, shock written all over your face as you glanced down and saw the contact name.

"go! answer it." beth whispered with an encouraging nod as you hurried to your feet and raced out of the living room, hyper aware of the eyes watching as you did so.

accepting sarina's call the dutch woman got straight to the point. you'd seen her in the crowd at a few of the home games you'd started in, and sure enough she advised she'd been impressed with what she'd seen, offering you a spot at the next camp with the senior team.

she was honest in the chances of you getting minutes in the game against scotland were slim, but the opportunity to train with the senior team and absorb and learn was there and waiting as you eagerly accepted, sarina advising she would see you at camp before ending the call.

your first call was to your parents who were over the moon, promising they'd keep it quiet until the squad for camp was officially announced, though within a few seconds your phone lit up with a flurry of notifications as the news was put into the family group chat making you roll your eyes with a fond smile.

you stood to return back to your team mates but your phone lit up with another call, your sisters name and contact photo she despised flashing across the screen making you snicker with amusement at the unflattering 0.5 angle of her with bed hair and a scowl in high definition.

"hi less." you greeted with a chuckle. "you still haven't changed my contact photo have you?" the blonde sighed knowingly as you laughed properly looking at it again.

"of course not, and i won't be anytime soon unless i take an uglier photo." you teased as she mocked you under your breath. "you're such a little shit. but anyway, why the hell did i have to find out about your call up from luca?" alessia scoffed accusingly and you didn't need to be on facetime to imagine the stern frown which would be plastered across her features.

"because no one in this family knows how to keep anything to themselves, you especially." you rolled your eyes, sending a smile and a thumbs up to beth who poked her head in to check on you, the older girl sending you a warm smile back and retreating to the living room.

"i should have been your first call, i'm your only sister and i'll be at camp too. your first call up to the senior squad is a huge deal!" alessia lectured before dropping tone and congratulating you, the two of you having imagined for years what it would be like if you ever made the senior team together.

you were disappointed not to make the world cup roster but having the extra time to focus on football with your club had benefited you immensely in other ways, and you just needed to consistently remind yourself that everything happened for a reason.

you'd started off your professional career with a short term contract at bristol city, and after a year of starting and a semi successful season you were offered a three year contract with manchester united which had always been your goal.

alessia had already known of the offer before you did of course, ella and mary having to practically hold her down to stop her calling to pressure you into accepting the moment she found out.

but none the less it was an offer too good to decline for any club, let alone your childhood dreams of one day playing for united coming true and to get the opportunity to play alongside and see alessia every day.

the two of you fought tooth and nail growing up as sisters did and always over the most ridiculous of things.

but regardless of that and the near five year age gap you were always close, your relationship only strengthening once alessia went away to college and you weren't living on top of one another anymore.

you'd only played a single season with united, most of it spent on the bench or as an impact sub, but you loved the girls and found yourself falling hard for manchesters charm.

which is why the loan had been quite the shock, no real warning given when the club accepted an offer from spurs on your behalf, both you and grace traded with the hopes of gaining proper game time and starting minutes under your belts.

alessia had kicked off the moment it went public, first at you for not telling her and then at everyone else who would listen to her frustrations which you knew mostly stemmed from a worry of how you would go moving to a different place and a different team all on your own.

only, you weren't alone. with grace by your side you adjusted easily into this new challenge in your life, you and the midfielder growing even closer than you were when you were at united, and now you both found no trouble calling each other a best friend, attached at the hip and practically inseparable.

"-i'll come and pick you up friday for dinner for mums birthday. i love you!" alessia confirmed, clearing pausing waiting for you to say it back. "don't you dare hang up and not say it back you little shit." your sister scoffed as you grinned, forever finding it all too easy to get under her skin.

"love you lessi, see you friday!" with that you hung up, hearing the girls in the other room start to argue over what to order for dinner as you took a moment to let it all sink in.

you'd finally done it.

~

"you've got your kits yeah? and the tracksuits, and the training ones, and your socks, and your cleats, and you need to be careful you're not wearing anything that isn't adidas branded if you're being filmed or there's pictures taken by the social media team-" your sister lectured over the phone as you rolled your eyes and flicked her to speaker.

"-then you'll get the schedule when you arrive but i'll show you where everything is anyway. if we're not roomed near each other i'll still come and find you every morning and we can have breakfast before training and i'll run you through the daily schedules-" you started to tune her out as you flicked through your closet, humming every now and then to appease her.

"-are you even listening to me?" you only hummed again, completely checked out of the conversation now as you wrestled to get your suitcase closed. "oh my god you've got me on speaker and you've left the room again like last time. OI!" you winced and zoned back in as she shouted loudly.

"no! i'm right here idiot. but i know you love the sound of your own voice so who was i to interrupt?" you chuckled, grunting as you sat on top of your case and finally got it closed.

“ha ha ha, very funny. what the hell are you doing anyway? why are you grunting and groaning are you working out right now?” your sister questioned. “no! im trying to close my case, which i now have!” you sighed victoriously zipping it up.

“you haven’t finished packing?” alessia shouted as you rolled your eyes. “less.” you warned, muting her momentarily as she ignored you and started to rant and rave about how you needed to step up and be an adult.

returning a few moments later you unmuted her, catching her mid story of something you really weren’t all that interested in.

“oh no less you’re breaking up I can’t hear you!” you spoke in a monotone, voice dripping with sarcasm as you scrunched a piece of paper and made glitchy noises with your mouth.

“seriously? you can’t even just say you don’t want to talk anymore? you have to make up some bullshit excuse and-“ her words fell short as you clicked the red end call button with a chuckle, tossing the ball of paper over your shoulder.

you watched the texts fly in from her, unhappy with your attitude and warning you needed to be mature on camp which you silenced with a roll of your eyes, interrupted by your security buzzer going.

“sorry don’t want any.” you grinned as grace’s head appeared in the security camera, the girl pulling a face and flipping you off as you buzzed her in. “cars here! im not comin up, you’re comin down. hurry!” the brunette warned as your eyes widened and you rushed about making sure you had everything.

you jolted in surprise as a knock sounded on your door, flinging it open and frowning when grace stood there with a grin. “aih ya dickhead the car isn’t here yet it’s not even ten, too easy!” your best friend laughed pushing past you as she dumped her own bags by the door.

“you are such a wind up.”

~

“you nervous?” you asked grace, tapping her knee to gain her attention as the car turned into st georges park and she pulled her headphones down around her neck.

“nah not really. you shouldn’t be either! we wouldn’t have been called up if they didn’t think we wasn’t ready, and your sister is here anyway to look after ya.” grace reminded with a smile, pushing your head with a wink as the two of you rough housed for a bit before the car parked up.

“cameras rollin. how’d i look then?” grace fluttered her eyelashes making you grin. “ugly as ever. come on hillary!” you slid out of the car before she could retaliate, groaning at the nickname.

you knew from the way your phone had been blowing up that your sister was already here, having arrived earlier this morning with lotte and beth.

so it wasn’t any real surprise when you’d hardly stepped a foot out of the car and she appeared, hovering at the top of the stairs with ella plastered to her side who sent you and grace a grin and a wave.

both of you grabbing your bags you flashed a smile and fist bumped the media staff who were filming entrances as you and grace ascended the stairs.

“ready for your first camp girls?” you and grace both echoed back a yes, grinning at the camera before someone wiggled their way in between you both and slung their arms over your shoulders.

"big sister gonna look out for you then?" the staff laughed as alessia beamed and squeezed both you and grace tightly. "well she's got big shoes to follow, we've been working on her backheel." alessia joked, the camera crew moving toward the next van which pulled up which was full of the city girls.

"less get off." you huffed, grace wiggling away and tackling ella in a hug, the taller of the two dragging them inside in a headlock as your sister only gripped you tighter.

"absolutely not, roomie." the older girl grinned smugly as your face fell. "oh you've gotta be kidding me!" you groaned throwing your head back in annoyance.

"she's messin with you, we don't share rooms anymore on camp." a new voice sounded behind you as you managed to throw off alessia's arm and charge toward them. "mazza!" you cheered happily, launching at her as she caught you with a grunt.

"baby russo!" the girl cheered in the same tone before dropping you back to your feet. "just my actual name is fine thank you." you shoved her playfully with a roll of your eyes. "not this camp or any camp after, that is your name now. or we could go with B.R for short?" mary teased tugging on your ears.

"i'm quite fond of her childhood nickname." alessia chimed in with a smirk as you sent her a murderous glare. "don't you dare, or i'll spill one of your secrets. and we both know that i have plenty of them to choose from!" you smirked back as her face fell.

"rat." alessia muttered, nodding for you to follow her as she grabbed your bags and headed for the elevator to show you to your room.

"we'll talk later. you spill some of those secrets and theres more where this came from kid." mary whispered, sliding a tenner into your pocket with a pat and a wink.

~

you were mid dream when you first heard it, the repeated thudding which seemed to leak into your subconscious as suddenly you realized you weren't dreaming anymore and someone was knocking furiously on your door.

raising your head from your pillow you blinked groggily and rubbed your eyes so hard you saw stars, stumbling out of bed and tripping over the corner of the duvet where your foot got stuck in bed.

hitting the ground with a thud and a grunt the knocking stopped for a moment and you paused, unsure if you'd imagined it.

"for god sakes hurry up!" nope, didn't imagine it.

"what?" you retorted grumpily, mornings your least favourite time of day as you rubbed your face and your sister barreled in past you without so much as a greeting.

"go away alessia its too early!" you groaned, shutting the door and trudging back toward your bed. "you haven't even hung anything up? for god sakes this is a hotel this isn't your bedroom at home you can't just fling shit around and leave your mess everywhere like a tornado!" your sister lectured with a click of her tongue, busying herself picking things up and putting them away.

"i've not even been here for twenty four hours yet less surely that stick up your ass is gonna sting something terrible by the end of the week?" you grumbled, sliding back into bed as your sister shot you a filthy look at her shoulder.

"hilarious. but you have to be professional here and set a good reputation for yourself, especially your first camp. that means up on time, early for breakfast, one of the first to the pitch, extra reps in the gym-" you tuned her out, quite the expert at it by now, eyes slipping closed again.

"urgh get off!" you moaned as a weight settled on top of you, wheezing slightly as alessia made herself comfortable sitting on your back. "you have...forty six seconds to get up yourself before i drag you out of this bed by your ankles and we both know i will!" your sister threatened seriously, checking her watch.

"you're so fucking annoying. this is worse than when we both lived at home, at least then you also used to hate mornings!" you exhaled deeply, star fishing out on the bed as she wriggled and purposefully bore more of her taller form into you.

"twenty nine, twenty eight, twenty seven..." the blonde counted down ignoring your statements. "can hardly get up myself with you on top of me can i bigfoot?" you snapped, alessia rolling off of you and squealing as your leg kicked out to push her off the bed.

"right! three, two, one." and with that she flung the covers off, grabbing your ankles and true to her word yanking you out of bed, your body hitting the carpeted floor with a thump as she loomed over you.

"get dressed. if theres no pancakes when we get to breakfast i will be holding you personally responsible and you will pay for it!" your older sister warned, grabbing your top in hand and hauling you up to your feet, shoving a pile of clothes into your hand and pushing you toward the bathroom.

"stop manhandling me hagrid!" you snapped as alessia chose to ignore you, making your bed up and getting herself comfortable on top of it, scrolling through her phone as you snatched yours from the nightstand.

"hurry up!" you were trying to brush your hair back into something more presentable, face still puffy from your half asleep state as her fist thumped loudly against the door.

with a roll of your eyes you gave up, flipping your head and tying your hair up into a messy bun. poking at the bags under your eyes with a sigh, the impatient knocking continuing as you quickly covered them up with a few dabs of concealer.

"i hope you break your hand." you spoke in a monotone as you flung the door open, barely having ten seconds to step outside before her hands grabbed the collar of your jumper and dragged you out of the room.

"let go less! i'm not four years old trying to run away in a shopping centre for god sakes i don't need you to hold my hand i am an adult." you huffed, ripping your hand away from hers and storming off ahead to the elevator as alessia hung back for a second to wait for ella to catch up.

"might need this though? and everyone says you're the genius in the family." alessia held up your key card which was the only thing that allowed you to enter and exit the elevator, holding it out of your reach.

"say sorry for being so grumpy." alessia demanded with a smug smile as you tried to stretch for the card without luck, your sister always having had a head or two of height on you with her ridiculously long limbs.

"no! didn't you make a big song and dance about not being late for breakfast? because the only one making us late is you!" the older girl groaned as you punched her half heartedly in the stomach, snatching the key as she doubled over.

"mary she's tryna kill me!" you hid behind the taller keeper using her body as a shield as she joined you with grace in tow, alessia sending you daggers from across the elevator as mary chuckled but remained a nice protective barrier between the two of you anyway.

"alessia!" you protested as your sister snatched your plate, dumping what you'd already chosen and picking your food for you, pushing you away every few seconds with her spare hand as you tried to intervene.

"why are you such a mum? i can pick my own food!" you demanded which was dismissed with a flick of her hand, too busy chattering away to ella to pay you and your whinging any attention.

"you have to fuel your body properly and that means a balanced breakfast." the blonde lectured, holding your plate hostage in her hands as she walked off.

with your food held captive you were forced you to follow her as you sent grace a pleading look who only smirked and shook her head, sat at a different table than the one your sister sat down at.

"baby russo! where have you been hiding then? i missed you." lucy pulled you into a hug as you took your seat beside her and across from alessia who finally slid your plate over to you. "hiding from her!" you grumbled, stabbing your eggs and shooting alessia a glare who smiled and wiggled her fingers at you in a sarcastic wave.

you sighed and glanced down at your plate which granted was loaded, but not with everything you'd have put on it thanks to your sisters apparent new nutritionist qualifications.

your face lit up as mary joined the table, subtly dumping two hashbrowns and an extra piece of bacon onto your plate with a wink as she sat on your other side squishing you between her and lucy as the three of you fell into conversation.

"oi baby russo, sarina wants to see ya." you'd finished eating as millie suddenly appeared, nodding for you to follow her as your face paled a little, head swirling with a hundred worries of why she might want to see you, all of them negative.

"i can take her mills." your sister stepped in with a reassuring smile as millie headed off to grab breakfast. "come on." she stood with a flick of her head as mary squeezed your shoulder and stacked your empty plate on top of hers.

following after your sister you didn't speak a single word, holding your breath until you stepped out of the cafeteria and the noise and chatter of the team ceased, exhaling shakily.

"come here." your sister spoke softly and opened her arms as you settled into them, your own wrapping around her torso as she embraced you, chin resting on the top of your head.

"i know all you can think of is bad reasons why she wants to see you, but if you freak out and focus on all of the what ifs then you're going to ruin this opportunity for yourself before we even start." alessia murmured, rubbing your back comfortingly.

"she probably just wants to check how you're settling in and go through the motions with you. so stop overthinking because i can hear your tiny little brain going into a meltdown." she teased lightly as you cracked a smile.

she let you go but her arm slipped over your shoulder drawing you into her side as she walked you down to the office, pausing a couple doors down and turning you to face her.

"i love you, sarina loves you, the girls loves you. this is your moment, grab it with two hands and make the most of it yeah? show them why you got called up and why you've earned a place on this team." her hands settled on your shoulders as if trying to charge you up with confidence as you nodded.

she might be overbearing, overprotective and over dramatic at the best of times. but alessia would always be your big sister and secretly, you'd never tell her this, without her you wouldn't be half the human let alone the footballer you were, and it flooded you with relief to take the plunge into this next step of your career with her by your side.

again you didn't dare to tell her that for fear of the relentless teasing that would follow. but you didn't need to anyway, she already knew, because sisters always know.

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso imagine #alessia russo

[blue-jisungs]

love shot

summary. seungcheol loves playing cupid for you and jihoon because of you two dislike each other

warnings. good ol' e2l but also a mafia-ish setting so the usual: guns, gunshots, blood, cursing, telling people to die. also suggestive at some points !

word count. 7k-ish

author's note. idk whats this but enjoy!!! big shoutout to my beloved @wheeboo for proofreading and correcting my silly mistakes!!! ilysm mwah thank u from the bottom of my heart <333 ++ thank u @weird-bookworm for inspiring me like i wrote 5k of this in one sitting bc of u 🫵

the air in the room was heavy, everyone waiting in anticipation. there was some chatter, only from the most talkative members of the group, yet it was very quiet. the others like you, jihoon, or wonwoo sat in silence staring at the wooden table. 

suddenly the door opened and seungcheol came in, dressed in a black coat and his luxurious watch. 

this immediately stopped all noise and caused all eyes to look at him. 

“our plug just gave us the information that the group is meeting up at an abandoned factory. we’re still waiting for the precise location but i want you all to be ready” he announced, voice stern. the leader of the group scanned all the faces “we suspect it’s the old factory that used to produce cigarettes. since it’s quite big, we’ll need to divide into groups. i’ll also call for backup if my suspicions turn out to be true”

you nodded, eyes scanning a board behind seungcheol’s back. it had all the evidence and necessary photos but by now – because all of the six months you’ve been trying to catch this criminal group – you knew all their faces by heart. 

you were a crime fighting organization, one would call it the fbi. but you weren’t really… a government official. you often switched groups, just depending on who’s running low on staff. 

some groups, like the one you’ve been working with, had their permanent squad. only because their leader seungcheol (nickname s.coups) had been injured, you were called in to replace him. maybe not in leader duties but your combat abilities were very similar to his… which gained respect amongst the organization. 

you liked working with seventeen – that was their group name. they were all unique and special in different ways but also talented, skilled, and laser focused on their task. 

you even got to meet them outside the work field, like going biking with soonyoung and seokmin in your free time. or taking a culinary class with mingyu and hansol. and many many others. you really liked them and contrary to other groups you’ve worked with, you were sure you’ll keep in touch with them after the work is done. 

they all liked you too. except jihoon… you weren’t sure why but that was okay. he pissed you off too, like always using your mug even though you clearly stated it’s yours, constant snarky comments aimed at you (and your ironic ones fired back at him). you both just didn’t click… you tried to avoid each other, knowing that even a mere meeting on a hallway will cause a quarrel. 

which is why you’re all tensed up, legs and hands crossed together, because jihoon was late. he had to sit on the spot next to you and of course he’s manspreading, fakely oblivious to the fact that he’s almost shoving his knee into yours.

the door opened and an intern, taehyun, barged into the room. 

“u-oh. hello, everyone. our suspicions got confirmed, it’s the old cigarette factory. they should be there in an hour but we don’t know how many people will be there” he said, eyes focused on s.coups. the man nodded gently.

“thank you, taehyun. so we’ll bring back up, just in case. we don’t know if they’re armed, do we?” the leader asked the boy. taehyun hesitated.

“there’s no official information…” his voice trailed off. 

“but?” seungcheol rose his eyebrows, crossing his arms.

“if you mind my honest opinion, i think they’ll be armed. they always carry at least a gun” taehyun said, face serious. seungcheol sent him a warm smile.

“good point. thank you, taehyun. go now and tell the staff to prepare our vehicles” 

the intern nodded and left. if you weren’t used to sore muscles because of all the hours of training, your legs would start to cramp because of how squished your legs were in order to avoid touching jihoon. 

“good. then, soonyoung you’re going as usual: jun, minghao and chan. wonwoo, mingyu and vernon go together. rest of the team as usual so seokmin, seungkwan, jeonghan and joshua” seungcheol nodded and you swore you saw a ghost of a smile dance on his lips.

“and me?” jihoon asked, leaning forward. 

“you’re going with y/n. you’ll work as a pair to sneak from behind” the leader announced and before you could let out a yelp of surprise, he was already going towards the door. “let’s go” 

the sun has already settled before you arrived to the location. the ride there was silent, everyone rather serious about the moment: will you manage to capture the drug boss? he always keeps running away, as sand slips through fingers. it was starting to get on your nerves and you were determined to put a stop to it. 

arriving to your base, you noticed some extra cars. the backup arrived.��

in your all black uniforms, heavy boots and hidden knives behind your belt (and extra one in your left shoe), your team was ready. well, jihoon. 

“you’ll go first. entering from the back. we studied the building before so you should be able to know where to go more or less. as soon as you locate them, let us know” seungcheol said and put his hands on your and jihoon’s arm “and no fighting or i’ll fucking kill you” 

“yes, dad” you snickered and patted his hand.

“and don’t die, alright?” seungcheol rose his eyebrows.

“as if i would let that happen” jihoon snarled and shrugged off cheol’s hand, leaving. the leader nodded and you followed your partner, hand resting on your gun. 

you were lead to the building by the instructions in your in-ear. managing to slip in quietly, you were following jihoon. 

the building was consumed by darkness, nothing but silence. going through the corridors, you checked in all the rooms. 

finally getting to the main room with all the machinery, jihoon stopped in his tracks. he looked back at you, his dark eyes shining with pure focus. 

“do you hear it?” woozi asked, voice below a whisper. you frowned and suddenly heard it: 

distant chatter, footsteps, and a shuffle of something moving around. your eyes locked with his (and you became hyper aware that he had his gaze on you all the time), and you gave a small nod.

“i’ll try to locate them more or less. you go check the rest of the rooms… and let’s call backup” he ordered. his gaze lingered on you for a bit longer before he went into the darkness of the factory. 

you did as he said, your hand ready to pull out your gun any second. 

room by room – nothing. you knew the rest of the team already came inside since you could hear noises of combat. some shouts, things getting thrown. no gunshots… maybe they weren’t armed after all? 

for a while your heart skipped a beat. are they all okay? even… jihoon? 

you shook your head and while checking in another room, you didn’t notice anything strange. as you began to grow annoyed that all the action is taking place and you’re here, alone and without anything… you heard footsteps, rushed footsteps, as if someone was running away. 

you returned to the door, peeking out since the sound came from the corridor.

“fucking beomgyu… i’ll kill him. i knew there was something wrong with that boy” 

your eyes went wide, hearing the voice. it was the boss. you knew the voice (and him) too well. 

“do we need to do it?” you grunted, arms crossed. a thundering gaze that was supposed to scare seungcheol was rather amusing for him. 

“yes. you’re the only woman in our group” he said, shaking his head. 

“well, so what? he can go with his friends? with homies for a drink!” you grunted and paced around the room “i respect you as a leader, cheol. i really do. but you know how much i just don’t get along with jihoon…”

“hm, do you? i already see that you started calling him by his name, not his code name” seungcheol wiggled his brows and you came up to him, punching his arm. chuckles left the buffed man’s body and you realised he doesn’t care, at all.

“fuck you” you grunted, grabbing your bag “you owe me a drink after this” 

seungcheol’s laugh was the only thing that you heard even after leaving the room. 

arriving at the restaurant, you sighed. joining the seventeen group you wouldn’t even think that you’d be send to a “date” with your enemy to spy on your actual enemy. and yet, here you are. 

the chatter of people and clinking of glasses hit your ears, the inside of the building taking your breath away. it was so royal and rich, you felt small. well, no wonder that a mafia boss would dine here. and only here. 

“hello, ma’am. may i ask who are you here with?” a waiter asked, smiling politely.

“oh. the reservation is set for kwak jiho” you answered swiftly. the fake name was so ridiculous “is he here?”

“ah, yes. mr. kwak arrived shortly before you. let me lead the way” the waiter nodded and you followed them. 

there were so many stunning people. some of the faces you knew - due to their criminal record or just because they were celebrities. you made sure to check where your main concern was sitting. park chinhae was sitting there, in all his glory, sipping a drink. 

your eyes widened when you realised you’re sitting at the table right next to him. the waiter bowed gently and left, leaving you with jihoon. 

he stood up and walked up to you, grabbing your hand and placing a soft kiss atop of it. the action made you freeze, but nonetheless, you kept your façade as best as you could.

“you… you look stunning, my dear” he breathed out, eyes scanning over your figure. 

well, you figured that it’s a lifetime opportunity: having seungcheol’s black card to spend on the attire. so you went crazy, as anyone would. 

a little birdie (minghao) told you that red (especially the ruby shade) is one of jihoon’s favourite colours. so you picked a red dress, nothing too revealing yet having a nice cut to show your left leg. paired with a ruby lipstick and some pretty, sparkly jewellery off you went. you even decided to go to a professional hairdresser because who’s stopping you...? 

and apparently, it worked. or maybe jihoon was so used to seeing you in sweatpants and hoodies that this elegant side of you unexpectedly swept him off his feet. 

“thank you, baby. you don’t look bad yourself” you hummed and watched him put the chair away for you. jihoon was wearing an all black tuxedo and an expensive tie. his hair slicked back… he was quite handsome looking this way. not like you cared, of course. 

once you were in your seat and jihoon returned to his, you crossed your legs. your heel brushed against his leg and he raised his eyebrow. 

“i ordered some wine already, dear” he hummed and when you shifted your gaze to park chinhae, he just nodded. he knew. 

the nickname caused a swirl of butterflies to storm your stomach and for the nth time this day, you cursed seungcheol in your mind. 

you grabbed the menu that you already studied beforehand – the name of the dishes were code names for different question or orders. 

“which wine did you choose?” you asked, tapping the table. 

“château haut-brion” jihoon answered, eyes never leaving yours. nothing yet. 

“i see” you nodded. suddenly your mind goes blank – what are you supposed to talk about with jihoon? the two of you never met outside work. duh, you barely even talked normally at work… 

“what about the food? fancy anything?” he asked, shifting in his seat. you two had secret cameras and microphones that could catch the conversation happening next to you, so technically you wouldn’t have to do anything. however, you were curious if you’ll hear anything useful.

“i… i don’t know” you scoffed and put the menu down, biting your lip in wonder “i think i’ll wait for the waiter to recommend something”

jihoon was about to answer you when suddenly you heard a male voice.

“if i may interrupt…” 

you looked up and noticed park chinhae looking at you with a smirk dancing on his lips. he was sitting relaxed in his seat, almost as if he owned the place. 

“i couldn’t help but pay attention to such a beautiful lady and if you’re having a dilemma what to choose… i truly recommend lemony mussels with cherry tomatoes and potatoes” the man said, giving jihoon a look that you couldn’t crack. was it some sort of trying to assert dominance? or genuine help?

“ah… thank you mr…” you rose your eyebrow, waiting for his name.

“mr. park chinhae. but such a pretty lady can call me just chinhae” he smiled. you saw jihoon’s jaw clench. you leaned forward charmingly and tapped your red nails against the table.

“well, thank you chinhae. but i’m not a connoisseur of seafood, sadly. i appreciate your help though” you nodded with a playful smile.

“ah, no worries! then, let me take a guess: pork or beef?” he asked, full on ignoring jihoon. you couldn’t lie – the situation amused you. 

“lamb” was your reply, eyes focused on the drug boss. he looked at the man he was with and clicked his tongue.

“a woman of a taste, i see. good. such lady is a true gem” only now park chinhae’s landed at jihoon. almost threateningly “then my choice would be rosé-marinated grilled lamb leg with walnut salsa fresca”

you gasped, dramatically covering your mouth with your hand. 

“chinhae, you must be a regular here. that’s what i’ll settle for, then. thank you so much, i bet it’ll be delicious” you hummed. the man only winked in response and returned to his friend. 

silence fell between you and jihoon, his gaze on fire. was he… pissed?

“what? there’s too many things to choose from” you chuckled and nudged his leg. almost as if to say ‘behave’. 

“i’ll be sure to later remind you the dish name at my place” he snarled, his mask slipping off for a second. you let out a scoff, noticing the waiter.

“we’ll see if i even end up there” you teased and relaxed in your seat as the waiter came with wines. 

“may i take your order?” they asked. 

as you ordered the dish chinhae recommended to you, jihoon ordered sweet and spicy pork chops. a code name for ‘be careful’. you just rolled your eyes at him and once the waiter was gone, you saw a sudden glint in his ebony irises. 

“so, aeri… what were you up to this weekend?” he asked, the fake name sounding strange in his lips. 

“i went on a trip to yongin with my friends. we had a lovely time there” you hummed. with a corner of your eye, you noticed chinhae smile. well, it was his hometown after all. 

“oh, really? what did you do there?” jihoon asked and suddenly placed his hand down, close to yours. looking him in the eyes, the air in the room began to grow heavy. 

“we’re a little too old for amusement parks” you giggled and decided to start drawing shapes on his hand with the tip of your finger “so we settled to go see a traditional folk village and art museums, then we went to a bar or two at the end of the day”

jihoon was focused on you, as if the mafia boss next to you didn’t exist. the whole room felt empty, only you and jihoon on the room.

“and you? didn’t you miss me too much?” you teased and noticed the boss picked up his phone.

“i think about you every minute of the day, so obviously i missed you” he said ironically, drawing an eye roll from you “i just stayed at home and binge watched the series you recommended me”

“really? alice in borderland?” you asked, stunned. you didn’t recommend it to jihoon, to be precise, but to be fair you were talking about it a lot lately.

jihoon shrugged and from the side, you overheard a piece of rumble from chinhae. 

“–all of it? you better, you smart beast. good job, i’ll see you at the usual, next week–”

“yeah, really. it wasn’t that bad” he shrugged. 

shortly after your food arrived and while you chatted (and to your amusement, flirted a lot), jihoon occasionally grabbed your hand. you, trying to show him that two can play that game, from time to time rested your high heel against his leg and moved it slowly. you enjoyed the flushed look on his face, whether it was your antics or the wine. 

you managed to catch some words like ‘magazine��, ‘6pm’, ‘make more income’ or some useful – new or old – names being dropped. 

you came to a conclusion you wouldn’t get more information. he was in a public space after all. 

“shall we have some dessert?” you asked “i’m craving tiramisu” 

jihoon rose his eyebrows. tiramisu was a code for ‘let’s end this’.

“why? i mean– are you–?” his eyes widened. you rested your chin on your hands.

“i’m fine, i’m just in the mood for something sweet” you shrugged and jihoon couldn’t crack what you meant. then he just smiled playfully.

“hm, okay. i was hoping we could get some dessert afterwards” he hummed “but tiramisu sounds fine” 

you scoffed and grabbed your purse.

“great. i’ll be right back, you can order in the meantime” you said and stood up, noticing park chinhae looking at you. he was talking but you sent him a gentle smile and went to the bathroom.

you took your sweet time, fixing your lipstick and hair. also checking the hidden camera and microphone (which, to be frank, you completely forgot about), you took a deep breath. 

then the realization hit you. the whole team was listening to your and jihoon’s flirting. 

smacking your forehead, you let out a loud groan. seungcheol will so need to buy you a drink. a couple, even. 

reapplying some perfume, you zipped your bag and left the bathroom. only to see park chinhae in the hallway, leaning against the wall and being in the phone. he didn’t see you, back facing you. 

“i need all the cargo by friday. ship it to the factory this time because i think someone is sniffing around us” he said, voice low but enough for you to hear “and check that intern. beomhan– ah, beomgyu”

you saw him move and before he fully turned around, you acted like you just left the bathroom. 

closing the door and turning around, your heart sped up.

“i’m hanging up” was all you heard before there was a sound of approaching footsteps “hey there”

you turned around and faked a shocked face.

“oh, hello mr. lamb leg. it was delightful, thank you” the corner of your lips turned upwards. you noticed his phone in his hand was unlocked, showing the caller id number. you had to act quickly if you wanted the camera to capture it. and you had to shift your position. 

“no problem, it was my pleasure to help such a beautiful woman. may i know your name, though?” he asked, eyebrows rising up. you playfully threw your hair back and crossed your arms, shifting your body weight to your left leg. you noticed the way his gaze lingered on it because the cut in the fabric revealed it. 

“it’s aeri” you said and cursed mentally. it’s probably not enough “if you hit me with ‘a pretty name for a pretty woman’ i’ll have to give you a disappointing look” 

he laughed and you suddenly leaned closer, fixing his bowtie. it was risky, you could see how he tensed up to your touch. but because of that, you were sure that the hidden camera captured his phone screen before it turned off.

“it was crooked. sorry, i’m a bit of a perfectionist” you apologized and leaned back. 

“who would i be to despise a woman’s hands on me?” he flashed you a toothy grin. gross. “is your date boring? you can always leave with me”

your heart skipped a beat. you could. that way you could get more information… or what if he lead you to his place? no, probably not. but still…

“ah, i can see you thinking about it” chinhae hummed. if there was an in-ear in your ear, you’d probably hear seungcheol saying to not even think about it. 

you were about to say something– anything. 

“y/– aeri!” 

you turned around and saw jihoon. fuck. 

chinhae put a hand on your shoulder and it took you everything in your willpower not to shrug it off. 

“here you are. i began to get worried” jihoon snarled, shooting daggers at the man touching you. 

“anyways. my offer still stands, if you want to have some actual fun” chinhae whispered in your ear and began to walk away. jihoon walked up to you, wanting to say something but suddenly turned around.

“she’ll have some fun, don’t worry about it” he said. chinhae turned his head and scanned jihoon head to toe. 

“with a man your size?” 

you had to tug his sleeve. chinhae winked at you and left, leaving only you and jihoon in the hallway. 

“calm down, lee” you grunted and when he looked at you, you just sent him a amused expression “i bet aeri would have some nice time with jiho. but there’s nothing left to do, we should go” 

“agreed. i already paid, let’s just go” he grunted and gestured you to go first “i’ll drop you off and don’t even argue. that weirdo could follow you”

how ironic. while undercover at the restaurant, he was walking away from you. and now, he did the same yet now you were the one playing with him. 

stepping out to the corridor, you debated your options: you could shoot him. you could harm him and capture. or just capture. 

suddenly he took a sharp turn to the stairs that lead to the other floor. you managed to hide in one of the janitor rooms. only when the sound of his footsteps became quiet, you followed him as quietly as you could. 

the open space allowed you to see the lights of flashlights far away. you noticed a glimpse of him going into one of the offices. why isn’t he running away…? 

quietly placing your steps you approached the room. taking a peek inside, you saw that chinhae is rummaging through drawers.

“where the fuck is it…” he grunted, throwing papers on the ground. 

“we’re done here. there’s everyone except park chinhae but he wasn’t even meant to be here, apparently. let’s leave. does everyone copy?”

you couldn’t answer – the man would hear you if you did, and your cover would be blown.

taking a deep breath, you checked if you had handcuffs with you. luckily, you did. swallowing with a beating heart, you walked in. 

“hands up, chinhae” 

the man turned around and frowned. the room was dark, only streams of moonlight sneaking through the blinds. you kicked the door close, gun pointed at him. 

“whatever you’re looking for, it won’t save you” you said harshly. 

“a woman threatening me with a gun. never would i have imagined i’d find myself in such a position” he laughed and started slowly approaching you. one thing was clear: you can’t kill him. or seriously injure him. 

before you could act, he jumped towards you. and it hits you like a hard slap to the face – you didn’t unlock your weapon.

ducking his attack, you kicked him in the stomach. the man lost his balance and hit the desk with a thud. grabbing the first thing that was in his reach, he hurled a lamp at you. it hit your arm, making your weapon fall out of your hands. 

before he could jump and grab it, you kicked it away. landing on the floor, he hastily pulled at your leg causing you to fall next to him. the man didn’t waste any time and grabbed you by your shoulders, climbing atop of your body. one hand cupped at your jaw. as he hovered above you, he tongued his cheek.

“you” chinhae grunted, scanning your face. the moonlight shined perfectly on your face, and you could see the puzzle pieces connecting in his head. in the meantime you tried to sneakily reach for your dagger tucked behind your belt.

he ripped your in-ear and sent it crashing against the wall. 

“ah, i should’ve been more careful” he hissed and his hands moved down to your neck. his body weight was crushing you, your sweaty fingers mere millimetres from getting ahold of your blade “such a beautiful woman… what a shame i’ll have to kill you”

“i’d like to see you try” you snarled just when his hands tightened around your throat. the lack of oxygen hit your head, he wasn’t sparing any time. as his hold became tighter and tighter, you struggled to take out your dagger. 

mere moments from all the air being cut off, you finally grabbed your knife and stabbed him in the arm, drawing a loud yelp from him. using the sudden shock you managed to roll him over and take a deep breath, followed by painful, hacking coughs. leaning on your hands, you tried to blink away your spinning vision. a sudden kick landed at your arm caused you to fall on the floor again.

“you’re alone, huh? where’s your date?” he growled ironically. 

you stood up and noticed your gun. you reached for it, swiftly unlocking it. loud steps of his heavy boots echoed through the room.

“i told you to leave with me. you’d have way more fun, and wouldn’t end up this way” his voice was way too close for your liking. 

you pointed the gun at him, standing up. before you could realize, the moonlight shone on his figure. 

seungcheol stopped in his tracks, counting all his crew for the nth time. jihoon was talking to joshua, vernon and seokmin; wonwoo and mingyu were on the phone with someone from the company; minghao, jun and chan were comforting beomgyu; soonyoung, jeonghan and seungkwan were counting the captured men. 

“what is it?” joshua asked, drawing everyone’s attention to seungcheol. even the backup people were starting to get worried.

“it was… too smooth. no guns, their boss not in sight… and i have a feeling that…” his voice trailed off and he suddenly noticed jihoon getting pale.

“did anyone see y/n?” 

the silence that fell amongst them spoke volumes, the feeling of anxiety hitting them all.

“fuck, i knew it.. i’m still getting used to the fact there’s 13 of you now. y/n, do you copy?” seungcheol asked through the in-ear. 

he was answered with only silence. but then unexpectedly, there was a gunshot.

the horrifying sound of it ripped through the empty space, causing everyone in the room to stiffen up. 

“y/n, say something” jihoon ordered, tapping his in-ear piece as if that was supposed to help. 

“the IT guys are saying that they don’t see her in the voice channel” wonwoo spoke up “but she’s in the building. the northern side, where you guys entered” 

“jihoon, wait!” seungcheol yelled after woozi ran in said direction. 

“always getting in fucking trouble…” he snarled to himself, trying to ignore the heavy feeling blooming in his heart. it wasn’t a gunshot aimed at you, obviously. how could it be? they captured everyone. 

he checked all the rooms on the floor and with each passing second, when there was no sigh of you, his chest swelled with fear. hypothetically speaking if you were hurt, he was running out of time. 

a sudden, dull noise of something – or rather someone – falling on the floor reached his ears. it came from… upstairs? 

he noticed the stairs. fuck.

“she’s on the second floor” he said to the in-ear, almost flying through the stairs. kicking every door open, he finally found you. 

you were putting handcuffs on an unconscious park chinhae, a growing pool of ruby blood between your bodies.

“thank goodness… is he alive?” jihoon asked, dropping to his knees. 

“you’re worried about him?” you joked, relieved to see that jihoon is fine. 

“why would i care about you?” he grunted. oh, so you’re back to normal. good to know. 

he checked his pulse and noticed the knife in his arm. you just shook your head and saw dark spots in front of your eyes. 

leaning your head exhaustively against the desk, your face twisted in pain. 

jihoon should’ve seen that first. but the thing that caught his attention were two guns on the floor.

which meant the unconscious man had a weapon too. 

“don’t even tell me it was him” jihoon said, a hint of worry in his voice. you shook your head and he just sighed, walking up to you. 

he kneeled in front of you, gently grabbing you by your chin and forcing you to look him in the eye.

“please tell me it was you who fired” he repeated, voice stern and cold. emotionless on the surface but you felt the bitterness of it.

“i’m fine” you huffed, scrunching your face.

the silence spoke volumes and jihoon wasted no time helping you stand up. eyes focused on you, he tried to look for any wounds. 

“you still haven’t answered my question. can you stop being annoying for once and tell me who was it?” his voice rose up a bit and you sensed genuine concern. your heart ached upon that but the pain was stronger.

“i’m sorry. it was too late when i noticed” you whispered and felt your knees go weak. thanks to jihoon’s quick reflexes, he caught you, arms wrapping around your body. and that’s when he felt it. 

he couldn’t see the blood due to the black clothes and darkness in the room. but he certainly felt it on his hands, and his throat went dry. 

“i’ll fucking kill you if you die on me right now” jihoon’s voice broke. 

people barged into the room, immediately taking care of the mafia boss.

you just shook your head and jihoon felt more and more warm blood spilling on his hands.

“you’re such an dumb idiot, getting yourself shot” he rambled at this point. the next events slurred into one vague memory. him grabbing you in bridal style, seungcheol shaking your arms, a car ride to the base with jihoon’s fingers interlocked with yours. his voice repeatedly saying ‘don’t die’ and you, struggling to respond with an ironic moment and only managing to mumble a “try me’’ before passing out on his lap. 

you slowly opened your eyes, the blinding brightness of the room causing you to close them again. trying again, you looked around the room. hospital room…? 

once the events started slowly coming back to you, you noticed a fluffy ball next to your knees. then you realised it’s a fluffy ball of messy hair. jihoon’s messy hair. jihoon, who was sleeping next to you on a plastic chair. 

you frowned and tried to look for the wound. with one hand examining your body, because the other… the other was held by the man next to you. 

when your shaky fingers stumbled upon the bandage, you saw jihoon slowly rose his head up. 

he looked at you, dark circles under his ebony eyes. then they widened in shock upon noticing that–

“you’re awake!” he gasped, back straightening. you could only nod weakly “do you need anything? water? does it hurt? should i call the doctor? are you…”

“water will be fine” you hummed in slight amusement, enjoying this caring side of jihoon. only when he stood up to get some, he realized he was still holding your hand. turning his back to you, so you couldn’t see his reddening face, he started looking for some water.

“what… what happened to park chinhae? you captured him, right? did he say anything?” you asked, fixing your posture. hissing when a sudden wave of pain ripped through your body, jihoon turned around immediately “also… how long i’ve been…”

“two weeks” jihoon replied quietly, placing a bottle of water on the nightstand. you went to open it but struggled, hating the way you were so helpless “you lost a lot of blood, the bullet stayed in your body. we got the best medic but you scared us all to death” he mumbled, grabbing the water bottle and opening it for you. when he handed it back, his caring gaze lingered on you. 

“oh i bet” you mumbled before taking a sip.

“that’s what you do the best, apparently” jihoon bit back, opening the blinds in the room. 

“i barely woke up and here you go again… will you tell me what happened to park chinhae?” you asked, looking at him.

“you captured him and knocked unconscious so we could transport him. then we had an interrogation, he–” jihoon let out an annoyed sigh, returning back to the chair next to you. he looked tired “he didn’t say shit. in fact, all he was saying was shit about you” 

“oh?” you frowned. you were used to this, sadly, since it happened frequently but the way he said that was… hinting that he didn’t leave this in peace. 

“yeah. so me and cheol taught him a little lesson about respect for women and then he started talking” he said with a playful smirk.

“jihoon, am i hearing that right? you stood up for me?” you teased, putting the water bottle away. he rolled his eyes. 

“whatever. he said the name of his main dealer so we handed him to the police. after wiping out his money, of course” he smiled and his mouth hung open for a while, as if he was thinking about adding something.

but just when he seemed to make his mind and speak out, the door bursted open. 

“Y/N L/N YOU IDIOT! YOU’RE AWAKE?” seungcheol yelled out, but you just shrugged. 

just when he was about to rush and hug you, you shook your head. 

“it still hurts, cheol” you mumbled. he sent you a reassuring yet worried smile, then his eyes shifted to jihoon.

“you’re still here?” he asked teasingly, crossing his arms. you rose your eyebrows “y’know, y/n, he wouldn’t leave your side when you were unconscious” 

“can you not?” jihoon grunted, face stone-cold.

“you felt guilty, huh? i remember you saying ‘as if i would let us die’ but there you were, as pale as a ghost when y/n passed out on you” seungcheol snickered and stopped once he saw a dangerous glint in woozi’s eyes “jihoon, could you actually leave for a second? i need to discuss a private matter with y/n”

“whatever” the man sighed and before he left, his gaze lingered on you for a while longer. with a soft click of door closing, seungcheol sat down next to you.

“what is it?” you asked, scared. 

“nothing, actually. i just wanted to ask if there’s something between you and jihoon?” he rose his eyebrows. you shook your head, frowning.

“absolutely not” you grunted, looking away. okay, he was good-looking and funny but… not annoying most of the time. 

“ah, really? because he wouldn’t leave your side while you were unconscious. he made sure the nurses that took care of you and changed your clothes were female and… beat up park chinhae pretty badly when we interviewed him. and also he wouldn’t say it but i could see it on his face that he felt guilty that it happened” seungcheol crossed his arms “what i’m trying to say is… consider his weird behaviour” 

you stared at the leader with a mixture of confusion and awe. 

“are you trying to say that… he likes me…?” you mumbled. cheol just shrugged.

“dunno. he acts differently around you. i’ve known him for a while and i just know that something is going on. but he’d rather get shot than admit it” seungcheol scoffed and gestured at you “no pun intended”

you reached for the water bottle and sighed, mind racing. that was a lot to process.

“i’ll go and tell others that you woke up, m’kay? and i’ll also call in the doctor” the leader stood up and smiled, ruffling your hair. 

leaving you and your thoughts alone, you stared at the hoodie that someone left on the chair.

jihoon paced in front of the door, his thoughts spinning around him. you were supposed to leave today since the goal was accomplished. everyone bid you goodbye, and even threw a small party. it’s not like you’re leaving forever – you’ll stay in touch with them or join them again. but physically, you won’t be here anymore. 

he took a deep breath and knocked at your door. whatever. it’ll be fine. 

“yes, come in” your voice chirped welcomingly. he smiled and pushed the door open. 

he saw you packing your bags with… his hoodie on. 

“oh” 

jihoon frowned. 

“what do you mean ‘oh’?” he grunted, crossing his arms. you just let out a chuckle and shook your head. 

“you’re the last person i would’ve expected to come here” a hum left your mouth as you turned your back to him and grabbed a pair of socks “what is it? one last ironic comment before i go?”

you were met with silence, causing you to turn around and look at him. jihoon looked serious, ebony irises focused on you. 

he was practising this. he memorised everything what he wanted to say, even the tone of his voice. but seeing you now caused everything to fly out of his head, lips moving on his own. and before he realized – it was too late.

“i like you” 

the socks dropped out of your hands. you blinked slowly, mouth closing and opening like a fish that’s been out of water for too long.

“w- what?” you scoffed and shook your head, trying to bend down to grab the socks. yet, the state of your wound didn’t allow you to do it normally. letting out a hiss, jihoon rushed to help and grabbed it for you. placing the socks in your bag, you were able to see his face up close. to your amusement, you noticed his ears turning red. 

“i guess seungcheol told you his assumptions. i like you, okay? the stupid gun thing made me realize that” he huffed, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“what do you mean?” you asked, playing with him. it’s a rare occurrence that jihoon gets so open and talkative, you might as well use it. 

“it’s just… i felt guilty. you were dying on me and it suddenly hit me that life would be horrific without annoying you. and you, yourself. i’d miss you… and stuff. so i guess i like you. i’m not telling you because you’re leaving now but i… i just felt like it” he admitted bashfully, stumbling over his words, all while avoiding your eyes. 

“jihoon” you couldn’t help your smile grow.

“and it’s my hoodie by the way” he pointed at the clothing, trying not to think how perfectly the hoodie fits you.

“jih– huh, really?” a gasp left your lips. you were sure it was seungcheol’s or… ah. jihoon probably left it when he was looking over you. 

“you can keep it” he said softly and finally, your eyes met. for the first time, you saw that he’s anxious “i’ll get going. don’t die on your way back. bye”

“jihoon, wait–” you laughed and grabbed his wrist. he turned around and his stomach was stormed by butterflies when he felt your gentle hold. “it’s true, seungcheol made me realize this and that”

“that asshole” jihoon muttered, peering at you. you were… smiling. 

“so i’ve been thinking about it. i told myself: i’ll be here for two more weeks. if until my leave jihoon won’t say or do anything, i’ll leave like nothing happened. if he does – i’ll tell him the truth” you said slowly, seeing how the gears visibly turned in his head. cute–

“what?” he asked, now being the one stunned. 

“you like me. i… think i like you too. apart from being an asshole, you’re pretty sufferable” you grinned and poked his chest. 

“what?” he frowned, his face contorting like you just spoke to him in a completely different language.

“don’t make me repeat it” you breathed out, the sudden realization that you said it hitting you. 

“does… what…” his eyes suddenly fell on your lips “can i…”

“yes, you can kiss me” you whispered, finishing the sentence for him.

jihoon stepped closer, his hand leaving yours only to be placed on your jaw. the hold was gentle, almost as if he was afraid that he’ll break you. 

then, his plush lips landed on yours. the kiss made your head spin – it was so unlike him but then again, so jihoon-y. nothing but tender and respectful, a taste of the chocolate cake that was served during the party lingering on his lips. 

before you could deepen the kiss, he leaned away.

“i’m 100% serious about it. i know i’ve been acting like a dick but i couldn’t help it. it’s hard to act normal around such a pretty person” he snickered, thumbs caressing your cheeks “and as much as i’d want to kiss you again, chan was supposed to pick you up”

“but… we’ll stay in touch, alright?” you asked, pouting slightly. jihoon noticed the way your e/c eyes sparkled with hope and he couldn’t help but shoot you a genuine smile. 

“of course. do you have any plans for the weekend? we could go on a date… like a normal one” he offered, stepping away. 

you nodded with a grin, zipping up your bag. “i’d love to” 

out of the blue, the door bursted open. chan was about to yell something when he noticed jihoon.

“what the fuck!” the youngest yelped.

“i hope you fall down the stairs, by the way” almost like a switch, jihoon snarled. however, this time you saw the amused smile on his sneaking lips.

“sure. you too” you shook your head and left with chan, giving jihoon a last goodbye look.

but only for now, because you’ll see him again soon. 

masterlist <3

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @jiwuu ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth

#svt soft hours #svt scenarios #svt woozi #svt fluff #svt #svt x reader #woozi #svt imagines #seventeen #svt au #svt pirate au #svt reactions #svt fic #woozi x you #woozi x reader #woozi x y/n #woozi oneshot #woozi fluff #woozi imagines #jihoon fluff #svt jihoon #sct drabbles #svt mafia #svt fanfic #svt lee jihoon #svt x you #svt x y/n #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff

[mysticmunson]

Late Bloomer

eddie munson x reader

prompt: eddie befriends a cheerleader who’s a bit of a ‘late bloomer’ part one, part two, part three

warnings: cussing, smut, virginity (minors go away)

word count: 4k

Late Bloomer.

That’s what the other girls in your cheer squad said about your romantic life, “Oh don’t worry about it babe, it’ll happen eventually, you’re just a late bloomer.” It drove you insane that no matter how strongly you yearned for a boyfriend, it never happened. You found almost all the men in Hawkins gross, not in a mean way, but if they ever advanced on you, you shied away. You hated that you couldn’t just swallow your insecurity and pounce on one of the annoying football players, desperate for a fairytale where they married their high school sweetheart who was a cheerleader. What added to the sting is you were older than them, already 19 in senior year due to being held back a grade in elementary school for not grasping reading. This was a common fact as it seemed everyone knew everyone's business in this town, another reason to not want to sleep with the first guy available.

It all came to a tipping point at the annual cheer sleepover, held every year at the head cheerleaders house, the night before the first game of the season. It started innocently enough, all the things you’d imagine cheerleaders did during a night in. Facials, eating popcorn, painting nails, and then someone had to open their damn mouth. “So someone over here had a fling with Joeee.” Penelope sang, pointing her thumb at Rachel who began blushing profusely as the other girls gasped, including yourself. Joe was the ‘hottest’ guy in school, being athletic, kind, and rich, he was bound to get with someone from the squad, but not Rachel. She was beautiful, so it shouldn’t have been a shock, but what you did know was something slightly more selfish, she was the only other virgin on the varsity team.

“Get outta here! Did you go to his house?” Chrissy, the head cheerleader, whispered as Rachel nodded followed by not subtle shrieking. What really caused the blow up was when she pulled her oversized t-shirt up to her lower bust, exposing her stomach of hickies. “I told him not on my neck because of the game, so he got creative.” Rachel smiled, letting her shirt fall down as the girls pestered her about the details, making sure she used protection, and if it was official. You hated that this made you jealous, but you couldn’t help it, especially when a comment was made about how “It was about time you got laid! Took you long enough.” Penelope’s eyes flickered to you, indicating she was the one who let the sharp words tumble out, “Shit, I’m sorry, I totally forgot-” But you cut her off, “Hey! It’s okay, I’m a late bloomer, that’s all.” You wanted to punch yourself in the face. A gentle hand touched your thigh when the attention left you, glancing at Anne, the quietest girl in the room.

“I have to run an errand, wanna come?” She asked, standing to grab her varsity sweater as you followed, knowing you needed fresh air. Both of you slipped out with not much protest as they felt bad at unintentionally singling you out, which you knew the girls meant well and that they weren’t the vicious stereotype they were painted to be. You walked down the street in silence, making your way through a field as a shortcut. “Do you smoke?” Anne broke your daze, looking up at her face that only glanced briefly at yours before looking to where they were heading.

“Sometimes, more socially. Also where are we going?” You asked as you made your way into the forest behind your school, the breeze becoming more steady, reminding you that you only wore shorts and a sweater. With chills coming up your spine and before Anne could say where they were going, a voice boomed to your side.

“If it isn’t my favorite client.”

Eddie Munson sat on the edge of the wooden picnic table in the center of the woods, black pail in hand with a cigarette in the other. Anne waved, approaching him as you froze in place. You had nothing against Eddie, only having classes with him occasionally where you mainly kept to yourself. Being at a drug deal was pretty risque for a cheerleader, especially the night before the first game of the season, except you weren’t a snitch.

“I don’t bite, sweetheart.” He said, making you laugh as you approached them, finding a seat at the picnic table. Anne was already working on rolling a joint, shockingly good at it before sealing it. She placed it between her lips, fishing her lighter out of her shorts pocket and lighting it, smoke flooding out. “Damn Anne, you’ve done this before, huh?” You smiled as she laughed, even Eddie butted in, “Yeah, she's seen me more than once.”

The three of you passed around the dope, becoming more relaxed than you had felt in months. Eddie asked what you two were up to tonight, Anne, stoned out of her mind, had words that didn’t slow due to her sublime state, “Cheerleader sleepover, this one got embarrassed for being the only one to not do the devil's tango-” “Anne!” You shrieked, covering your face as she realized her words, “Oh my God, I didn’t mean to say that, ignore what you just heard, Munson.”

Eddie, always the charmer, looked around at the vast dark space of the woods, “What do you hear something?” He stated, tumbling to an upward position as he looked through the bushes, shuffling through the brown and green leaves. Giggles abrupt from your lips, feeling less embarrassed about the ordeal, taking the final hit of the shared joint and putting it out. He jumped around various plants before sauntering over to you both, sitting on the opposing bench, “Now that the coast is clear, how much are you buying, sweetheart?”

While the name wasn’t directed at you, the title made you blush with Anne casually stating how much she’d need to make it through another exam week. You watched as his ring clad fingers fumbled with the bud, looking at the various baggies with small weights written on them. You knew he played guitar, having heard his band play at a few bars in town and he was a talented guitarist. You could almost hear the song he covered playing in the background of your mind. Once the transaction was finished, he realized you two were walking back, “Do you guys want a ride back? It’s pretty dark? I can even drop you off down the street so they don’t see my van” You thanked him, following Anne into his car that smelled even stronger of hemp than the actual drug did. Anne began going off about how she didn’t want to go back to the sleepover since the other girls were probably in bed right now, “It’s so stupid that they do this every year and go to sleep by 10:30! I get not doing an all-nighter, we don't need anyone falling during the pyramid, but still! Can you just drop me off at home? I’ll just say I didn’t feel well.”

As her complaints persisted from the front seat, you noticed Eddie’s eyes occasionally flickering to yours in the mirror, thinking it was just in your head until he winked at you. You focused your attention on the landscape outside, realizing you were on Anne’s quiet street and that he had actually been listening to her thoroughly. She said a quick thank you, leaning to the backseat to do a mutual cheek kiss before walking down the dim lit road.

“Alright, so where to?” He asked, tapping his fingers mindlessly to the beat of the song quietly playing from the radio. “Thanks for the ride, I can walk from here.” But this just made him turn in his chair, eyebrow raised, “I mean, call me a gentleman, but I don’t feel great making a girl walk home by herself in the middle of the night. Hop in the front.” For some reason, you obeyed, exiting the back to the front, telling him your address that was a few miles away. You rode in awkward silence, which you didn’t think was possible for a man with his comedic timing. Your thoughts drifted to earlier that night when the girls found out about Rachel and Joe, the way they lit up at the juicy details. Your skin crawled at Chrissy’s sad eyes meeting yours, mouthing “It’s okay.” While said out of love, it made you feel smaller than before, like you weren’t reaching your full potential, which you knew deep down was bullshit.

“Eddie, what would you rate me from 1 to 10?” You asked abruptly as he jumped slightly at the sudden voice, but also the question. “I am not answering that, no fuckin’ way.” He said, eyes going wider than you thought possible as he gripped the steering wheel. You whined, crossing your arms as you shifted in your seat to face him.

“C’mon Eddie, please! I need a guy's input and from one that doesn’t annoy me everytime he speaks.” His laugh filled the van as he stopped on the backroad, surrounded by trees. You were high enough to release some inhibitions, but not high enough to not mean what you were saying. He faced towards you, resting his face on his fist, making a thinking sound, “What am I exactly rating you on, princess?”

“I don’t know! Anything? Do you like my smile? My personality? Hell, even my tits? Just something!” You gasped, a devious smile resting on his lips with his blush not going unnoticed, feeling a bit thrown off from your outburst. “Well I’ll just say to start off, all are great, some things more than others,” He winked as you rolled your eyes, “But I’m not rating you, though your desperation is cute.” You sighed at his words, cupping your face in your hands, palms digging to your eyes.

“I’m-Ugh I’m not desperate, I’m just over being a virgin! Why does everyone in this town suck!” You expressed, flailing your arms beside you, “I mean, some swallow, if that makes you feel better?” Which made you laugh, glancing over at him as he rubbed his hands on his jean clad thighs. “In all seriousness, if you want it, just go for it. Most of the guys suck, especially the ones who go out for football, but you’re pretty and smart and worthy of having a nice first time, okay? So I’m not rating you and if any guy says he will, punch them.” He concluded, staring in your eyes seriously, not knowing he practically soaked your panties from the amount of respect he had for you. He didn’t belittle your needs, didn’t try to convince you the guys didn’t suck and you just needed to open up more. No, he heard you, he actually listened and understood. You cupped your hands around his jaw, “Can I kiss you, please?” The words falling from your lips softer than intended, but Eddie could tell you were serious and he didn’t want to pull away either. He cupped your face and gently kissed your lips, allowing your hands to fall in your lap. His lips felt like pillows with his teeth capturing your bottom lip, a moan coming from you to grant him more access.

You thought Eddie was always cute and respectful, a bit of a freak in the best way, and you just couldn’t believe it was him who you’d feel comfortable enough with first. Most guys would’ve started hitting on you the moment you mentioned sex, but he didn’t, you even knew that this kiss wouldn’t have happened unless you had initiated it. Eddie was slowly taking control as his lips moved hasiter against yours, only pulling away in a sharp breath as he realized your location.

“You wanna come to my place?”

----

You had never been more grateful that your parents were out of town for the week as Eddie pulled into your driveway. The ride there wasn’t as tense as you thought, mainly just banter about miscellaneous topics, which helped keep your nerves at bay, and making sure he didn’t get lost.

You grabbed your keys and walked to the front door, Eddie hot on your tail after locking the van. You turned on a light or two, greeting your small black cat, Luna. She scurried away after the initial greeting as you walked Eddie into your kitchen, grabbing a water to soothe your burning throat from the weed and nerves. You offered him a drink, but he took his time observing the scenery, “We can go up to my room if you want?”

He followed you quietly, taking time to notice all the details of your messy room, before you sat on the bed, looking up at him. He glided over, cupping your face once more to kiss you deeply before pulling off his signature Hellfire shirt. You stared at his decorated skin, wanting to trace the ink engraved to his body as you laid down beneath him. He worked his way down your neck, finding a soft spot on your collarbone that made you moan, feeling him smile against the delicate skin. You were getting impatient, grabbing your sweater and slipping it off to reveal your plain bra, quickly flinging that away too. His eyes scanned your chest, tongue sticking out as he saw your nipples, scooping down to suck on them.

“Fuck Eddie.” You whimpered, feeling his hands trail down your naval, shivering at his cold rings. He stood up, yanking his pants down to expose his black boxers, his cock already alert. You swallowed harshly as he gripped the sides of your panties and shorts, “Hey. Look at me.” Your eyes flickered to his, containing an emotion you couldn’t make out just yet.

“I need you to be honest with me, okay? Do you want this?” You nodded, “If at any time you want to stop, tell me. Even if it's on the brink of no return, we’ll stop, it’s never too late to change your mind. I won’t be mad.” He said in a low whisper, your profuse nodding not being enough, you had to be vocal. “I want this, Eddie, there’s no one else I’d rather do this with.”

With that, he yanked your last articles of clothing off, spreading your legs to see your soaking center, “Fuck me.” He mumbled, kneeling on the floor to put his face in front of your most vulnerable area, squirming when he had yet to touch you. “Sh, all in good time, just want to look.” His finger brushed your lips, spreading to find your clit and kissing it, your other hand gripping your waist to hold you still. Your weepy hole was glistening in the shining moonlight, he wished he could hang it in a personal art museum. He was barely touching you and had you falling apart.

“You look so pretty like this, all spread out for me.” He breathed, working his other fingers inside of you, the sudden intrusion making you clench and grab the hand that held your hip. He laced his fingers in yours, still pressing it against where it had been previously for stability. His tongue flicked the bundle of nerves that ached to be attended to, his slender hands finding your g-spot within seconds. He quickened his pace as he realized you were reaching your climax, not wanting to tease you your first time finishing with company. He swapped his mouth and fingers, sucking on your hole to catch the sweet release that flowed out shortly after accompanied by your moans. He glanced up at your blissed face cumming and decided it was the 8th wonder of the world. He climbed on top of you, resting his weight on his arm with his other occupied with your laced fingers.

“That felt good, sweet girl?” Your eyes still clenched as you nodded, finally opening them to look at him. His chin was glistening with your release which could’ve made you come all over again in itself, but you crashed your lips into his, wasting no time to build intensity. He quickly took control of the tempo, grunting as you sunk deeper into the bed, legs wrapping around his clothed waist. You used your feet to push them off, making him pull away with a smile, “Someone’s resourceful!”

He sat up to reach for his pants, pulling out his wallet to grab the spare condom he kept for backup, despite not getting any in over a year. It was hard to keep his composure as he slid the latex over himself, stroking while biting his lip. He would’ve laughed if someone told him he’d be fucking a cheerleader by the end of the night, not only that, but one he always thought stood out. He always noticed you when he was forced to attend a rally or game, finding you exuded energy he couldn’t pinpoint. His eyes lingered on you when he walked down the hall or saw you outside of school, not even entertaining the thought of doing anything, but now that he was here. You laid in front of him, waiting for him to do anything to you to help soothe the need you had. He wishes he would’ve done it sooner.

“Alright, this can happen two ways tonight, princess. Do you want to be on top or on the bottom?” He gritted, containing his shaking voice, as your eyes stared in his. You shrugged, adjusting to close your legs as he stood, “Uh uh, words.” His command made you want to do whatever he wanted, whether it left you in bliss or tears. But you wanted to be a good partner, deciding starting on top might be more beneficial for him, though he was grateful for any position.

“I’ll go on top” Stuttering as you sat up, giving him room to lay beneath you, his upper half resting against pillows as he helped you get your shaking hips over his. His cock was pink and leaking, resting against his stomach in front of you, letting your finger trace the vein that guided all the way to the tip. He knew he wouldn’t last long, you were ruining him and you hadn’t even done anything yet.

“Spit.” He instructed, his ring clad hand that had just been deep in your pussy, shoved in front of your mouth as you followed his directions. He began stroking himself more as you lifted yourself, shuffling over where he ached. He glided his tip across your folds, letting his eyes flutter shut at the silk like feeling before getting stopped by your hole. He looked into your eyes as both your mouths fell open as you slowly fell down. A cry left your lips with your hands grabbing at his chest, making it half way before ceasing, tears falling down your cheeks.

“It’s okay, pretty girl, let it out.” He guided your chest against his, keeping eye contact that you kept attempting to break from shyness. He grabbed your hips, rocking you gently and hushing gently as you whimpered. “You’re doing so good, you’re taking me so well.” He cooed, making sure to be as gentle as possible, which didn’t go unnoticed. Your need surpassed your awareness, shoving yourself all the way with a shriek, feeling so full you began to shake.

“Hey! Hey, easy.” He scolded, lifting your hips towards the top, only keeping his tip in. He wiped the tears beneath your eyes, taking in your face that was a mix of pleasure and pain. “Are you okay?” You nodded, remembering what he said as you gumbled out an “I’m okay.” He nodded, sliding you off as you let out a pathetic noise that you wished never came out, but he didn’t flinch, just placing you on your back. His mouth found its way to your neck as he slid in again. He found your sensitive spot, sucking on it to distract from the unpleasant ache between your legs. He used his hands to push your knees up, taking a moment to raise upwards to look at you fall apart. "Fuck, you're so pretty."

You embraced the feeling of him thrusting inside you, mesmerized by the way the same veins you stroked moments ago were inside you, causing pleasure throughout your body. Eddie found himself pulling you down all the way and holding you there as you mewled. Fresh tears released from your eyes as you fondled your own breast, shaking. His eyes darkened, replacing your hands with his as he began to fondle your tits and picking up his pace. This didn’t last long before you pulled him against you, missing the weight of him and his lips on yours.

“Thank you. Thank you, Eddie, please. Oh my God.” You whimpered, continuing the mantra of gratitude as you found yourself nearing the end. He moaned so loud you were almost positive the neighbors heard, but you didn’t care. He never considered himself a man with a praise kink, but when a girl is not only begging for you, but thank you for fucking her? There’s only so much a man can take, especially when he felt you starving off your orgasm.

“Let it out, baby, come on. You feel so good, sweetheart, I’m right behind ya.” He growled, mouth pressed against the shell of your ear, nibbling. You weren’t strong enough to hold off any longer, falling apart in his arms as he finished in sync, thrusts shallowing out as he felt you constrict. The praises left your lips without hesitation, gripping onto his chest tightly with his arms returning just as tight. Your whimpers continued for a moment before a loud shaky breath, “I’m sorry for crying, that's so embarrassing.” You groaned, shifting beneath him as he pulled away from your neck, “Don’t you dare. That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He stated, eyes boring into yours before pulling out and discarding his protection. He grabbed his boxers, pulling them on and grabbing his tee, handing it to you with raised eyebrows, making you blushed.

“Really, that’s what makes you flustered?” He teased, laying back down with your faces across from each other. Sitting in silence, you both studied each other, almost as if you looked long enough, you’d find out every emotion you just endured. He stroked your cheek affectionately, nudging into his broad palm, nipping at it playfully. As you came down from euphoria, your worries seeped through. What did this mean? Would this be a regular thing? Would he ever speak to you again? So many thoughts ruminated that it spread across your face, his eyebrows pinched with worry when you acknowledged your surroundings.

“Did you enjoy tonight?” You inquired as he made a shocked face before smiling, “Let’s just say that if you asked me to rate this, I’d break the fucking scale.” He chuckled, moving his hand to tickle your side, making you squeal and fling your body against him. “You’re such an asshole for that, Munson.” Silence filled the room as he held you against his chest, your bodies fitting like puzzle pieces beneath your sheets. “Can we do this again sometime?” Trailing off as you traced his various tattoos, hypnotized by his body and what it encapsulated. “Hell yeah, I’m always horny.” He joked, “But seriously, yes, we can do this whenever you want, princess.”

You didn’t expect yourself to have your first time with the guy you always admired from afar, but tonight you were engulfed in his arms, feeling safe and happy for once. As you jogged out on the field the next day, ignoring the soreness between your thighs, you spotted him in the stands where he never would have been previously. With a quick wink, he stood up and hollered as you couldn't contain your laughter. You could get used to this.

-----

hi! thank you for reading, eddie's my muse atm so please send in requests! feedback is always appreciated. have a great day!

#eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things x y/n #steve stranger things #stranger things season four #writing #elora writes #female reader #joe keery #joseph quinn

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 6

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 7,000 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, jealousy, angst, hurt/comfort

Part 6: “Just Casual”

A few days after the house fire that claimed the life of Paul Richardson, father of two, Chief Bobby Singer was joined in his office by Detectives Winchester and Novak, along with his resident Squad Captain and Truck Lieutenant, Benny and Dean.

“The Richardson fire has officially been determined an arson,” Bobby revealed.

“They found a time-delay incendiary device hidden in the attic. No fingerprints. But that’s not even the odd thing,” he said. “The medical examiner found a brand mark on his wrist that was inconsistent with his other burns. Which is why you’re here, I reckon.”

Bobby directed his gaze at both John and Cas, who didn’t look surprised to hear this news.

Dean raised a brow. His gaze shifted to his father, but John only met his stare for a moment before he answered Bobby’s unspoken question.

“We’ve been investigating a series of murders in the area over the past six months,” John said. “Each victim died in their home, with the same brand somewhere on their body. Typically the wrist, or the back of the neck.”

“So we officially have a serial killer turned arsonist on our hands,” Bobby concluded. His attention shifted to Benny and Dean. “Keep this close to the vest, but keep your eyes open.”

“Arsonists are hard to catch,” Dean said, looking to the detectives. “What do you know about this guy?”

Cas glanced at John. The older man could feel his stare, but had to ignore it for now.

“Not much as of yet,” John said. “Right now he’s a coil of smoke, if you’ll pardon the phrase. Our psychologist says he’s most likely a white male, statistically speaking. College educated, or at the very least intelligent, efficient, and so far, he thinks every step through. Like he said, no prints. But the brand is a message.”

“To who, and why, is what we’ve been trying to figure out,” Cas added. “We think that’s the key to pinpointing a suspect.”

“Really,” Dean said. He raised a brow and crossed his arms. “Six months, and that’s all you’ve got?”

“Dean,” John started, but the Lieutenant shook his head.

“Come on, Dad. I know you. Who is this guy?”

“Dean, this is the best I can give you right now, but believe me, we’re working on it,” John said, that tone that boded no further argument.

Bullshit, Dean wanted to shoot back. But he held his tongue for now. He knew that John wouldn’t budge. Instinct still told Dean that his father was holding something back though.

As the men filtered out of Bobby’s office, Dean held Cas back for a moment.

“Watch the old man’s back, all right,” Dean said. “He’s got a penchant for being reckless.”

Cas gave him a wry, pointed look. “I’m doing my best. Winchesters are a stubborn lot.” 

Dean smirked and walked out with him. Meg was headed inside, having just come in from an ambulance call. She smiled when she saw her boyfriend.

“Hey, lover,” she greeted. And she smacked his ass in front of God and the entire Rescue Squad, who liked to sit outside the firehouse and play cards at their table.

Ramirez and the others smirked and called out their customary whoops and cat calls. Dean smirked at the actual blushing discomfort that tightened up Cas’s face and shoulders.

“Dinner tonight at Casablanca’s, right?” Meg asked, unfazed by the catcalling peanut gallery.

“Right,” Cas said stiffly. But he still brushed her cheek with his thumb in affection. “See you later.”

“Yep,” she nodded, though she shot Dean a wry brow. “What? I stole your boyfriend. Get over it.”

She continued on her path back inside the firehouse, leaving Dean and Cas to stare after her in annoyance and begrudging fondness, respectively.

Dean turned to his friend and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Good luck and Godspeed, my friend. That woman’s fuckin’ terrifying.” 

Cas gave him a lazy salute as he walked away. He found that John had already started up their police car. He was in the driver’s seat, as always, with a hand resting casually on the steering wheel.

Dean typically sat in much the same way. Cas thought both men were more comfortable in a car than anywhere else in life. Except, maybe, the precinct and the firehouse.

Cas slid into the passenger seat and gave his partner a knowing look.

“I still think you should tell Sam and Dean what’s really happening here,” he said.

John looked over at him with an almost unreadable expression. But they had been partners for a few years now; long enough for Cas to get a read on the older veteran.

“I understand why you want to keep them out of this, but now this guy is starting fires. Here, in Dean’s district,” Cas pointed out. “Wouldn’t it be safer for him if he had clearer eyes walking into the next one?”

If, God forbid, something should go wrong on the next call Dean responded to, John would never forgive himself. Both he and Cas knew this, but John never answered his partner’s question. He didn’t want his sons getting their noses in this just yet, even if it meant the worry he saw in Dean’s eyes.

So he put the car in “drive” and peeled away from the firehouse.

Trying to match your schedule with Dean’s was a challenge you two were trying to figure out. Though you’d fallen into a pattern of talking on the phone to fill the void when you two couldn’t meet.

Even after almost two more weeks and a third date, you were pleasantly surprised that you and Dean still had plenty to talk about. You told him more about your childhood with your grandparents, while he told you funny stories about him and Sam growing up with their dad, though he was often gone while working on cases.

It was family friend and Fire Chief, Bobby Singer who looked after them whenever John couldn’t, or his old partner Jody Mills, or even Ellen Harvelle, owner of the Roadhouse.

The more you learned about Dean, the more invested you became. And he listened to you when you went on tangents about new recipes you wanted to try out (as long as he got to be your official Taste Tester).

You two argued, playfully and fervently, about music. And you’d been creating a list of old shows the other hadn’t seen, but absolutely needed to.

Dean had suggested Dukes of Hazzard, for example, while you suggested Smallville. You each only agreed to put up with this list if you two watched it together. (Needless to say, there would be some marathon binge watching in your future.)

That was why you didn’t think much of it when Dean invited you to join him at the Roadhouse to meet Cas, one of his best friends, and his girlfriend Meg. You’d invited Andréa to come along, and even Dean’s friend Benny, who she’d also been seeing ever since that night at the Roadhouse.

Apparently, the couple had their own plans.

You tried not to feel some type of way about her brush-off, but your friend had been increasingly distant since she met Benny Lafitte. However, you supposed you couldn’t judge. You hadn’t been calling her as much either, ever since you met Dean.

You knew that if you kept dating him, some adjustments would have to come in your life. You also promised yourself that you’d never be someone who forgot your friends for a man…even for a man like Dean Winchester.

Tonight, however, you’d come directly from work to meet him at the bar. It made more sense than to make him come pick you up from your house, so you sat with a ginger ale while you waited. He’d promised you via text that he was on the way, just stuck in traffic.

Okay, drive safe. 😘 Don’t speed, please.

You knew how he liked floor the Impala with that damn lead foot of his.

No promises. 🏎️

You wanted to roll your eyes, but you were smiling unconsciously as you read his reply.

You were soon knocked out of your thoughts when a smooth voice said your name. You looked up and to your right, and there stood a familiar face. The man greeted you with an easy smile as he sat down next to you.

“I thought that was you,” he said. He reached out his hand and re-introduced himself. “Gordon Walker. Not sure if you remember me.”

“Oh, yes! Of course I do, Gordon,” you smiled and shook his hand.

“It’s good to see you again,” he said. His dark eyes subtly took you in from head to toe in your skirt, heels, and blouse. “Though I’ve gotta admit, I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Ah, right,” you said. “Well—”

Before you could explain, Gordon held up a finger as he noticed your drink of choice.

“Oh, wait a sec. Let me get you something stronger than soda,” he said. He started to flag down Jo, but you shook your head and made a cutting motion with your hand.

“Uh, no, that’s okay,” you said. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“What?” Gordon asked.

It was getting busy in the bar, making it loud enough that you could understand why he hadn’t heard you. You leaned over towards his ear.

“I’m good for now, thanks,” you said, raising your voice a bit. Gordon leaned in even closer and chanced resting a hand above your knee.

“You sure?” he asked. He gave you a smile that was all smooth sex appeal and confidence, without being arrogant.

It was undoubtedly attractive, but you were more shocked than charmed in your blush. You instinctively leaned back when you felt his hand on your thigh. Your hand clenched on the counter.

While your brain scrambled to figure out a response that would successfully remove it (without snapping rudely like you were itching to), a hand slipped along your lower back.

You jolted a bit in your seat with a flare of unease, until you turned your head and found Dean.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted, and dropped a kiss at your hairline. He also clapped a heavy hand on Gordon’s shoulder and squeezed. The other man graciously got the hint and leaned back, withdrawing his hand from your thigh.

“Hi,” you said, finally able to breathe a bit easier. You gave Dean a smile, and he returned it.

He looked over at his friend with a sharper smile. “Hey, Gord. How’s your night goin’?”

“Good.” Gordon nodded, now with a knowing gleam in his eye. “Though I’m sure your night’s gonna go better.”

You weren’t sure how to take that remark, considering the way Dean reacted with a tighter expression and pursed lips. Then, they flickered at a smile.

“Well, we’re meeting up with Meg and Cas in a minute. You should join us,” Dean said. Even though his tone wasn’t so very inviting. The two men seemed to have a wordless conversation between the lines that you couldn’t decipher.

Gordon shook his head, but raised his drink. “No worries, you guys hang. I’m leaving in a few.”

“All right. Let us know if you change your mind,” Dean said. He thumped Gordon once more on the back, more friendly this time.

Dean’s other hand slipped around your waist. He tapped you on the side.

“Come on, I’ve got us a table. It’s quieter,” he said.

You nodded and slid out of your seat. You offered Gordon a polite smile, even if you’d rather not.

“Have a good night,” you said.

The other man’s smile was less flirtatious and more polite this time as well.

“You too,” he said. 

Dean helped you onto your feet, like the gentleman he was, and he continued to lead you away from the bar with a hand on the small of your back. You instinctively pressed against his side to squeeze past the throng of patrons.

When you reached a high-top table in the corner, he pulled out your chair and held your hand as you climbed up in your skirt. You thanked him with a more genuine smile. Though once he was seated next to you, you leaned towards him and laid a hand on his arm, which rested on the table.

“I tried to tell him I was waiting for you. He took me by surprise,” you whispered.

Dean’s brows rose, but his face soon evened out with a smile. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Don’t worry about it. He didn’t know about us,” he said. “He was shootin’ his shot…a bit aggressively. Sorry about that.”

“Oh…it’s okay. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” you replied. Though butterflies ran through your belly when you considered what us meant.

You noted his frown at what you’d said though, and so you aimed to change the subject.

“But Cas and Meg know, right?” you asked.

Dean nodded. His frown started to lift. “Yeah. Cas is one of my best friends. Meg is…well. She’s the little sister I wish I didn’t have.”

You shook your head in amusement. Then you let out a squeal as Dean hooked a foot around the leg of your chair and brought you closer. He stopped you from becoming too unbalanced by wrapping an arm around your waist. You clenched your hands into the open panels of his plaid shirt, and his charming smile greeted you.

“Hi,” he said.

You laughed. “Yeah, you mentioned that earlier.”

“Well, I’m doing it right this time,” he said. And he dipped down for a lingering kiss.

Across the bar was Jo Harvelle, doing her job behind the counter. She poured five shots in succession and doled them out to a party of frat bros without even looking.

Her eyes were drawn to the back corner of the bar, where you and Dean sat closely together, exchanging whispers and the occasional steamy kiss.

“Mind your business,” came Ellen’s whisper in her ear.

Jo whipped her head to glare softly at her mother, but she saw Ellen’s point. It was both obvious and pathetic of her to stare.

Despite the unease making her feel a bit sick to her stomach, Jo went over to Gordon down at the end. His sympathetic smile bothered her; she knew then she hadn’t just been caught by her mother.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” he remarked.

“What?” Jo said. She began wiping down his area of the counter. “Would it kill you to keep it in the glass?”

Gordon gave her an amused look as he sat back in his seat. His tumbler of whiskey was drained.

“Look, I’m sorry, all right?” he said.

Both of them knew he wasn’t apologizing for the spill.

Jo’s brows knitted together, mostly in annoyance. “Again, for what?”

“I know it’s gotta be hard to see him actually moving on,” he replied.

Her lips pursed, and her eyes darted to the back of the room again. She stared for a moment at the side of your face.

“Knowing him, whatever it is won’t last,” she muttered.

Gordon hissed at the "burn," with a deep chuckle. She knew her words weren’t kind, but it was how she felt.

“That may be,” he allowed. “But he’s not just chasing tail anymore. That’s what scares you.” 

Gordon dropped a nice tip for her next to his glass. He grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and left Jo with the churning in her gut.

Cas and Meg finally arrived a few minutes later.

Dean knew you’d been to the Roadhouse before, but this was different. You were meeting some of his friends, and he realized how much he wanted you to. He felt…comfortable around you. And he wanted his friends to know you, and to like you.

“As you know, Meg’s our Paramedic in Charge over at 25,” he began, gesturing at the woman as she got settled in her seat.

You admired her long brown hair, tall boots, and black leather jacket. She seemed to ooze confidence and dark charisma as she tossed you a smirk.

“Guilty,” she said.

You smiled back. Dean gestured at her boyfriend next, clad in a beige trench coat, slacks, and blazer.

“And Cas, who bravely suffers being my dad’s partner on the job.”

Cas nodded wryly at the introduction. His dark hair and blue eyes were striking, you could admit. His tie was loose and slightly rumpled. Along with the stubble coating his face, he was handsome, if a bit scruffy. It was hard for you to believe he’d earned the top scores his year in the Police Academy, but you supposed that looks could be deceiving.

“What’s that like?” you asked with a smirk. “From what I’ve heard about John Winchester, he sounds like he’s a bit of a hard-ass.”

Dean barked with a dry laugh. “An understatement.”

“He has a crab-like shell,” Cas agreed. “But he has a soft center where it counts, not unlike his sons.”

You turned to Dean with a more teasing smile. “Aww…”

He rolled his eyes, even though his arm, which had been draped across the back your chair, now dropped to curl around your waist.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Columbo,” he remarked at his blue-eyed friend.

Always had to get the last dig in, it seemed, but you couldn’t help but laugh a little along with Meg at Cas’s expense.

“You guys all seem really close,” you said. It was nice for you to see.

Dean shrugged like it was no big deal. Or rather, like it was commonplace.

“Well, maybe family ain’t just about blood,” he said.

Meg rolled her eyes. “Ugh. What a friggin’ sap.”

“You love it,” Dean grinned. She smiled, begrudgingly.

Family ain’t just about blood.

You liked that sentiment as well. It seemed to be true here. 

Even Ellen Harvelle treated Dean like a son when she came over to greet your table. She kissed his cheek and gave Meg and Cas’s shoulders a squeeze. Even you got a warm hand on your shoulder when she introduced herself.

“Welcome, hun. I understand it’s not your first time here, but if you got any questions on the menu, you let me know,” she said.

Dean shot you a conspiratorial smile, and it got you wondering what he was about to do.

“I mean, I don’t know why you don’t put the order in for chili fries the second you see me come through the door,” he teased. “Come on, Ellen. How long’ve I been coming here? Since before I had a license?”

Ellen narrowed her eyes and flicked the side of Dean’s head, regardless of his flinching protest.

“Don’t you go sayin’ that so damn loud,” she reproached. “You never drank underage at my bar.”

His eyes averted with a smile, in a way that told you Ellen was a damn liar. You bit your lip to try and hide your smile.

“Anyway, I’ll get your damn fries—”

“And a beer,” Dean interjected. She rolled her eyes.

“And a beer. Four?” she pointed at the rest of you, and you, Cas, and Meg nodded in agreement.

“All right, four beers. Anything else, darlin’?” She looked at you with a mother’s charm.

You looked up from the menu and unconsciously smiled.

“Um, sure. Can I get the chicken sandwich?”

She patted your shoulder. “You sure can.”

Ellen then took the rest of their orders without writing a thing down. You were impressed by her memory. At the end though, Dean didn’t let her go without a hand on her arm.

“Thanks, Ellen,” he said with a more sincere smile.

“A-huh,” she replied, with all due sarcasm. But there was a fondness in her eyes that was hard to miss when she playfully grabbed the back of his neck. “Knucklehead.”

A giggle escaped you, and Ellen tossed you a wink before she went to put in the orders and get the drinks.

Conversation flowed easier when the alcohol came. One beer became two, and even three (four, for Meg). By then, you were sure it was one beer too many for yourself, but you didn’t want to be the odd one out. You were mostly listening to the three of them bounce back and forth between reminiscing with old stories and roasting one another mercilessly.

It was hilarious and entertaining, but you were trying not to get caught in the crosshairs of the volleying. Inevitably though, Meg’s attention turned to you with a certain sly smile.

“You must be real special,” she remarked, gesturing at Dean. “He usually doesn’t bring his girls around here, where he actually likes to hang out. Guess that’d mean he’d have to see ‘em again with the lights on.”

You blinked in surprise.

“Meg,” Dean’s voice cut like a warning.

Your eyes widened as you took in the change, his deeper voice, his more serious gaze, versus Meg’s nonchalance. Even Cas gave her a chiding look.

“Not sure I want to know what that means,” you tried to joke.

But you could guess. It was fairly obvious.

You glanced over at Dean, whose lips pursed. Before either of you could say anything more, Meg chimed in.

“Oooh, is this gonna be your first fight?” she teased.

Dean’s brows furrowed with a glare. “That’s enough.”

“And that’s our cue,” Cas nodded. He’d already slipped out his wallet as soon as his girlfriend started talking. He left a generous few bills to cover their half of the night, plus tip, and got up out of his seat. He claimed his coat and then encouraged Meg off her chair.

“What? I’m not done with my beer,” she protested.

“I think you are,” Cas said.

Meg scoffed, but she allowed his manhandling as he wrapped a supportive arm around her waist.

“You’re not the boss of me, Clarence,” she snipped.

“Certainly not,” he agreed. “But you’re a lightweight. Time to go home, before you insult the entire bar.”

“You’re no fucking fair,” she groused, hitting his chest over his jacket. Cas leveled you and Dean with a long-suffering look of apology.

Dean waved him off with a “no sweat it” look and a shake of his head. Meg annoyed the shit out of him sometimes, especially when she was drunk. He turned to you with a sigh.

“Again, sorry about that. I didn’t think I’d have to apologize for my friends more than once tonight,” he said.

You shook your head. “It’s...okay. Overall, they were really fun.”

Dean scoffed. “I don’t think Cas has been called fun even once in his life.”

You smiled in amusement, but Meg’s words still swirled around in your head like heady wine.

“Dean,” you began, but your attempt to broach the issue was cut off by his cell phone ringing. He gave you an apologetic look and fished in his pocket for his phone. His brows rose when he saw the caller ID.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I gotta take this,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, okay—” You’d barely nodded when Dean was up and out of his chair, heading out of the bar. You could still see him through one of the faded glass doors as he held the phone up to his ear.

It was late, and quieter now. A blonde server came to take your plates, and you actually remembered her.

“Oh, hi! Jo, right?” you asked. She hesitated when you spoke, but she bobbed her head.

“That’s me,” she said. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks,” you said with a smile. “I met your mom. She’s really nice.”

Jo uttered a wry laugh as she stacked the plates and silverware. You helped her collect the silverware and empty beer bottles.

“Yeah, when you get her good side,” she replied. 

You smirked at that, remembering how Ellen snapped back and forth with Dean. You had no doubt that woman could be a pistol if you pissed her off.

“Well, it's nice here,” you admitted, once again taking stock of the décor. The music, the warm lighting, the good food… “It’s cozy.”

Jo’s smile quirked to one side as she paused.

“Well, it’s been in my family for three generations of Harvelles,” she said. “This was my father’s favorite place in the world.”

You caught the note of melancholy in her words, in her eyes.

“Was?” you echoed. She met your gaze and nodded.

“He was a firefighter,” she said. “He died on the job.”

You dimmed considerably. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Jo only nodded.

“How did he…” Your curiosity got the best of you, but you soon shook your head and backtracked. “Never mind, you don’t have to explain.”

“It was a fire that wasn’t properly vented,” Jo answered your half-spoken question. Her blue eyes were heavier. “He got caught in an updraft…but he actually worked at Firehouse 25. He was their brother. That’s why this’ll always be their place.”

You processed that with a slow nod of wonder.

“It’s good that you and your mom will always have that support,” you said eventually. “Even though…it might be hard too, to always be reminded.”

Jo’s lips quirked again. “It’s more the first one, but…sometimes the second one. A lot of these guys have known me since I had braces. It’s hard to shake that perpetual little sister thing.”

You smiled at that. “Yeah, I’d imagine that gets old real quick. A bunch of over-protective older brothers.”

“Overbearing, more like,” she scoffed. You laughed.

Unconsciously, you glanced over to the front of the bar, where you saw Dean still on the phone. You remembered the second date you were meant to have, when he was late due to a five-car pileup his team responded to.

You remembered that night he called you for the first time, after a long day he didn’t want to tell you about. He’d let you distract him instead. All the while, it had you wondering what he’d seen. What he’d responded to that day.

Had it been another car accident? A fire? What made someone as upbeat and funny and smooth as Dean seem to lose all the life in his voice?

Though while you were lost in your thoughts, Jo was watching you.

Jealousy roiled inside her, unbidden. She didn’t want to hate you, because unlike the girls Dean usually messed around with, you had some self-respect. Jo heard Meg’s snide clips at you earlier, and no one could fake the surprise in your eyes. Unless you were just that good a damn actor…

But no, she didn’t get that vibe from you.

It didn’t mean she had to like you though. 

“You’re right to think twice,” Jo said, earning your attention back with a swivel of your head. “What Meg said…she wasn’t wrong. Dean’s broken a few hearts, if you catch my drift.”

Just a few well-placed words, Jo thought. She realized then that she had the power to twist the wrench here, widening the gap between you and Dean. Feed your doubts.

She didn’t have to feel bad about it if it was the truth.

And yet…she saw the way your gaze fell. The disappointment setting in, the anxious clench of your hands on the table. You glanced over at Dean again out of the corner of your eye.

Jo realized then just what she was doing, not just to Dean, but to herself.

You’re not some petty bitch, she dully reminded herself.

“But,” she found herself adding. You raised your gaze back to her. Jo let out a subtle breath.

“It’s not always his fault,” she admitted. And maybe she was speaking a bit too much from experience. “The job demands a lot from him.”

Slowly, you nodded. You looked pensive, but not like you’d made up your mind.

Fine, Jo thought, as she collected the dishes and left your table.

She didn’t know if she wanted to sway you one way or the other on taking a chance on Dean Winchester.   

While you were talking to Jo, Dean was taking his father’s unexpected call.

“Hey, Dad. What’s up?” he said.

“Hey, son. How are ya?” John’s voice was gruff and tired. Dean frowned to hear it.

“I’m good. I’m out right now, but did you need something?”

“Have you responded to any fires lately?”

“You mean like the Richardson fire?” Dean asked pointedly. “No, haven’t had one since. And no cattle prod brandings either.”

“All right, good. Just checking in.”

Good? Dean thought. John would be chomping at the bit for a new arson. If he was “just checking in,” then he was worried about something. Is he worried about me?

“What’s going on? Is there something I need to know?” Dean asked in suspicion. This was why he had taken the call. “Seriously, you can tell me. I’m not even gonna bitch at you like Sam does.”

John chuckled. But then he hesitated. Dean knew he’d hit on something.

“Dad?” he pressed.

John’s sigh was a heavy one. “Okay. What I’m about to tell you, you don’t fucking repeat. Not to anyone, you understand me? Not even your brother.”

Dean’s brows furrowed in trepidation. “Okay, fine. What the hell is it?”

“Richardson, the father of two?” John reminded. “He was a lawyer, linked to a money laundering scheme through a company called Stull Storage. It’s an old company, dates back to the seventies.”

“Okay…” 

As John continued to explain, the more confused Dean became… 

About 30 years ago, John Winchester had been a young, but promising officer in the Narcotics division. He’d married young, and by then was just barely clearing the five-year mark. Already he had the house he’d inherited from his wife’s parents, a four-year-old son, and a newborn.

Stull Storage’s units were used by a drug ring that John had been trying to infiltrate, undercover. Those units had stored cocaine, illegal weapons, and other flavors of contraband, mostly from South America (and back).

“We got close to breaking that case, once, but after the fire…I transferred out of Narcotics, as you know,” John said.

Dean knew the real story there. After his mom died, his father went into a spiral, trying to find whoever set that fire—even after the Fire Department found no evidence of arson. John had eventually been forced out of Narcotics. He requested Homicide.

As he’d told Dean once when he was extremely drunk: I seem to do better at my job when the bodies are already dead.

“Now I know that I was right about your mother’s death,” John said.

Dean released a shaky sigh. “Aw, man. Not this again, Dad. For Christ’s sake.”

“There was something wrong about that fire, Dean,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over Dean’s objections. “I just didn’t find the connection…until now.”

Dean muttered a curse under his breath. His gaze fell to the ground. Sam was usually the one who drew a hard line at hearing any more about their mom’s supposed murder, but now Dean had reached the end of his tether. It was too much.

He glanced back through the glass doors to make sure you were okay. He saw you talking to Jo, and he frowned at himself.

Here you were, waiting on him back in the bar, and his dad was calling him in the middle of the night, chasing ghosts again.

“Look…it’s been my whole damn life with this.” Dean held the phone to his ear with one hand, and rubbed at his forehead with the other. “I just can’t do this with you anymore.”    

“Dean, listen,” John urged. “You wanna know what I’m digging into, this is it. I got Mary’s file unsealed.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “What? Thought you couldn’t do that without new evidence and a court order.”

“Well, I’ve got the evidence…maybe I was a bit impatient with the court order.”

Dean rolled his eyes. His father liked to play a little fast and loose with the rules.

“At the time, the medical examiner dismissed it. She’d been burned…” John paused on a deeper breath. “But I saw it. Mary had a burn on her wrist. It was the same brand found on Richardson. On Jerry Stillwell, CPA. Amanda Waller, journalist. It’s all connected, Dean. How they’re connected to one another, I’m not sure yet. We’re still digging…but I do know this. Richardson was a message.”

Dean’s back hit the wall of the Roadhouse. His brows furrowed as he struggled to digest everything John was saying.

“A message?” he asked. “To who?”

“To me, I think. Those kids, and their mother…you got ‘em out alive, but they weren’t meant to,” John said, his voice sounding heavy. "The wife told me her husband was erratic when he got home, holding his wrist. He'd been burned before the fire. He wouldn't say what happened...then they smelled the goddamn smoke."

"Shit," Dean replied. He leaned heavily against the wall, pressing a hand to his forehead. There was an ache starting between his eyes.

“Yeah," John agreed. "The drug ring I was investigating, when I was in Narcotics. I was getting close. And I mean close. I was about to get the Big Kahuna. The kingpin of the whole operation…and then the house fire.”

Fuck. Dean wiped at his mouth anxiously as he realized what John was saying. Fuck.

“He burned me, Dean. He must have,” John said. Meaning, the drug lord he was trying to pin down somehow discovered his identity. “Your mom paid the price of that.”

“Who is this guy?” Dean asked. His hand holding the phone was starting to tremble.

“I still don’t know his real name. Workin’ on that one too,” John said. “But they called him Azazel.”

When Dean eventually hung up with his father and returned to you at the bar, he saw you brighten. But you soon dimmed with a tinge of worry. Something of his thoughts must’ve shown on his face.

Shit. He tried his best to school his features.

“Hey, sorry about that,” he said, grasping your shoulder. “I’ll take you home.”

“I met you here, remember?” you asked.

Dean paused, then shook his head. Get it together, asshole.

“Right," he said. "Well, I’ll walk you to your car. Let me just pay real quick.”

After he sorted out the bill (he didn’t know that you’d slipped in an extra $30 in Cas’s stack for your part), he led you out, saying goodbye to Ellen and Jo while you went.

You hesitated when the two of you got to the car. Something wasn’t right with him. And both Jo and Meg’s words still rolled back and forth through your head.

“Dean, are you okay? Who was it on the phone?” you asked.

“I’m fine. It was just my dad, called to have me take a look at his car. We were just arguing about our schedules…I’m sure you can relate,” he replied, trying at a smile.

You weren’t sure if you believed him. Though he was nearly convincing, he was also shifting on his feet, hands in his pockets. His gaze roamed away from yours, above your head and over your shoulder.

“Um, I might’ve had a beer too many,” you said with a half-chuckle. “Could you walk with me for a bit? Just until my head clears enough to drive.”

“I could take you home,” Dean offered.

“And leave my car here?” you asked. In a public parking lot behind a bar?

You shook your head and pointed down the road.

“Just there and back…but if you need to go, I guess I could just sit in my car for a while.”

Dean shook his head with a frown. He couldn’t tell you that a damn serial killer was on the loose.

“No, it’s okay,” he said. “It’s a relatively safe neighborhood, but not so much at night. Not by yourself.”

He laid a hand on your back to start walking with you, but his hand soon fell back to his side. You glanced at him, but he looked straight ahead, unusually quiet and reserved.

It felt like he was checking out of this night with you. Like he just wanted to usher you into the car and leave. Did he just not want to deal with what Meg said?

“You must be real special,” she remarked, gesturing at Dean. “He usually doesn’t bring his girls around here, where he actually likes to hang out. Guess that’d mean he’d have to see ‘em again with the lights on.”

Letting out a breath, you tried to see if you could broach the subject.

“It was nice to meet some more of your friends,” you said, and with a nervous laugh, “even if it did get awkward there at the end.”

Dean finally looked over at you.

“We never exactly talked about what each of us was looking for,” you said. “What we were really doing here.” 

You stood your ground, but you tried not to look censuring. Just open to whatever he might have to say. Even so, unease churned inside you.

Dean sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Look, she wasn’t exactly wrong about me.”

You considered that with a nod, biting the inside of your lip.

“When was the last time you were in a relationship?” you asked. Dean gave a humorless huff of a laugh. This really was the last thing he wanted to get into tonight, but he had a feeling he had no choice.

“A few months ago, for about a minute,” he said. “But uh, before then…never.”

Together, you began to cross the street while the cars on either side waited at the red light. Pedestrians had the right of way for the next 30 seconds. You looked over at him and steeled yourself.

“Dean, is this is something casual for you?”

“Define casual,” he attempted to joke (or to deflect). Though the bravado fell the moment he saw that look on your face: tight and disappointed…and hurt.  

He reached for your hand, but you weren’t having it. You slipped away from him and continued walking at a more brusque clip, even in those platform heels.  

“Okay, hold on.” He quickly followed after you and tugged you back by the hand. It had you both stopping in the middle of the crosswalk.  

Dean squeezed your hand and peered into your eyes.

“Look, I’m sorry. Don’t close up on me,” he implored. “…Please.”

Despite your better judgment, and your pursed lips, you waited. Something told you this man didn’t often say please.

“The truth is, I’m trying to do something different here with you. I don’t think we would’ve made it to date #4 if we were just casual,” he said. “I’m not playing games either.”

You wanted to trust that he was serious. Once again, your mind and your heart were at odds; the former told you to be wary, while the latter told you to trust the earnestness in his eyes.

Your heart won. “Okay, Dean.”

“Yeah?” he asked, with hopeful brows raised.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

You finally smiled. And you leaned up, resting a hand against his chest, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His stubble was coarse, but familiar against your lips.

Dean turned his head and leaned in for a proper kiss. His hands found the curve of your waist and brought you closer against his chest. You both sunk deeper into it, your lips gliding as your head tilted into the kiss…

Until a horn honked loudly, making you both jolt at the sound.

The streetlight was green, and several cars were waiting for you to cross. You snorted in amusement, leading Dean to grin down at you. He tugged you back into step with him across the street.

Again, you hesitated at your car. Dean was more himself as he’d held your hand all the way back.

He now held your car door open while you threw in your purse. But when you turned back to him, you still saw something brooding behind his eyes.

You drew near and grasped the open edges of his shirt. This man wore a lot of plaid when he was out of uniform, always with an undershirt. Tonight it was green plaid on gray, complete with some faded jeans and a pair of boots. This was the only “casual” way in which you wanted Dean.  

“Hey,” you started.

“Hmm?” he replied, holding you by your arms.

“I get that we haven’t known each other all that long. So you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you said. “But did something happen when you stepped out? When you talked to your dad?”

Dean paused. His eyes, a pale green under the streetlamp, flicked to yours.

“I just want to know that you’re okay,” you said. “And if you’re not, that’s okay too.”

After a moment to blink in surprise, your earnestness got to him. His grip moved down your arms, and he took one of your hands. His dad’s warning echoed through his mind.

What I’m about to tell you, you don’t fucking repeat. Not to anyone, you understand me? Not even your brother.

Dean knew his dad didn’t make demands without a reason, even if he wasn’t typically so forthcoming with them. But Dean drew enough courage to be as honest as he could be. You deserved that much, after everything you'd put up with tonight.

“My mom died...when I was about four,” he said. “It was a house fire.”

Your eyes widened. All this time, you’d assumed his mother had passed away. You hadn’t expected that, though. You squeezed his hands.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, and you meant it. Dean just shook his head.

“It was ruled an accident. Really they just didn’t have much evidence either way,” he continued. “But uh, my dad’s been obsessed with the idea that it wasn’t. That someone started the fire on purpose… Well, today, he might’ve found his proof.”

He held your gaze for as long as he could, but in the end, he just couldn’t. His chest was tight. Saying those words out loud made them real, and he wasn’t sure of how to handle it.  

“Oh, Dean,” you said, starting and stopping, as you struggled to formulate a response that wasn’t just “I’m sorry,” or “Are you okay?” 

He clearly wasn’t. You also didn’t want to give him platitudes like, “That’s crazy,” or the ever-inspired: “Wow.” 

Or some other variation of what you’re supposed to say. You wanted to give him something honest. Something real. 

So you curled your hands around his arms, earning his gaze.

“You must be reeling right now,” you said. “Do you think he’s onto something this time?”  

“I don’t know what to think,” said Dean. “I’ve been pressing him for answers, but…honestly? I wish he hadn’t told me a damn thing.” 

You didn’t know what to say to that. You were surprised that he actually confided in you with this. But the only thing you could think to do was lean up on your toes and slip your arms around his neck. You hugged him, warm and tight. 

You couldn’t even imagine what he was feeling, but you just wanted him to know that someone was there for him. You were there for him. 

Dean eventually hugged you back. He held you, reassuring you as well as himself. He blew out a cathartic breath, and his hand came up to cup the back of your head. His lips tugged upwards.

“You’re a sweetheart, you know that?” he said. 

A smile spread across your face. Your fingers soothed through his hair gently. You pressed your lips into his neck.

“I aim to please,” you said against his skin.

Dean smiled more fully at that. The new warmth in his chest warred against the roiling in his stomach. Despite his best efforts, his smile faded.

His mom’s killer was still out there.

The thought was haunting his mind, and he knew it probably would for many nights to come.

So for now, he’d just hold you a bit tighter.

AN: 🥲 I honestly didn't mean it to end so angsty, but Dean finally got some much-needed hurt/comfort there! What did you think of how Jo handled her jealous side? And Gordon "shooting his shot" lol.

Coming soon in Part 7, we finally get to a huge milestone between these two lovebirds, with a side helping of baking shenanigans. 😏❤️‍🔥

Next Time:

“Ey, ey!” he raised a warning finger with his free hand. “You’re about to take this to a new level.”

You met his gaze through your lashes with a playful smile. “So?”

Dean raised a brow at you. He could admit, you had audacity. All he could do was call your bluff.

He took one of your battered fingers into his mouth. Your eyes widened at the feel of his soft tongue swirling around your finger, sucking it clean. All the while, his eyes never broke from yours.

Lord have mercy, you thought. Really, it was the only coherent one in your head.

Keep Reading: PART 7

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

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#Just Casual #Smoke Eater #Part 6 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #spn #supernatural #zepskies writes

[cebwrites]

Hello !! Love the way you write the heart pirates 🫶 if it’s okay to request, would you be able to do head-cannons on the silly hearts with a reader who tends to fall asleep anywhere and everywhere around the polar tang?

They don’t do it on purpose- honest! But they don’t realize how tired they are and fall asleep on instant contact with anything comfy :’) ((inspired by my own tendencies to crash on the couch or floor with a simple pillow or soft blanket, the occasional chair if the sitting position complies))

No need to write if it’s a little silly!! You can take it any direction you want, have the bestest of days and keep on writing your awesome work, take care!!

a/n: eepy gang rise up!! i have a habit of getting very sleepy after eating too of course it's okay, this is just about what i need rn actually _〆(´Д｀ )

for anyone new here, here's the hearts name guide <- i use for them!

Heart Pirates with tired Reader

masc reader, they/them law word count: 1.4k

At first, it's just after a hearty dinner that your peers catch you on the verge of falling asleep—Bas, Laeno, and Dorie pride themselves on making such good knock-out food—but slowly they notice how you're seemingly able to pass out anywhere and everywhere you can find a comfortable enough position to curl into

Provided it's not during an important briefing or otherwise Heart-related meeting, since nodding off during those tends to make your captain quite upset and you've crossed them on the singular instance of doing exactly that before, the crew knows to leave you well enough alone

You pride yourself on never falling asleep on duty, at least

On occasion, someone will wake you for additional work at Law's behest if you've already finished or call you down for supper or Penguin and Shachi have the mischievous inkling to do something prank-related; either they're dragged away by someone more responsible or get chewed out by Law for putting you in ridiculous poses to take pics of while you were asleep, upset about something along the lines of potential injuries

The more you get to know your crew and the stronger your bonds become over the years, the more you start to lean on other Heart pirates for your impromptu naps instead of just cozy inanimate objects; none of them have ever beaten the sheer comfitude of the weighted blanket in your quarters, though

Bepo is the easiest suspect being as big and soft as he is, and the friendliest too, Ikkaku is more than happy to lend a shoulder as the resident "big sister" (although she's younger than half the other members), and hell even Pen and Shach were comfy enough pillows once you got them to swear not to pull any funny business while you slept - lest you made balloon animals out of them

The others all warm up to you on their own time, depending on whether you've been there from more or less the start or you're a relatively new member to the crew

Ani is reluctant for physical contact, it takes you getting to know them a little more before she's willing to shake you awake or spend a while sitting next to you taking a nap in comfortable silence, gay uncles Bas and Laeno with the addition of Fang have dubbed themselves the unofficial official "carries you to bed" squad

The other gay uncles (Marl and Gul) are content to leave you where you are whenever you drift off but always bring a blanket when it looks like you're getting cold or you don't seem like waking up any time soon - Dorie and Hoki try taking you to bed but Dorie's always too loud and ends up waking you before then and Hoki, well, Hoki can't quite seem to pick you up as a taller, heavier man

By god he's trying his best, though that also has the unfortunate consequence of waking you up; you once overhead Hoki training with Fang with the express purpose of getting strong enough to carry you to bed like "everyone else" and you genuinely didn't know whether to be flattered or mortified

Uni's content enough to let you lay your head on their shoulder (arm, because frankly he's huge) for a short while, though eventually he gets antsy and needs to move but since you're there he can't, but also Uni needs to move while not waking you up, like a cat asleep on its owner's lap trapping them for all eternity; other crew members have found him in this predicament every so often and find it hilarious/a perfect photo-op while he can't avoid the camera's embarrassing lens

Some of these pictures have both of you napping together (he accepted his fate and fell asleep sitting up, their back makes them regret it later)

You're awkward around Jean Bart at first, as you were with everyone else in the beginning, though you did puff out your chest a little at the thought of being someone's senior much like Bepo, and slowly as you took the initiative to spend more time around him, you'd find yourself falling asleep with his knee as you pillow every now and again, sometimes even with his very large hand over your back as a blanket; Jean Bart too would fall victim to the pictures taken while he was at the mercy of your slumbering form, unable to flee

Clione and Hake, as much as you adore them as friends, have the unintended affect of activating your sleepiness once they go on another one of their longwinded rambles about a topic of special interest; you've apologized time again that it's not because they're boring you, not at all! Their voices are just so easy to listen to, hearing them talk at length about things important to them, it's a comfortable backdrop to doze off to

Hake laughs this off with light teasing, flattered that their voice is as soothing as you claim it to be, Clione has to be coaxed with a bit more than that, but usually gives in after you agree to buying him a treat of his choosing at the next island they drop anchor at

The captain themself—you aren't quite sure how to act around them, you were sure that they'd been upset by the first and only time you fell asleep during that crew meeting, making it a point to never do that again in the hopes of avoiding Law's ire, and although it didn't seem like they'd been that upset with you again, being around them still set the hairs on the back of your neck on edge; like you were being watched

To your defense, you were, but not necessarily in the way in the way that you would've assumed

It took nearly a year of being in proximity with and hardship with each other for Law to finally ease up being around you and another year for them to fully let you in - you realize in that time that the staring is just something Law does with everyone, their crew, strangers on the street, marines they're supposed to be on watch for, it was just something your captain tended to do

Plus, observation wasn't the only reason for their keen eye on you, at some point, Law had developed these—day they say, absurd—feelings, for you, and were at a loss for what to do; so, without consulting anyone else like the massive dweeb they were, decided that intense soul-burning eye contact was the way to go instead of just talking to you and getting a boyfriend that way

Some days it was an attempt to get you to make a move before they did, other days it was trying to blow you up with their mind for daring to make them feel this way, and on the days you felt like you were ignored by your captain even more than before? Those were the one where Law doubted their feelings the most, wishing to hide them away and feeling if you looked too closely, you'd catch onto their "true" intentions and they would simply dissolve under your gaze

A bit unfair, but when has Law ever been anything but?

Now, comfortable with the relationship you've built with one another, Law calls you into their office often to sleep on the couch there, or take a nap on their bed while they worked tirelessly still at the desk in their room; whenever they needed a break or you'd call them over, they could simply recharge in the comfort of your arms and you'd get a warm body to slumber against

It does seem, however, that once the both of you got together Law started being a bit more scrutinous about your random cuddles with other crew members whenever you fell asleep per usual, almost pouting when you gave your attention, albeit unconscious but still physical, away to other people

You tease them about it once other Hearts inform you about this very interesting behavior and turn scowls into kisses with light laughter

The only person seemingly exempt from this "cuddle = angy Law" rule is Bepo, but that's only because he's the baby and Law is unwilling to give up their cuddles on their precious bear either, so the both of you will sometimes just nap on him together, sometimes to Bepo's chagrin when he needs to move just like Uni

Bepo obviously clears, but at least now it looks like there's finally someone to challenge your weighted blanket <3

#cebwrites #one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law x male reader #law x reader #op law #one piece law #one piece heart pirates #heart pirates #one piece bepo #bepo #one piece penguin #shachi one piece #one piece ikkaku #one piece headcanons #heart pirate hcs #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #nearly forgot abt jean bart again oops

[freesia-writes]

Bad Batch Prompt Event #1

Much love to @arctrooper69 for making this official, and I can't wait to see what anyone else has written for these prompts! I'm gonna post the SFW part one here and NSFW part two over on @spicy-clones.

Hunter x F!Reader WORD COUNT 3000 my bad! Content: some basic medical descriptions, reader gets her butt smacked at 79s, and a wee bit o kissin. GONNA USE MY SEXY DIVIDERS WITH @pinkiemme's art since it's HUNTER! :D

“Seriously?” you sighed. “This again?”

“This is completely different than last time,” came the smooth reply, earning both a snort and an eyeroll from you. 

“It’s almost exactly the same.”

“Different arm.”

“Oh my gosh.” Your almost-laugh was overshadowed by concern and frustration as you made quick work of the injury and carefully wrapped the gauze around his bicep, trying not to pay too close attention to the gentle curves of the muscles and tendons, the light dusting of hair, the scars and bruises… You cleared your throat, shaking your head minutely and looking back up to his face. That wasn’t any better. His sharp eyes gazed steadily at you, framed by his distinctive nose and the strands of hair that brushed the sides of his face.

“Well thanks as always,” he said quietly, the hint of a rare smile touching the corner of his lips, which were almost always curved in the ghost of a frown from the burdens he carried. You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest, instead nodding and picking up your datapad abruptly to see what else was on the agenda for the Kamino medical bay that day. You looked back to him, offering a small smile and an honest exhortation.

“Take care of yourself, Hunter.”

* * * 

You were surprised to see him only a week later, stepping into line behind you in the mess hall with the rest of his squad. They were normally a boisterous bunch, but there seemed to be a heaviness upon them as they moved rather listlessly. Perhaps a mission gone awry, perhaps the regular wear and tear of being mere property in a seemingly endless war. You caught Hunter’s eye as he moved to the front of his group, setting his tray on the shelf beside yours as you slid down the food line. 

“You alright?” you asked softly, startling yourself with the gentleness and vulnerability in your own voice and cringing at the fact that you didn’t even lead with a “hello”. 

“Yeah,” he said automatically, his flat affect provoking more anxiety than you’d like. You left it at that, unable to stifle the simultaneous warmth and concern emanating from you. You didn’t know what it was about his mere presence, but he exuded both competence and compassion, intelligence and wit, and you perceived the weight of responsibility that hung over his head, both a gift and a curse of his engineered fate. 

You’d come to enjoy his med bay visits more and more, although it was never the ideal circumstances to meet. The elaborate fantasies you concocted as you drifted off to sleep were far more appealing, consisting of stargazing cuddles, fancy galas, coffee shop chats, and many other situations you’d want to share with him. As corny as it seemed, more than all of it, you simply wanted to know him, to know the inner workings of his mind, his joys and worries, the things that made him laugh, the way he liked his caf… It wasn’t the first time in your life that you’d harbored a crush for someone who was as unattainable as they were oblivious of your affections, so you settled to daydream and enjoy the times you did get to share. 

It helped that your occupation allowed you some quiet moments and gentle touches here and there. Although, perhaps “helped” was the wrong word. 

* * * 

“We need you in room 6 immediately,” crackled the voice on your commlink, and you set aside the instruments you’d been cleaning and adjusting, heading that way with urgency. When the door slid open, you felt a jolt of electricity run through your body at the sight of a hulking clone on the exam table, covered in dried blood and haphazardly-wrapped bandages. You knew who it was without seeing his face, which was almost entirely obscured, and before your emotions could catch up, you snapped into work mode.

“What are we dealing with?” you asked the others, who were moving in smooth synchronization to free his head and scan him head to toe. 

“CT-9903. Explosion and shrapnel, blunt force trauma, multiple lacerations…” your assistant reported, eyes flitting across the scanner screen.

“That’s gonna leave a mark,” your other colleague said, stuffing the wads of bandages into the garbage and pulling on a fresh set of gloves. 

“Let’s get to work,” you muttered. 

A few hours later, he was cleaned up and sleeping comfortably, one eye closed serenely beneath a spiral of neatly-wrapped gauze that covered the rest of his head. You slipped into the room and tapped the screens, confirming the notes your assistant had entered, then rested a hand on his broad forearm, watching his chest rise and fall and sending out all the comforting and healing vibes you could muster. 

“He seems alright,” came a smooth, low voice from behind you, making you jump and emit the tiniest squawk. You whirled around to see Hunter in a chair in the corner, reclining with his legs crossed out in front of him. He’d phrased it as a statement but the inflection of his voice indicated a question, and you exhaled in an attempt to regain your composure.

“First of all, hi. Next time, can you greet me when I come into the room instead of scaring the crap out of me?” you said, accompanied with a little laugh that sounded forced. 

“We’ll see,” he returned evenly, keeping his face straight despite your smirk.

“That’s an order, Sergeant,” you attempted, delighting in the slight spark in his eyes as he raised his eyebrows.

“Oh really,” he said, lowering his chin just enough to bring some hair across his forehead as he regarded you with a stare that you could have sworn held a hint of smolder. But perhaps you were seeing what you wanted to see. Your fingers twitched at your sides, yearning to stroke the tufts back from his face… and other stuff…

“Yeah, anyway…” you said suddenly, clearing your throat and turning businesslike all of a sudden. “He should be fine. We’ll run some more tests when he wakes up to check on his hearing. The lacerations should heal easily, and he was lucky enough to avoid any serious contusions, somehow. I don’t know what you all were doing out there but this guy needs a thicker helmet.”

“I’ll make sure to request that from the armory.”

“I’m sure they’ll be wildly helpful and accommodating.”

“Always.”

A silence fell for a moment, then he rose to his feet, stretching to his full height and picking up his backpack.  He slung it across his shoulders, along with the concerns and duties that awaited him, and gave you a cordial nod. 

“Thanks for taking care of him,” he said with genuine sincerity, regarding you with fondness as he stepped closer. Your heart skipped a beat and you felt frozen to the spot, mind racing with a million scenarios you’d envisioned that started out just like this. 

“Just doing my job… sir,” you said feebly, swallowing hard as he moved the tiniest bit nearer. You gazed at his eyes, brown at first glance but peppered with pale green and gray upon closer inspection. You could swear you felt the sparks flying between the two of you… until he spoke, shifting slightly to your side. 

“Gotta… head out…” he muttered, and you suddenly realized he had actually been trying to get past you. Flushed with hot embarrassment, you moved aside in a flash, turning away to hide your reddening cheeks. 

“Sorry, I didn’t sleep too much last night,” you explained quickly, trying not to stutter. “The old brain isn’t working quite so well today.”

“I’m glad you performed cranial surgery on Wrecker, then,” Hunter observed, and you buried your face in a hand.

“I mean, it wasn’t really surgery, but good point,” you laughed, thoroughly mortified now.

You didn’t see the pursed lips hiding his smile as he turned and disappeared out the door. 

* * * 

You were deeply saddened at first when you were transferred from the Kamino medical bay to the general medical center on Coruscant. But, as your fellow clone-obsessed friend reminded you, you would be able to go with her to 79s on your nights off, where you could enjoy the company of the types of men you’d come to prefer. It had been a hellish week, with too many patients and too few staff members, and you had worked yourself to the bone. It was as good a time as any to blow off some steam, so it took only a little urging from your friend for you to change into some going out clothes, fix up your hair a bit, and hit the town with her. 

Typically one for softness and gentleness, you felt an edge to yourself that night. Perhaps it was the build up of all of the frustrating situations at work, but whatever the cause, you didn’t feel like putting up with any kind of BS. So when the first trooper you walked past tried to smack your butt, you turned on him with the raging fury of a thousand suns and gave him a piece of your mind. Your friend stared at you, dumbfounded, and you heard some chuckles and comments from the crowd. Turning away before you melted into an apology, you stalked off to the corner booth you had left your stuff in.

“That was brutal,” a smoky voice said, and you were floored at the sight of Hunter sliding into the booth next to you. Your friend winked at you from where she stood at the bar, still flirting with a couple of troopers. You stared at him, speechless, and he held his hands up in surrender. “I’ll clear out if you’re going to chew me out like that guy. Just wanted to say hi. Haven’t seen you in the med bay in a while.“

“No, stay!“ You said, more eagerness in your voice than you would like to admit. “They transferred me here…”

“And you just had to get your clone fix?”

You blushed, palming your face before taking a long swig of your drink. It was a stiff one, and a fitting way to end your week. 

“Just kidding,” he continued, “We both know you just miss yelling at people.” 

“Oh, I’m such a yeller,” you rolled your eyes. You had never been anything but gentle and kind with him and the other patients. And he knew it.

Before long, you both found yourselves lost in conversation, and it felt as though your dreams were coming true. Details of his life and thoughts were flowing freely, well, as freely as possible considering the covert nature of most of his experiences, and the two of you settled into a comfortable rhythm as you nursed your drinks and regarded one another. You shared about your training days, mishaps and mayhem, and your goals for the future. He was happy to listen, answering questions but also content to simply sit. You didn’t want to admit just how much you were thrilled by the entire situation. 

“Refills?” You asked, gesturing to the empty glasses on the table. He nodded, but then followed you out of the booth. As the two of you leaned against the bar, waiting to be acknowledged, you tilted your head at him, feeling slightly emboldened for a moment, but it quickly melted when his eyes met yours.

“Yes?” He asked, a smirk on his own face. 

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” he teased. “Looks like you’ve got something you want to say.”

“Maybe there’s lots I want to say,” you clapped back, putting your hand on your hip. “But I don’t think I’m going to.” You gave him a sassy smile in an attempt to hide the complete and total whirlwind of thoughts raging for consideration within you. 

He took a step closer, coming into your personal space, and his hand that rested on the bar counter was dangerously close to your waist. You could almost feel his touch, without any contact being made at all. His eyes were dark beneath his brows, his sharp profile illuminated by the colorful lights all around, and your heart skipped a beat. 

“You sure?” he purred, a smug look on his face as though he knew the effect he had on you. “Nothing at all?”

“You’re the worst,” you stammered, dropping your chin and fixing your stair on the ground beside you.

“Yeah,” he conceded with a snort. “Well, you still like me.”

Your head flew up faster than a ship jumping into hyperspace, and you stared at him in utter shock as your stomach plunged. Your mouth fell open a little bit as you frantically searched for words, coming up with none and snapping it shut again. He shifted the tiniest fraction closer, looming over you now in a way that would be intimidating if your veins weren’t coursing with adrenaline and the sheer desire to grab his shirt and show him all that you couldn’t say. 

“Thought so,” he said with a satisfied rumble of laughter that made your knees weak.

“I don’t… I mean, I couldn’t…” You fumbled hopelessly, turning away a tiny bit as you grappled for any kind of response.

“Hey lady,” a clone voice said from behind you. “ This guy bothering you?” You turned around to see a trooper with his head closely shaved except for some intricate designs along the sides. He was standing tall, an inch or two over Hunter, and had a warm intensity to his gaze that showed genuine concern more than creepiness or bravado.

You looked back to Hunter, who was still leaning on the bar, relaxed and unbothered. He lifted his eyebrows at you, uncharacteristically playful, and said, “Well?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” you said to the blue-armored clone, who gave you a polite nod before leaving with one last suspicious glare at Hunter.

“So… you were saying?” Hunter poked, tilting his head at you and fanning the flame. Was he flirting? For real? Or just trying to make you flustered, for his own fun and entertainment? 

“Now you’re just being cruel,” you whined, and he laughed, an authentic, deep sound that made you swoon. 

“I would never.”

“Hunter, we’ve got to go,” a pert voice broke through your fantasy, and you turned to see a bespectacled man with a serious face standing beside Hunter, who looked at you with an unreadable expression as your heart sank and disappointment lay heavy over the two of you.

“Well. Hope I see you again,” he admitted, a wistful tone to his voice as he brushed his fingers across the back of your hand, sending a jolt of electricity through you, and dipped his head in goodbye before disappearing out the front door. 

You went home to your “personal massager” that night. 

* * * 

You were finishing the patient notes for the day as you bent over your screen at work, tapping away with diligence as you looked forward to freedom for the evening. It had been nearly a week since you’d seen Hunter at 79s, and you’d been kicking yourself for not speaking up more, or flirting more, or making a move, or something. You doubted your paths would cross again, as your friend shared that she’d only seen Clone Force 99 at the bar once before, and she was quite the regular. Bringing your thoughts back to the present, you groaned inwardly as your comm pinged with an incoming message, and you considered not looking at it to avoid any calls to stay late. But curiosity got the better of you, and you took a look at the screen. 

//18:42//-ENCRYPTED- {Chewed out any regs lately?}

Your mouth fell open, brow furrowed, as you studied the message. It wasn’t an internal memo, nor was it from any sort of source you’d seen before. It couldn't be… Could it? You smirked, curious to try something that might seem inconspicuous if it were, in fact, an error, but might be playful if it were him.

//18:43// - {Unfamiliar source number, identification needed.}

The response seemed to take ages.

//18:47//-ENCRYPTED- {Identification can be provided in the maintenance alleyway of the med center.}

You were embarrassed how quickly you got there. 

The door swung open into a long, narrow gap between the large hospital buildings, filled with random parts and trash chutes, and your heart leapt in your chest when you saw his gray and red armor.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, positively thrilled and unable to hide it.

“I… Well… I don’t know,” Hunter admitted with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “I haven’t been able to get you off my mind since we had to leave… So I thought it might need some medical attention.” 

Now it was your turn to laugh, the sheer delight of it all cascading over you. “Oh, and a crusty alleyway seems like a very sterile environment.” He grinned, shaking his head, and you caught a glimpse of his own vulnerability, realizing that he, too, was fairly out of sorts when it came to smooth talk and flirtation. Somehow, that made you feel better, and all the regrets and “what ifs” of the last number of days began a relentless protest in your mind. “Well, let’s see what I can do,” you murmured, stepping closer to where he leaned against the wall. His eyebrows climbed up his head, giving away his utter surprise, and the sight gave you tingles. 

“I… ah…” he began, but you leaned into him a little, fueled by months of daydreams and a lifetime of self-loathing for all the opportunities you were too cowardly to take hold of. Plus, his sheepishness and his admission were all you’d needed to hear, and there was an undeniable affection in his eyes that melted you to the core. 

“Let’s see if we can help you out a bit?” you offered, simultaneously cringing and delighting at the complete and total ridiculousness of it all. But then he tilted his head and lifted a single, curled finger to your chin, tipping it up toward his face and sealing your fate as hopelessly enthralled. His dark eyes glittered with warmth and trepidation, and the next thing you knew, your lips were pressed against his, eyes closed, arms around his neck. 

It was so soft, so absolutely mind-blowingly perfect; your entire body was electrified as his own arms wrapped around you. You felt him exhale, his nose against your cheek, and you were overwhelmed with joy at his closeness, his vulnerability, his all-consuming presence that filled your senses. His body formed around yours, his mouth still gently nestled against your own, and you melted a little further into him, wishing that it would never end. 

When you finally did separate with a soft smack of the lips, you left your faces close, your eyes darting to his, which remained closed for an extra second before slowly opening with a relaxed warmth that had you feeling weak all over again. You couldn’t resist leaning your forehead against his own, reaching a hand up to caress his cheek for a moment before begrudgingly pulling back a bit. 

“Thank you,” you whispered lamely, and he exhaled through his nose.

“Thank you,” he echoed, sheepish and disarmed. 

“Please contact me anytime you need any sort of medical attention,” you continued, wrinkling your nose at just how terrible it all sounded, but he snickered, slowly releasing you with a nod.

“My job is quite harmful.”

Are you 18+? Interested in a smutty part two? Click here. ;)

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#the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #star wars the bad batch #tbb fanfic #tbb one shot #romantic one shot #tbb hunter #hunter x reader #x reader #tbbpromptevent #tbb prompt event

[katie-luvr]

🌸 Peach 🌸 ~ katie mccabe x reader

an ~ this is the first one! thank for your service @lessi-lover! love you lots 🫶🏻

(katie mccabe x arsenal!reader)

~

today marked the beginning of a new chapter in your career; your very first official training session as one of two latest signings to the arsenal women's team, fresh of the high after being dubbed as 'the one to watch' during the 2023 world cup.

just a few days prior when the documents had been signed formally at the grounds, you had been given the chance to meet up with a couple of your national teammates, a handful of them already signing for london clubs.

moving to arsenal just made sense. it was always red and white for you. you were dressed in the red london kit before you could even walk, and the fact that you already had so many teammates living in england just made it all the easier to pick up the pen and sign.

you truly felt like you were on the top of the world, signing for your day one club, it was truly the height of your career and you still had so much longer to go.

having a quick breakfast with two of your older teammates in town, you felt more than assured by their words that you and your other teammate kyra, were going to create an incredible impact towards winning more titles and trophies this year.

the girls explained to you that this season they wanted to use the new signings to create more depth in the squad, become a stronger team and create a more meaningful connection with the clubs fans, and overall keep their reign as one of the most prominent clubs in europe.

"you excited to meet the girls, peach?" the aussie forward asked you, as she scanned her eyes over the menu. "they can't wait to meet you, peach. i've already got beth and jen lining up to go house shopping with you next week!" the other aussie added, fiddling with the leash connected to her dog's collar.

"peach?" caitlin worriedly questioned, as she watched you zone out of the conversation. "off with the fairies again this one." steph giggled as she poured you a glass of water. "yeah. yeah, of course i'm excited." you answered, although the hesitation in your voice was hardly convincing.

"it's okay peach. every footballer no matter how talented would be nervous to move to one of the most esteemed clubs in all of europe." she bragged, patting your shoulder, as your eyes widened further.

"not helping!" steph scolded, jabbing the side of her teammates arm, as she leant over to place a more comforting hand on your shoulder. "anything you want to tell us peach?" caitlin said, now with a more understanding tone as she spoke. "nothing its stupid." you responded quickly, shifting your eyes downwards nervously. "hey nothing you ever think is stupid, peach."

"we're your teammates, your caretakers and most importantly your friends. you can tell us anything that's bothering you, okay?" her gaze supporting, her hand moving comfortably up and down your arm.

caitlin nodded in agreement beside her teammate, genuine concern in her eyes, as they both waited patiently for your response. "no, don't worry about it." you quickly interjected, waving off their concern with a forced smile. "i can manage on my own. really, I appreciate the concern, though."

"alright, peach," steph said with a gentle nod, a silent look towards your other teammate that you would speak again whenever you were ready to share. "just remember, we're here for you. no pressure, no rush. when you're ready, we've got your back."

~

"you excited? you excited? you excited?" echoed the relentless voice of a young australian in your ear, each sentence coming with a jab to the side of your arm. talking in the back of your teammates car, you found yourself staring nervously out the window, a pointless attempt to quiet your thoughts as they raced rapidly through your head.

turning towards the blonde, you gave her a deadpan look, "kyra cooney cross, what do you mean, 'am i excited', of course i am!" you mocked, poking your finger into her chest with every word.

you tried desperately to put on your signature fearless persona, however your voice betrayed you as you trembled out the last few words.

kyra having already been signed for at least three weeks now, awfully tried to console your nerves even hitting you with, "hey, if they don't like you, you can always move countries." this only made you feel even worse, and you let yourself sink into your car seat.

"oi, peach, ky, we're here." caitlin said as she turned off the car engine. taking a deep breath, you released all your nerves. steph opened the door from beneath your elbow, causing your body to fall backwards, almost completely onto the ground. a sharp chill ran through you, as a gust of wind brushed past your skin.

the london weather was already making you want to book the first flight home back to sunny australia. you brushed down your clothes, feeling steph pat the top of your freshly washed hair.

"hey, watch the hair, i need everything to be perfect today!" you said in a a stern voice as caitlin and kyra exchanged a glance over your shoulder. "peach your gonna be just fine, i'm telling ya, no ones gonna care if a few pieces of your hair are sticking out." caitlin assured you.

"your going to be just perfect." ~

now dressed in your new kit, you made your way over to the gym. as today was the start of the season, you had been told that these strength and conditioning sessions would be a primary part of your program for the next couple of weeks. the anticipation of the waiting season filled you with a mix of excitement and nerves.

walking out the changing room, you felt as if you were living in a dream, although the high slightly out of your reach. the sound of your sneakers slid against the floor of the hallway, your body swirling with different emotions. "you ready peach?" kyra asked, lifting her arm over your shoulder as you walked.

"is katie a nice person?" you responded frantically, as you and kyra made your way through the building. you bit the side of your mouth anxiously, nervous that kyra would only further prove your thoughts. "yeah. i've only known her for a couple of weeks, but she's really funny!" kyra answered enthusiastically. nodding her head, as she fixed her sleeves.

the last time you had encountered the irish girl was back in august at the world cup, australia versus ireland. you could say this game left quite the impression on you, even if you spent majority of the match on the bench.

the intensity of the game, the clash with your close friend katrina gorry, had you painting a picture in your mind that was hard to shake no matter how hard you tried to move on. although, hearing your best friends words of her fellow teammate, painted a picture in your head that was at odds with your expectations.

but before you could ask more about kyra's experience with the brunette, steph suddenly appeared next to you, a bright smile on her face. "some of my best mates are headed over to meet you!" the defender exclaimed in an excited voice, grinning from ear to ear.

the introduction of several of her teammates did nothing to calm the turmoil of feeling racing through your body. if anything, it only made your heart race further, and your excitement heighten. a group of girls made their way over to you, dressed in the training kit, their faces smiling.

as they drew closer, you felt your nerves settle, as each player kindly introduced themselves to you. "hey, you must be the one and only peach!" says a loud blonde, as she wraps her arms tightly around your body, engulfing you in a hug. "beffy don't scare her away!" a tall brunette said, her scottish accent shining through her words.

"it's so great to finally meet you! we have heard so many amazing things about you." a girl spoke, the number thirteen in bold on her top. you felt your cheeks heat up, the tips of your ears burning at the attention you were receiving from your new teammates.

a couple more girls made there way over, many of them familiar with you over the course of your world cup journey as you properly met a series of players from the swedish national team. then came the english girls; leah, alessia and lotte, before viv and laura also came introducing themselves and sending you a small welcoming wave.

moving into the gym, you completed a series of intense exercises, the gym alive with the sound of chatter, weights clanking on the ground, shouts of encouragement, and the collective huff of your teammates pushing their limits.

it was in the middle of an exercise, one in which you were paired with a very irish girl for a partner drill. the realisation that you hadn't introduced yourself to her hit you like a pile of heavy bricks, your mind short - circuiting and delaying your thoughts. you hadn't spoken directly to her, and of course it was your fate that partnered you with the one person you'd hoped to avoid.

as she walked over to you, you attempted to greet her, "heyyy... so im uh, umm-" you stuttered awkwardly, your face flushed a deep pink. "peach?" she finished off, voice laced with amusement. using your nickname, sending you a wink as she lifted weights onto the bar.

"so, why do they all call you peach?" she asked, her eyes filled with genuine curiosity as she lifted the bar with such ease. you felt the blush creep further up you face, almost spreading over your whole body. "its a long story but-." you mumbled, fingers fiddling together. "she just can't help it. she always blushing, so the aussie girls named her peach." caitlin interrupted you, giggling as she watched you redden once again.

the rest of the training session was what could be described as pure discomfort for you both, as katie tried desperately to keep the conversation going to fill the awkward silence you had created. the both of you moving around each other with such difficulty that you'd wished you just stayed completely still.

finally it was as if the trainer had heard your prayers, he rung the bell to signal that the session was over.

quickly you rushed on over to the water station, swiftly grabbing a clear water with your name bolded on it. "-want to come with the girls tonight?" as you twisted open the cap, a distinctive accent caught your attention. turning around with your bottle in hand, you were faced with your earlier partner, a hopeful look on her face.

"care to join the girls tonights? beth's organised a small get together at a quiet bar downtown." she asked, her words accented with her signature cocky grin, as she lifted her shirt upwards to wipe her sweating face.

the brunette had invited you to go for dinner with her and the team. your face lit up brightly, as a smile took over your face. "of course, wouldn't miss it." you responded eagerly.

it was in that moment that you finally felt complete. as if all your hard work to get into the team of your dreams had finally paid off. a feeling of belonging fluttered in your chest. "perfect. see you there, peach," she grinned.

you felt like a gunner, you felt like you fit in and you couldn't wait to prove yourself to your team.

~

"hey y/n!" you heard a voice call out from the carpark. turning around, you saw your teammate alessia, quickly hurrying out the door to catch you before you left. although, before the the blonde could reach you, she stumbled clumsily over the curb, landing flat on her face, her bag falling freely out of her arms and onto the pavement.

"less! are you alright?" you questioned, rushing to her side to lift her to her feet, as she picked up all her things. "never better. are you coming tonight?" she asked urgently, a sense of anticipation in her voice. "yes, katie asked me a while back. i'll be there." you answered. smiling up at the tall girl, as you watched her break out into a cheeky smile that you couldn't quite place.

"can i come over? see the new house... and maybe.. i don't know.. pick your outfit?" she requested, but you missed the mischievous glint in her eyes that came with it. "alright less," you giggled, brushing a strand of your hair back.

driving your way through the busy streets, you handed alessia your phone, the blonde responding with a smile as she entered her number. "so how do you like london?" she asked, breaking the comfortable silence. "london? it's incredible." you replied, letting your eyes rake over the various tall city buildings.

"the clubs, the players, the city, the buildings, the people, - it's amazing. it's exactly what i dreamed of."

the striker nodded at your words, her eyes sparkling with her shared agreement. "i know what you mean, it's as if the city never sleeps. i just have to show you some of the special spots around here." you chuckled, nodding your head that you would have to go out sightseeing eventually.

pulling up to your apartment, you guided alessia up the elevator and into your living room, a series of unpacked boxes littering your floors. "steph and cait were meant to come over to help me unpack, but they just spent their time with whiskers." you explained to the blonde, as she explored your house.

"whiskers?" she questions, her brows furrowing, as she tried to understand you. "whiskers!" you yelled out, your voice bouncing off the walls. "oh." you said contentedly, gesturing to a small grey cat curled up in the corner. "he's friendly, you can go up and say hello if you want." but you weren't even halfway through your sentence as the english girl raced over to greet him.

~

"hm. what about this one?" alessia asked holding up a sparkly dress with a hopeful expression. the striker having poured the entirety of your freshly organised wardrobe all throughout your bedroom, clothing and shoes littering the once clean floor.

"it's just dinner, less. i hardly think a tight black dress is casual enough." you chuckled, body flopping backwards onto you bed. "oh cmon! i'll even wear something similar! all the girls will wear them."

she tried to convince you, waving the small dress around in front of you face. "less.." you mumbled, frowning up at the standing blonde as she faced you. "oh please!" she begged, her mouth forming an upset pout, as she clutched the dress close to her chest.

"oh fine" you agreed begrudgingly, sighing as the striker smiled at you. rolling your eyes, as her face lit up in excitement, a cheeky grin plastered on her lips. "you're going to look amazing! we're going to have so much fun, i promise!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.

"blush, less?" you asked, gesturing to the light palette in your hands. "if you don't mind!" she answered, taking it from your hands with a wink. sitting down at the vanity, you both began to get ready, although you're sure you spent more time talking rather than anything else.

giggling over the blondes stories of her england camps, and your own, you both bonded over each others individual stories. "you just started choking?" you breathed out, laughter stuck in your throat, as alessia told you stories of her younger self, from when she was first called up to the U15 teams.

"and you wouldn't believe the looks i got when my own coach had to help me spit the meatball out! it was so humiliating!" she chuckled, her face flushed in embarrassment as she recounted the story. "only you could manage that, less." you giggled, the sides of your mouth turned up in a cheeky grin.

"only you could manage that!" she said cockily, continuing to apply a light amount of makeup to her face. "what do you mean, less?" you responded, brows furrowing inwards as you tried to understand the blonde's words.

"i mean only the one and only y/n could receive a follow from the devil herself you know." she answered, waving your phone in your face. you could see a notification at the bottom of your screen, 'katie_mccabe11 started following you.' you frowned at the message, although you quickly went to follow her back.

"you got the devil part right." you sighed, switching off your phone to rest beside your elbow. "she's coming tonight ya know." the striker nods, again the mischievous glint in her eyes appeared, which only spurred you on further.

"i know. she invited me actually." you confirmed, body turning to face her, as you caught her smirk in the mirror. "really?" she grinned, shaking her head, whilst you sat there confused. "didn't think she'd have the guts to ask you out!" the blonde laughed, her hand falling against her chin, smiling at herself.

"what do you mean, less?" you said, pushing away your makeup, as you tried to pull the distracted girl's attention towards yourself. "oh nothing. just that she has the biggest crush on you, like ever!" she blurted out.

"oh my god! you didn't hear that!" she said worriedly, her hands coming up to slap against your ears, a look of true regret in her eyes, as she tried desperately to make you unhear her words. "uhh." she mumbled anxiously.

"that didn't happen! none of this ever happend! i- uhm! i was never here!" she shouted, racing around your room to pick up her belongings, as she raced out the front door. your chest tightened, a familiar feeling settling in your chest that you couldn't quite place.

you felt a slight tinge of a real blush coat your cheeks, the tips of your ears burning at the blonde's confession. "no way." you whispered dismissively. katie rarely ever talked to you, and there was doubt in your mind that your friend was just making things up.

surely katie didn't actually like you?

~

#woso #woso community #arsenal women #kyra cooney cross #caitlin foord #steph catley #alessia russo #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe

[hangmansgbaby]

Three’s a Crowd, Unless its You

THIS IS 18+! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Summary: Jake and y/n wanted to spice things up in the bedroom so they brought Rooster in. And then the feelings started so Jake and y/n make a plan to permanently in Rooster to their everyday life.

Pairings: established jake x reader, bradley x reader, bradley x jake, bob x reader

Warnings: slight angst, threesome vibes, dom bob, mentions of subspace, swearing, smut, smut, and more smut, squirting, maybe cum play?, creampie, oral (f and m receiving), anxiety, basically lots of smut with some plot

Notes: A big thank you to @bobby-r2d2-floyd who practically wrote this for me cause I am not good at smut but wanted this to exist! Also thank you to @roosters-girl and @startrekfangirl2233 and @sarahsmi13s who bounced ideas around and read through it a million times with us!

word count: 5k

CassieMitchell Masterlist

You and Jake had been together for a while, you two were comfortable with each other and with the sex that you had been having, but lately you both had been noticing the lingering gaze from Rooster whenever the Dagger squad was together, or when Rooster came over to your place to hang out. You and Jake had talked about bringing Bradley into your relationship for a while as a third lover, only Rooster had fallen deeply for you; he came around more often and started staying longer after rolling around the bed with you and Jake for a few hours to hold you. Aftercare moments got sweeter and longer, and while you reciprocate those feelings, you will always feel more love for Jake.

Jake noticed these small things and grew worried that you were tired of him and that he was losing you, but after a long night of you two together, you had assured him that you’re still very much in love with him. Jake was the one who suggested bringing him in, officially, actually. You knew from prior wine nights with Bob and Phoenix that he was quite the Dom in the bedroom, at the time it was random information but now? You can use that to your advantage. This began a plan of action, a sex-posal if you will, that will come to a head tonight. You had discussed the situation with Bob beforehand and he was all for it since he was getting tired of hearing Rooster talk nonstop about you and Jake any chance he got.

When you suggested bringing Bob into your weekly tryst with Jake and Bradley, neither of them were really prepared for it. They knew it was going to happen, it was just the when that they were unaware of. So when you surprised Jake one night when he got home from work, with nothing but his Stetson and a sexy lingerie set peaking from beneath one of Rooster’s Hawaiian shirts, he had a sneaking suspicion as to what was about to happen. You led him up to the guest bedroom, his brain whirring and cock swelling at the thought of getting a round in before Rooster showed up and the plan taking action, but instead he was pushed into one of the two chairs in the room.

“Whatcha doin’ Honey?” Jake questions as you move around to the back of the chair, looping the rope around his hands and the bars of the chair, loosely, according to the plan.

“Nothing.” you smiled innocently, moving around to the front of him, straddling his still clothed lap. “Just got a surprise for you, baby.” you kiss him softly on the lips before standing up. “Now, take this,” you wrap one of his bandanas around his mouth to gag him and slip a blindfold over his head, resting at his brows and ready to be pulled down just as Rooster calls out.

“Hey Pretty? Jake? I’m here!” he calls from the foyer, kicking his boots off at the door.

“Up here, Roos!” you call out and you look back to Jake, “you’re still okay with all this?”, he nods and you smile, slipping the blindfold down over his eyes. “Okay. Be good. Love you.” You smirk before strutting out of the room. “Hey big guy.” You hold the smirk, leaning against the entrance to the hallway, his shirt slipping down off your shoulder since you don’t have it buttoned properly.

“Well hello to you, pretty. What’s the occasion?” he asks, reaching out for you and you talk half a step back to tease him.

“Just a little surprise… wear this for me?” you ask, holding up the blindfold.

“Are you in charge tonight?” Bradley chuckles, taking the blindfold from you.

“You could say that. Now please?” You smile sweetly at him.

“Alright.” slipping the blindfold on, you take his hand and lead him into the room, gently placing him to the other chair.

“Ya know Pretty, normally I’m putting those knots on you.” Bradley chuckles, as you start wrapping the rope around his wrists.

“If you didn’t want me to use them on you,” you finish the knot, securing him to the chair. “You shouldn’t have taught me how to do it.”

You smile at your knot work before reaching over to pull Jake’s gag from his mouth before continuing. “Well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes.”

“Honey, whatcha doin?” Jake questions, still playing along with the plan and you laugh before reaching over and ghosting your fingers across their laps.

“Havin’ some fun.”

“What are you doing to us, Pretty?” Bradley groans as you move to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Remember when I asked if we could include Bob one day?”

“Yea baby, we had our meetings with him. We just gotta set a date.” Bradley says and you bite your lip before looking behind them to the shut bathroom door across the hall.

“Well how about right now? Bobby!”

The bathroom door opens and Bradley’s pulse picks up, not prepared for this to be happening.

“Oh, Pretty… I don’t know.” Bradley sighs out and you just smirk. “Jake?” he asks and Jake shrugs, knowing that Bradley can’t see but doing it anyway.

“I don’t see why not. It’s just a little bit of fun, Brad.” he says and Bradley’s anxiety is sky high over the situation.

“You sure you still wanna do this, doll?” Bob asks, his soft demeanor still showing, towering over you. You nod softly before going to pull Bradley and Jake’s blindfolds down from their eyes and Jake nods softly to you and Bob.

Bob grabs your jaw bone between his thumb and ring fingers, his hand essentially cupping the lower half of your face, forcing you to look up at him. “Look at me when I talk to you.” Bob says firmly.

“Hey woah Bob!” Bradley protests, “That's a little harsh, man.”

“You still wanna do this?” Bob asks and you nod, causing him to jerk your head again, “use your words.” Bob states, ignoring Bradley and his protests entirely.

“Yes.” you reply softly, receiving a light slap to your cheek. “Yes, sir.” you moan, skin tingling from the contact.

“Good girl.” Bob smiles. “What’s your color?”

“Green.” another slap, slightly harder. “Green, sir.”

“Bob, I don’t like this.” Bradley pulls against the ropes, trying to get to you, rescue you.

“It’s alright, Rooster. She asked for it.” Jake smiles at Bradley, thoroughly enjoying himself. “Plus, we’ve done worse.”

“And she’s not complaining. Are you, baby doll?” Bob drags his hand from your chin down your neck, thumb and middle fingers digging to the sides of your neck, just over your pulse points, dragging a whine as he gently chokes you. “What do you want, Doll?” his hands move to your chest, tugging on the lace cups of your bra. “You want me to touch you? Treat you like my little slut?”

You nod as he pinches your nipple, pulling slightly, a gasp sneaking past your lips.

“Ask them, doll.” Bob nods to Jake and Bradley, “Ask them if you can be my good little slut.”

Your eyes dart between Jake and Bradley as Bob’s lips begin an assault on your neck, “please-” you let a moan as Bob nips at your skin, “please let me be a good little slut for Bob.”

Jake nods and Bradley looks at Jake, adamant to let you go through with this but eventually he nods too. This causes Bob to smirk at the both of them.

“Enjoy the show ‘cause I know that your girl is really going to enjoy it.” Bob pushes you back into the bed with little care, rough but still respectful of the boundaries that you had set. “As much as I love this little number, doll, it’s gotta go.” he says before he rips the lingerie to shreds.

“Bobby!” He leans down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, gently nipping before swiping his tongue across to smooth it.

“And much as I love these beauties.” Bob smiles, long gone the shy backseater that Jake and Bradley were familiar with. “I’m more curious about how you taste.” he slides his left hand down your stomach, stopping momentarily to graze your clit before running his fingers through your slit.

“Shit, Babydoll, is this all for me?” Bob groans, feeling your warm slick. “Or is this because your boys are gonna watch me have my way with you?” he looks back at the two tied up aviators and smirks.

The moan that rips through your throat as he slowly slid one of his fingers into your wet hole was nothing short of beautiful to Bradley, who was trying to shake your knots free.

“Doll, these boys must not stretch you out very often if you’re squeezing me like this.” Bob groans as he feels just how tight your walls are around one of his fingers. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna remedy that right now.”

He pulls his hand away from you, slipping his slick soaked finger into his mouth and groaning at how sweet you taste. “Fuck babydoll, with as sweet of a pussy like you have, I don’t know how either of these boys don’t live between your thighs. Must be why Jake calls you Honey all the time, isn’t it?” he says as he adjusts his body so your thighs are thrown over his shoulders.

He gives you no warning before his lips are sucking your clit into his mouth. You let out a cry that nearly had Bradley breaking the chair to get to you, whereas Jake stays put, his cock rock hard in his service khakis.

Bob slips a finger back into your hole and immediately finds your g-spot, knowing enough about the female anatomy to get you screaming his name in a matter of seconds where with Jake or Bradley, it always took them a minute before they could really get you going.

“Fuck! Sir-please!” you cry out, fingers knotting in his short locks.

“Please what, babydoll?” he pulls away long enough to ask and you let out a sob.

“Pl-please let me cum!” you beg and he gets you right to the edge and then pulls away before you can fall into ecstasy.

“Robert!” you groan out and he slaps your pussy and you flinch, not in pain but in shock.

“What’s my name?” he says, teasing your hole with his fingers again.

“Sir.” you choke out as he gives a gentle stroke to your clit.

“What’s your color?”

“Green.” you barely finish the word before he’s slipping two fingers into you and massaging that special spot again, using this thumb to rub at your clit and you’re seeing stars as your orgasm builds.

Bob being the Dom he is, pulls away before you can come, again, and again, and again. You let out frustrated cry, tears running down your face out of pleasure and frustration as you nearly kick him in the ribs.

“Hey, do you want to be tied up, little girl?” he asks and you shake your head no.

“No, I’ll be good sir! Please.. Just let me cum I’ll be your good girl! I’ll be so good for you, please..” you beg and he kisses your inner thigh before sliding his fingers back into you for a final time, bringing your climax finally and you cry out as you soak the sheets below you and some of Bob’s neck, chest, and forearm.

“Fuck babydoll, you didn’t tell me you could do that.” he groans out, his accent prevalent and youre trying to catch your breath.

“Yeah I didn’t know that I could either.” you laugh a little and Bob kisses your clit before sitting up and looking at Jake and Bradley.

Jake is sitting there, wet patch gathering by this fly and Bradley is red in the face but also with a noticeable hardon. “Look at that, boys. I got your girl to do something that neither of you could. How does that feel?” he asks and Bradley struggles against the ropes again, cursing himself for teaching you how to tie these knots.

“You son of a-” he starts but is cut off when Jake kicks at him.

“Bradley, it’s okay. We agreed to this.” he tries to sound dejected but on the inside he is jealous as fuck. Bradley just huffs and sits back in his seat.

Bob slips out of his boxers before grabbing your hips and shifts you so you’re lying width-wise on the bed before he pulls you hips up so you’re on your knees, chest pressed against the bed as you look at Jake and Bradley. “Look at your boys, babydoll. I want them to see the look in your eyes when I split you open on my cock.” he says, running the head of his cock through your folds and you moan softly when he rubs against your clit.

You lock eyes with Bradley as Bob is pushing into you, your mouth falling open in a silent cry as he eases all of his cock into you, splitting you open into a way that was different than both Jake and Bradley. He doesn’t move, letting you adjust to his size for a second before slowly picking up the pace and he has you cock-dumb in seconds, the last look that you recognize on Bradley’s face is one of pain as he watches the woman he loves getting fucked by one of his best friends. His brain short circuiting in the worst of ways; maybe your love for him was all in his head, maybe you just wanted something fun for a while and you tired of him, maybe--

“Look at our girl.” Jake says, free of his bonds and running his fingers through Bradley’s hair. Bradley’s eyes snapback to your own unfocused pair, “look at how pretty she looks, all fucked out and cock-dumb from our best friend. “Think of how pretty she’ll look like this for you all the time.” Jake whispers in his ear and suddenly that’s all Bradly can think of.

Despite Bob being balls deep inside if you, fingers leaving marks on your hips, you're calling out Bradley’s name. It’s his name on your lips as you cum, not Bob’s.

The thought alone of you in subspace from another man, and calling out for him, makes his cock swell again. He was the only thing on your mind at the moment, not even your boyfriend who has untied Bradley and is pushing him towards the bed, peeling off both of their clothes in the meanwhile.

Bob smirks at him, having long since pulled out but his fingers slowly working in and out of you, “Come on Rooster, come get your girl.” Jake gives him another nudge forward and before Bradley knows it, he’s naked from the waist down and slipping inside of you, groaning at how tight you still are around him and your gentle little moans and chants fill the air once again as he fills you.

Bob takes a quiet leave once the three of you are all distracted, not minding that he didn’t get off from the situation, he wasn’t supposed to. It was for you and Jake and Bradley, he can always go find someone at the bar or call up any one of his subs in his contacts.

Jake sits near the head of the bed, stripped of his khakis and laying back in his boxers, watching Bradley fuck into you slowly and before he’s reaching forward and rubbing your clit. You cry out softly and despite Bradley not being inside of you for too long, they both know you’re going to be cumming soon.

Bradley picks up his pace, his hand replacing Jake’s on your clit so the other can leave to go warm up some towels for you, knowing that you’ll want to be clean after you finish. He swings by the kitchen to also grab easy to digest snacks, having gotten suggestions from Bob prior to the night's activities, as well as a bottle of water and your favorite flavor of gatorade before heading back to the bedroom.

Bradley has since picked up the pace, fucking both you and him to a fast completion. You go over the edge first, chanting nothing but “Bradley! Bradley! Bradley!” as you cum and he’s nearly falling on top of you from how tight your pussy squeezes around his cock. He finishes deep inside of you with a groan, a ‘fucking shit’ tumbling from his own lips as his hips stutter, trying to get as deep inside of you as he can, filling you to the brim with his cum.

Jake watches from the doorway, a smile on his lips as he watches the love of his life getting fucked by the new, partial, love of her life. Bradley looks up and the two men lock eyes, sharing a knowing smile before Jake makes his way to the bed, handing Bradley his own towel for when he pulls out and using the other one to clean you up, taking care with how sensitive you probably are.

As Bradley pulls out, you let out a whine, your body not ready to deal with the loss of his cock from between your walls. Jake is there as soon as Bradley is out to catch the other man’s falling cum in the towel. He folds it in and uses a clean side to gently wipe at your abused and puffy folds and thighs, he bends down and places a gentle kiss to the base of your spine before helping Bradley maneuver you into a laying position.

You curl up against Bradley’s chest after he gets settled down in the bed. One of his arms finding their way around your waist, pulling you tighter to him while Jake strips the top layer of bedding and tosses it off to the side. You trace absent shapes on Bradley’s pecs and he places soft kisses to the top of your head, murmuring softly into your hair.

“You did so well, pretty. You were such a good girl for all of us.” he says and you let out a whine.

“Wanna be a good girl… wanna be your good girl.” you mumble and Jake presses himself to your back after handing Bradley the gatorade for when you’re a little more coherent.

“You were such a good girl, honey.” Jake presses gentle kisses along your shoulder and you let out a gentle sigh, letting your weight press more into Bradley as Jake puts more weight into you to help you feel settled and safe.

After a few moments of gentle kiss and soft words spoken from both men, you start to come to. Stirring softly against Bradley as you try to sit up. Jake leans off of you just enough to allow you to prop up on your elbow and Bradley is handing you the gatorade. You drink almost half of it at once before handing it back to Bradley who caps it and sets it to the side.

“How’re you doing, pretty?” he asks, offering you a granola bar and you shake your head no.

“I’m… okay. How are you?” you ask and he smiles a little.

“Honestly? I was a little upset in the beginning. Thought that you were over me and moving on with Bob.” he says and you feel a little bad, but before you could open your mouth he’s talking again. “Jake helped me out, made me feel better when he called you our girl. Brought me back out of my head.”

You lean up and kiss him softly, “I could never be tired of you, Roos. Jake and I want you as a permanent member of our relationship. No more nights without you.. No more pretending that there isn’t something between us.”

Bradley smiles down at you softly before pulling you in for another kiss. Jake watches from his spot behind you with a smile before he’s reaching across you, fingers threading in Bradley’s hair and pulling him in for a kiss of his own, showing Bradley that he’s just as much Jake’s at this point as he is yours.

“We’ll figure the logistics of everything out tomorrow, let’s just get some sleep for now.” Jake says softly and Bradley nods, you’re already mostly asleep against his chest after the night's activities. The two aviators are asleep not long afterwards, smiles on their faces and their hearts full as everything feels like it's falling into place.

The golden rays from the morning sun are barely peeking through the crack in the blinds, illuminating the room in gentle yellow and pink tones as the sun rises. You awake naturally, having moved from your place on Bradley’s chest to Jake’s. His arm around your waist and while Bradley is curled up and facing away from you, not used to sharing his bed with someone else.

You place gentle kisses to Jake’s chest, eliciting a groan from the blond as you slowly shift out of his arms and off the bed, throwing on Bradley’s discarded Hawaiian shirt and making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up and brush your teeth.

Jake is used to you waking up earlier than him, so when he wakes up and he’s spooning Bradley and not you, he’s confused at first. His brain still fogged with sleep before his memories from last night kicked in. He smiles to himself, kissing Bradley’s shoulder before slipping out from the bed and following the smell of coffee to the kitchen.

“Good morning, honey.” he says, pressing a kiss to your neck as his arms find their way around your waist, pulling you back to him and you let out a small laugh as his lips assault your neck.

“Good morning.”

“Wanna taste you.” he mumbles against the skin of your shoulder and you shake your head no.

“I wanna taste you.” you say and put your now empty cup on the counter before dragging him away to the living room and pushing him on the couch. You straddle his thighs and kiss him, tongue slipping easily between his lips before kissing a trail down his neck, sucking on that spot just behind his ear that really gets him going, but careful enough to not leave a mark there that’ll get him in trouble with the Navy.

His hands grip your hips and you rut down against his brief clad cock, feeling him swell against you. You pull away and look down at him as you rock your hips gently into his, “wanna thank you for last night and for letting Bradley into our relationship.”

You sink to your knees, the carpet of the living room rug rough against your skin but you don’t care. You sit eye level with Jake’s cock as you work him out of the last piece of clothes he was wearing. Once his cock is free you notice just how red the tip is, after all he hadn’t had the chance to cum last night, despite the scene that played in front of him.

He lets out a groan as you take him into your coffee warmed mouth, his fingers gripping the upholstery of the couch in one hand, the other lacing through your hair as your tongue swirls around his tip.

You moan at his taste, slightly salty, a little sweet, and 100% Jake. You work past the head of his cock, slowly moving your head up and down his shaft, growing wetter yourself as his groans, moans, and pants of your name fill the air of the living room. One of your hands is perched on his thigh, keeping yourself balanced as you lean over his cock, the other squeezing the base of him gently.

“Oh fuck, honey. I’m gonna cum embarrassingly fast if you keep doing that.” he breathes out as you suck softly at the skin just below the head of his cock.

“That’s the point, wanna taste you Jakey… always taste so good.” you say, letting spit drool from your mouth and down on to his tip before thumbing his slit. You squeeze your thighs together as he lets out a groan when you tongue at the hole.

You slowly work him into your throat, moaning around him as he stretches your mouth open past what you’re used to, having never taken him all the way in. His other hand shoots to your scalp, fingers knotting themselves in your roots as he tries not to cum down your throat just yet.

He opens his eyes and sees Bradley leaning against the wall, arms crossed and brown eyes dark as he takes in the way you’re sucking your boyfriend off. They lock eyes and Bradley smirks. That’s all it takes for Jake to barely choke out a “f-fuck I’m gonna cum, honey!” before his cock is pumping hot cum into your mouth and throat. You gag softly, the choking noise sending another wave of your lovers seed down your throat. You swallow around him and take everything that he gives you.

You pull off of him and catch your breath, while Jake sits there and works to catch his own breath, nearly eye fucking Bradley as he finally makes himself known.

“If I knew that’s how mornings went in this house I would have tried to have been the first one awake.” he teases and your head shoots over to him, eyes wide. He takes you in as he saunters over, commiting how thoroughly fucked you look to his memory. Mouth and chin sloppy with your drool, lips puffy from being wrapped around Jake’s cock, hair disheveled from Jake’s hands.

Bradley wastes no time pulling you up to the couch next to Jake. He’s on his knees for you faster than you were on your knees. “Fuck, pretty. You got this wet just from sucking off Jake?” he asks, running his fingers through your folds and you let out a whine. “What made your pussy this wet? Having your mouth full of cock? Gagging on him?” he asks, lips attacking your clit before you can answer and you let out a cry, fingers finding their way into his curls as his tongue laps up as much of your slick as it can before he’s having to swallow your taste.

Jake groans from beside you, watching as the brunet eats your cunt out like a man on death row having his last meal. Bradley doesn’t care as your juices cover his face, he slips his tongue into your leaking hole, his ring and middle fingers spreading you open so he can properly tongue fuck you and you’re seeing stars above him as his nose brushes repeatedly against your clit.

Your orgasm approaches fast, taking you by surprise as you clench down around his fingers and the tip of his tongue, Bradley just moans in response before pulling his mouth away, fingers staying put and beginning an assault to your g-spot. He quickly pulls another orgasm from you, your cry silent as your pussy squirts out his reward. He wastes no time cleaning you up with his tongue, gathering your slick in his mouth before he’s sitting up and sliding his tongue in Jake’s mouth. Sharing the wealth of your cunt with your boyfriend. Both men are reveling in the shared taste on their tongue while you lay next to them and try to catch your breath.

Jake pulls away from Bradley long enough to take his two longest fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean, keeping the steady eye contact with Bradley as he does, causing Rooster’s erection to go from bearable to ‘I’m about to cum in my pants’.

You watch the two of them go through a power struggle only for Jake to come out on top, he looks over at you and smiles, “his face is looking mighty empty honey, why don’t you come take a seat?”

You just smirk and move from your place on the couch, crawling over to where Jake has Bradley pinned to the rug. You give Jake a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue and you let out a soft moan as you pull away, moving to straddle Bradleys face.

“I have died and gone to heaven..” he mumbles as he stares up at your glistening pussy before he’s pulling you down on his tongue. He groans into you as Jake takes the other man’s cock into his mouth.

Bradley doesn’t last long at all; between the taste of you on his tongue and the warmth of Jake’s mouth on his cock, he works to quickly make you cum again before he’s spilling into Jake’s hand.

You get released from Bradley and move to sit next to him, his head finding a home on your still quivering thigh. You reach out and take Jake’s hand, licking Bradleys cum from between his fingers and moaning at the taste.

Once you’ve cleaned Jake’s hand the best you could, he stands and pulls his boxer’s back up, a wet spot very visible against the gray fabric. He heads into the kitchen and grabs another rag, running the water so it’s warm before he’s tossing it at Bradley’s chest.

Bradley cleans up his face, your thighs, and then the cum that’s drying on his abdomen before setting it aside.

“I think it’s safe to say that, as a threesome, we work out pretty well.” you pant out and run your fingers through Bradley’s hair and he nods. Jake chuckles at this spot on the couch.

“As long as Bradley knows that he’s the extra in this relationship, not me.” Jake says, being gentle but firm as he reiterates that you’re his girlfriend first, not Bradley’s.

Bradley nods, “yeah, no I got it… As long as I’m allowed to take her out on two dates a month.”

“I think I can make that work.” Jake says, passing a bottle of water to Bradley who moves to sit on his knees, pulling up his boxers first before taking the bottle.

“Do I get a say in this?” you tease.

“Nope, sorry honey.”

“Yeah pretty, sorry. Besides, you got me out of this, didn’t you?”

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw #rooster #bradley bradshaw x reader #jake seresin smut #bradley bradshaw smut #jake hangman seresin #glen with the fucking tank and old camera #hangman #jake seresin #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd smut #lewis pullman #jake seresin x reader #bob floyd x reader #jake seresin x reader x bradley bradshaw #hangster x reader

[ghostofskywalker]

Sweet Dreams

Hunter/Reader

Fictober Day 1 of 31

Words: 914

Summary: You get a visitor in your bunk for the night, and Hunter can't help but find it adorable.

Note: happy october everyone! i'll be posting 31 fics for 31 different characters this month!

Clone Troopers Masterlist

The sound of someone whispering your name and the feeling of that same person shaking you awake was the first thing you registered when you opened your eyes. The bunk area of the Marauder was still completely dark, indicating that it was not yet morning, so you were a little confused about the reason you were being woken up at this point.

Blinking your eyes open (and trying to keep them from immediately closing again), you could see the faint outline of someone next to your bed. “You need smmm?” you managed to croak out, voice heavy with sleep. There weren’t too many rules on this ship, but one of the ones that did exist (and was usually well-respected among the squad) was the one about not waking you up, unless there was a serious problem (like fire, death, or ambush).

In the haze of your sleepy state, you could hear Omega’s voice, and as the world came into focus you could see that it was indeed the young girl who had woken you. “What’s wrong?” you asked, immediately snapping awake when you noticed the tearful expression on her face.

“I had a nightmare,” she admitted softly. “And I know you said-”

You reached out to take her hand. “I remember,” you said, shifting so that there was more space next to you in your bunk. “Do you want to lay with me for a while?”

Omega nodded, immediately crawling in next to you. A little bit after she had started traveling with you and the Bad Batch, you had all had a conversation about nightmares. When the other members of the batch had left the area, you had softly offered that if she ever had a nightmare and she wanted some company or wanted to be somewhere else, she had full permission to just crawl into your bunk, whether you were in there or not. At first she had tried to say that your offer wasn’t necessary, but softened when you talked about having nightmares yourself, and the two of you agreed that even big kids could be scared sometimes.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked as she got settled next to you, and you wrapped your arm around her once she had gotten comfortable.

“Not really.” Her voice was soft and slightly shaky, and you just smiled as you brought your arm up to run through her hair, the soothing gesture bringing a smile to her face.

“That’s fine,” you whispered. “I’m here if you change your mind, but it’s okay if you just want to stay here too.”

She nodded, and you could see (even in the dark of the ship) that she was growing more and more tired. You brought your blanket up to cover more of her body than it had been before, and the sound of your soft hums guided her to sleep, with you falling back asleep right beside her.

***

As Hunter stared out at the blue streaks of hyperspace passing by, he tried to keep his fatigue at bay. If it were up to him, right now he would be snuggled up in his bunk, fast asleep as someone else took a shift making sure that nothing in the cockpit blew up while they soared between systems. But unfortunately it was his turn to spend half of the night awake, and that dream could not be a reality for another hour or so.

Well, if it was really up to him, he would be snuggled up next to you. While he did not yet have the official title of “boyfriend,” something serious was certainly developing between you and him, and sometimes the two of you shared a bunk (something he secretly hoped happened every night). He didn’t think his brothers knew anything about it, but he wasn’t sure.

By the time Echo stepped into the cockpit to relieve him of his “shift,” Hunter was yawning and could barely find the ability to stay awake. He nodded at his brother in thanks as he got up to head back to the bunks, but as he walked down the hall, he could have sworn that he heard Echo say something about not being able to sleep in his bunk, which he just barely acknowledged before stepping into the room. Suddenly, his brother’s comment made both more sense and less sense (if that even made sense at all).

Hunter’s bunk (as expected) was completely empty, but he finally found the answers to his questions when his head turned to look at your bunk.

Omega was cuddled up next to you, and the two of you had similar expressions of tranquility on your faces. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face at the scene, and there was a part of him that wanted to see if he could get into bed as well, to try and wrap his arms around both of you. But he knew (as did Echo, apparently) that he wouldn’t be able to do so without disturbing you, and so Hunter decided to sleep in his own bunk for the night.

As he fell asleep, he tried not to think about the fact that he had apparently not been as secret in his affections as he previously thought, and it was likely that everyone on the ship knew something about his affinity for you.

And of course, he also couldn’t stop thinking about how cute you and Omega looked cuddled up together.

- the end - 

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#ghostofskywalker.fictober #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x you #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x you #hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader #clone trooper x reader #star wars x reader #tbb hunter x gender neutral reader

[writeforfandoms]

Run Wild 5

Find the series masterlist

Your pack insists on making your life both easier and harder, and you're not entirely sure how to feel about things. The situation doesn't improve when you and Horangi go on an op together.

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to animal cruelty, Mink is having a hard time with her emotions, pack dynamics, shifter dynamics, flirting.

Word count: 2.8k

The next few days passed in a blur. You couldn't have recited what you did if someone held you at gunpoint. 

But you didn't spend a lot of time with your pack. The two men. 

You weren't avoiding them, really. Not intentionally. Not really. 

You just…

Your cheeks puffed out as you dropped to the dirt, going through a training exercise with a squad. No König today. No Horangi today. 

Just training exercises.

You just needed to clear your head, that was all. 

Breathing slowly, you focused on your task. Just a little longer and you'd be done for the day. 

At least, that was the plan. 

Until Horangi met you at the end of your exercise, arms crossed loosely over his chest, sunglasses as impenetrable as ever. You blinked at him. 

“Come with me.” He uncrossed his arms, fingers twitching briefly. You nodded, falling in behind him, absently brushing yourself off. 

He led you inside to the offices, though he didn't slow down even as your nose twitched in curiosity. You hadn't been in here often, and you wanted to explore. But Horangi didn't give you any time, just turning down a hallway, expecting you to follow him. 

Which you did. Of course. 

He stepped into a conference room and shut the door after you. König was already there waiting, leaned back against a wall, gaze fixed on the two of you. 

“How are your recon skills?” Horangi turned to you as he asked, removing his sunglasses. The better to watch you, eyes dark and just a little narrowed. 

“Good,” you said slowly, gaze darting between your two packmates. “Better if I can shift.” 

Horangi nodded once, holding your gaze for a long moment before you blinked and looked away. “Good. We'll be going out on recon.” 

“When?” You stood up a little straighter. 

“Tomorrow. Briefing is officially in half an hour.” Horangi took one step closer to you, fingers closing around your wrist gently. “We will be the only two going in.”

“Two?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

“I am not as skilled at recon,” König rumbled, faintly embarrassed. “I am too loud.” 

Horangi chuffed, amused and fond. “Two,” he confirmed, still watching you closely. “Will that be a problem?”

“No, sir.” You refocused on your alpha, head tipping slowly to one side. “I can do it.” 

His eyes crinkled the smallest amount, like he was smiling under the mask. “You don't even know what it is yet,” he teased. 

You shrugged. “I can still do it,” you asserted with a brief flash of teeth. “I can do quiet.” 

“Hm.” Horangi nodded again and released your wrist. “Get cleaned up, meet back here in twenty-five.”

You nodded, though for a moment you stood still, just looking at him. His eyes would be covered again for the briefing, you knew. So you soaked in the trust he showed for a moment longer before you stepped around him and left.

You had to clean up, after all. 

But you made it back with two minutes to spare, sinking down into the seat next to Horangi. König was gone, though you didn't have a chance to do more than shoot Horangi a questioning look. 

The briefing was, well, brief. Shorter than you'd expected, actually. You were being sent in to find some information, very quiet. Just you and Horangi, as he'd warned you before. 

You didn't mind. You were good at recon. 

The building was isolated, meaning a trip in a helo, then a drive. The two of you had a few hours before you'd leave, which gave you time to grab a few necessities. 

The knock at your door startled you, and you paused with your hoodie in your hands. But you opened the door after a moment, curiosity winning. 

König stood in the doorway, filling the entire thing, looking even broader than normal. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, seeming uncertain. 

“König?” You blinked up at him. “Can I help you with something?” 

He shook his head, hood shifting with the movement. “Here.” He thrust one hand at you, gloved fingers curled around a piece of fabric. 

You took the fabric carefully, surprised at how soft it was. An old bandana, blue and black. Curious, you lifted your gaze to König again. 

He shrugged, now-empty hand reaching back to rub the back of his neck. “Just in case,” he mumbled, gaze dropping. 

“Thank you.” You pulled it closer, rubbing your thumb against it. “I'll bring it back.”

He shook his head again. “It's yours,” he said, speaking faster now. “A gift.” 

Your lips parted, because that? Was very different from something borrowed. 

“You will be late,” König fussed, taking a step back from the doorway. “Don't keep Horangi waiting.” 

Before you could gather your thoughts to say anything, he was gone, long strides carrying him down the corridor and away from you. 

You blew out a breath, letting your cheeks puff out. Well then. 

He'd given you a gift. Something personal, given how soft the bandana was. And judging by the fact his scent had permeated the fabric entirely, as proven when you lifted it to your nose. 

This was… unexpected. 

But he was right, you didn't want to make Horangi wait. You hurried through getting ready, throwing your hoodie on last. Since this was a recon op, you were dressed down, no longer in uniform. Which suited you just fine. 

Horangi was waiting for you at the helo, dark eyes giving you a swift once-over before he nodded his approval. He motioned you in first, settling next to you for the ride. 

It felt odd to see him without his sunglasses - he wore them constantly, even sometimes in the pack room. 

You only realized you'd been looking too long when one dark eyebrow arched at you. 

“Something on your mind?” The words were almost teasing. 

“Eh. Sort of.” You shrugged, forcing yourself to look away. “Just not used to seeing, y'know, that much of your face.” 

He snorted softly, one hand landing on your knee. “If you spent more time in the pack room you'd see more,” he murmured, definitely amused now. 

You huffed, playing at being indignant. “Yeah, sure.”

He eyed you but didn't push. For once. Instead he kept his hand on your knee for the rest of the flight. 

The drive was a couple hours, and he wordlessly got in the driver's seat, leaving the passenger side for you. You briefly debated laying down for a nap in the back… but gave up on that immediately. You'd rather spend the time with Horangi.

“König gave me a gift,” you blurted, without really meaning to. 

Horangi nodded. “I know.” 

“He told you?” 

“He didn't need to.” 

You eyed him but he didn't look at you, hands steady on the wheel. “Did you talk about it before?”

Horangi hummed softly, gaze flitting to you. “Briefly, yes.” 

You weren't quite sure how to feel about that, and so simply huffed softly. 

“If you came into the pack room more often…” He trailed off.

“You've mentioned.” You blew out a breath. “I guess I'll have to.” 

You almost missed the flicker of his lips into the barest smile. Almost. 

But that humor was nowhere to be found when the two of you reached your destination. Horangi parked the car, and you took a moment to stretch. Dawn was still a few hours off yet, giving the two of you plenty of time to get this op done. As long as things didn't go totally sideways. 

The last section of the journey was on foot, Horangi taking the lead. When he glanced back at you, you could just see the reflection in his eyes, undeniably green. Your lips twitched. What a cat, indeed. 

The smell hit you first, and your nose wrinkled against your will. Filth and waste left to sit too long, the faint tang of rusted metal overlaying it. The animal musk seemed out of place, but then again, this far out from a city any number of critters could be living around the building. The building was long and squat, single story, no lights on. 

“Here.” Horangi stopped at a window that had been left open a crack. “This will be the bathroom.” 

You nodded, recalling the map the two of you had gone over hours earlier. “Ten minutes,” you agreed. 

No more words passed between you as he boosted you up, and you pushed the window the rest of the way open to twist through. It was easier without gear in the way, but also left your shoulders and back tingling with the knowledge that you had nothing but fabric between you and any potential attack. 

But you were good at being quiet and sneaky, as proven when you made your way through the building. Nothing moved around you as you crept down the hallway, checking your doors and corners as you went. 

The smell got worse the further into the building you went. You opened the door at the end of the hallway and paused for a long moment, swallowing hard. 

The big empty room you'd seen in the plans was not empty. Instead it held a dozen or so metal cages, each one housing a small furry critter. A few of them moved as you did, eyes opening and feet shifting. 

Intel had been wrong about this room, and you wished you'd never seen it. But you had to push through to finish your task. 

You swallowed hard and crept around the outside of the room, focusing only on being quiet and avoiding any cameras. You couldn't worry about the animals, not right now. 

The office, at least, was exactly where it was supposed to be. It took moments to find and grab the documents you needed, lips curling. Well. At least Horangi would be pleased with you. 

Doing one more check of the room to be sure you had everything, you turned to go. 

Soft chittering made you stop. 

You couldn't understand the animals in the cages, no more than any human versed in body language could. But you could feel more empathy towards them. 

They didn't deserve this. But you needed to get out without leaving any sign of your passage. 

As much as you wanted to, you couldn't loose the animals in the cages. 

Jaw clenching, you forced your feet to move. Maybe you'd see if Horangi would let you come back and take care of the animals later. That was the best you could do, right now. 

The trip back through the dark building was silent, and you hoisted yourself up to the window, hanging half-out to hand the documents to Horangi. He looked amused when you slithered the rest of the way out. 

“Well done,” he murmured with an approving nod to you. Warmth filled your chest at the simple praise, and you basked in it for a moment. 

“Seemed pretty easy,” you murmured cautiously as the two of you snuck away again. “I mean, for us.” 

Horangi chuckled, dark eyes glancing at you. “Sometimes things are easy,” he murmured. “We're not paying for it.” 

You shrugged. Something still seemed wrong, but if he wasn't concerned, you weren't going to make a fuss about it. 

“You could sleep,” Horangi offered, even as he turned on the car to drive the two of you away. 

“Nah. I'll wait.” You stretched out a little in the seat, head leaning back against the headrest. The sky was just beginning to lighten with the first hints of sunrise, promising more. “Where are we stopping?”

“Safehouse,” Horangi answered, even though you were pretty sure you were supposed to remember that from the briefing. “In case we need to go back.” 

You hummed acknowledgement of that, glancing at him. Time alone with your pack alpha. You weren't entirely sure how to feel about that. 

“Promise I won't bite.” He flashed you a grin with teeth. 

You laughed, quiet but amused. “Ah yes, very reassuring.” 

He smirked, fingers flexing on the wheel. “Nervous?”

“Not particularly.” You grinned. “You had your chance to murder me in the middle of nowhere.”

He chuffed at you, briefly letting go of the wheel to pat your knee. “Won't be my only chance.” 

You laughed as his touch retreated again, leaving you warm and more relaxed than you should be. But you were learning to trust him, to give him bits of yourself. 

It was a heady feeling. 

The safehouse was boring, as most safehouses in your experience were. But it was warmer than outside and had blackout curtains, which would come in handy since the sun was up. 

You left Horangi in the main room to scout the rest of the place. Not that there was much to see - a single bedroom, a bathroom that König would have been absolutely squished in, and a hall closet with spare supplies. Nothing glamorous. But it would do. 

“Get some rest,” Horangi told you, sprawled along the length of the couch like a, well, cat. “I'll be up for a while.” 

You eyed him for a moment, debating how much you could push. “You'll rest soon?”

“Yes.” Far from appearing offended, Horangi smiled, just a little. 

You blinked at him, startled, warmth building in your chest at the sight of that smile. And promptly fled back to the bedroom. 

You absolutely should not like the sight of his smile that much. It wasn't that big a deal. It really wasn't. 

You were still trying to convince yourself of that when you dropped off to sleep. 

You woke before Horangi, sneaking past him to get some water. He'd managed to fall asleep on the couch, legs dangling over one arm, head tipped at an angle and torso twisted into some weird position that only a cat could enjoy. Shaking your head, you twisted the top off a water bottle, guzzling half of it in one go. 

Hopefully the two of you would get to head back to base today. Not that you minded being in a safehouse with him, but… it felt weird. Just the two of you, and no König. 

It was odd to leave a pack member out. 

Which was weird for you - it had been a long time since you'd been part of a pack, and longer since leaving someone out was even an option. All these realizations made you antsy, eager to do something, just so you weren't trapped in your own head. 

“You think too loudly.” 

You absolutely didn't jump at Horangi's voice behind you. You definitely didn't drop your water. “When did you wake up?” You asked him, eyeing him over the back of the couch. He hadn't moved at all. 

“I've been awake.”

“Liar.”

His lips twitched into another smile, small but very much there. You had to look away as heat suffused your face. 

“Any updates this morning?” You cleared your throat, picking up your water bottle and tossing it from hand to hand. 

“Not yet.” Horangi swung his legs around the side, sitting up and cracking his neck. “We'll hang tight a little longer.” 

You shrugged, wandering around the room aimlessly, too restless to settle. 

“Sit.” Horangi patted the couch next to him. “You can answer a few questions for me.” 

Well. That wasn't ominous at all. But you sat anyway. 

“What do you need in the pack room?”

You blinked at him, mouth dropping open a little. That… was not what you'd expected. “What?”

“You heard me.” His lips twitched again, eyes warm with amusement. 

Surprised, you leaned back against the couch, watching him. But he didn't change the question, didn't restate it. Just waited. 

“Not sure,” you settled on, a little cautious. “I don't need much.” 

Horangi made a short, dismissive noise at that. “Everyone needs something,” he insisted, head tipping to one side, gaze fixed on you. 

You blew out a noisy breath. You'd never given it any thought, if you needed anything in the pack room. “I don't… really know,” you admitted slowly. 

Horangi nodded slowly, never looking away from you. “Then we will figure it out.” 

You swallowed hard, the implication that he wasn't going anywhere, that he and König would help, bringing both a rush of joy and trepidation. You honestly weren't sure how to feel, now. 

Fortunately, you didn't have to figure it out. The phone rang. 

You moved away as Horangi made a face, reaching over the couch to grab his pack and the phone. You went back to the window to look outside, only half paying attention to the phone conversation. 

You needed to get your head on straight. Or move. 

“Time to go.” Horangi stood, shouldering his bag. 

You followed him silently back to the car, looking out the window without really seeing anything.

#run wild #shifter au #horangi x könig #horangi x reader x König

[adascore]

ONE FOR THE MONEY, TWO FOR THE SHOW

pairings: lionesses x captain!reader

warnings: swearing. england’s captain gets a red card for the very first time, and it doesn’t go down well with the team.

author’s note: first time writing for the woso community lol :) anyway, hope you guys like it !!

•••••••

''I went for the ball! You have eyes, right?''

The referee gave her a look, the same one a disappointed parent would give their child after letting out a swear word. ''Keep it clean, you know better.''

The England captain had raised an eyebrow at that last bit of the sentence, the officials usually not keeping her experience as a player in mind. Y/N just gave her a mindless nod, the yellow card was given- no need to fight it anymore.

''Clearly not a foul.'' Georgia said to her teammate, sticking out her hand for a subtle high-five.

Y/N chuckled at the midfielder’s words. ''Don’t worry about it, G.'' She slapped her hand, jogging back to her position.

The game continued, more yellow cards having been handed out to both the English and Scottish players. The referee’s patience seemed to have run out by some weird, unknown reason that none of the players had worked out.

Despite this, Y/N wasn’t too worried about her own yellow card. She’s had them plenty of times in the past, for the right and wrong reasons, so she was practically chilling on the pitch as her team led the match 3-0.

However, this changed as Hempo received her first card of the night.

She and the Manchester City player had a great friendship. Lauren joined the squad at a young age, and Y/N knew how hard it could be as the youngest of the team, so she took her under her wing. The younger one had been immensely grateful for the striker’s support, finding a role-model and older sister figure in her.

The captain hadn’t seen what had caused the referee to lift up the yellow card towards the winger, so she separated from the players as they were waiting on a corner, and walked over to the official.

''Why did you give her a yellow card?''

For some reason, the question was too much for the woman in the neon clothing, and without any words, she pulled the same card she had given out seconds ago and held it up high.

Realization dawned on her, the outcome of two yellow cards was one of the easiest rules in football.

Y/N didn’t even see the red card being brought out, her heart dropping to her stomach working as a distraction to her surroundings.

''No, no, no- what did I even do?'' As soon as the gears in her head started going again, her mouth started speaking.

The referee didn’t answer her question, simply letting out a deep breath as she could see the sea of Lionesses running up to her. ''Fucking hell, she didn’t even do anything!'' Rachel yelled, a big frown on her face as she fought her way to the front.

While a large number of her teammates argued back-and-forth with the referee, Millie and Alex brought their younger captain into their arms.

''It’s okay, don’t worry~'' They chorused, repeating the words over and over again, seeing the distress on their teammate’s face.

''I just asked her a question! I swear, it was just a question!'' Y/N defended herself, rambling almost.

''We know, we believe you, don’t worry about it.'' Alex assured her, feeling sad as she watched the captain’s distress unfold.

The referee tried getting closer, urging Y/N to get off the pitch. ''You have to get off now, Y/L!''

''Why are you giving me a fucking red card? I just asked you why Hempo got a yellow! What, we can’t ask questions now?'' She was going through all the stages, anger taking over as she pulled herself out of Millie and Alex’s embrace, stomping over to the referee.

''It was the tone, Y/N.'' She answered, although she didn’t seem too sure herself.

The striker’s eyes widened. ''What tone?! I asked you a simple question!'' She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

''You’re going to give red cards for questions now?!'' Ella spoke up, her voice booming above those of the others.

''Y/N, get off the pitch now, you’ve wasted enough time now.''

The captain had an uncharacteristic, defeated look on her face. She was about to take off her captain band, but a hand stopped her. ''No, you’re not going anywhere.'' Millie grabbed her arm, and gently dragged her behind herself, so the Chelsea player worked as a human shield between the referee and her teammate.

Y/N was touched by her team’s protectiveness. As the captain, she was often the one to stick up for others or argue with the officials a little longer than necessary if it pertained members of her squad. The fact that the center forward had never received a red card in her professional career, must have been an extra factor. She wasn’t a clean player, per say, but she knew how to toy with the boundaries of the game, and her great argumentative skills greatly helped in avoiding being booked.

''You alright?'' Lucy asked, pulling her further away from the chaos.

''I got a fucking red card, Luce! No! I am not okay!'' She let out, the older woman instinctively caressing her back at the visible frustration. ''You’re good, it’s alright.''

''It’s not- oh, fuck sake.'' Y/N swore, glancing away from Lucy to her teammates still fighting her red card with the referee.

LJ joined them, watching the chaos unfold. ''I turn around for one second, and suddenly everyone is running towards the ref.'' Lauren said, her indifferent tone making Lucy chuckle.

''The boss got a red.'' The Barcelona defender explained.

The youngest James sibling's eyes widened. "What? You?" She pointed at the captain, who nodded, unamused.

Y/N could see the official signaling for her to come closer, ignoring the arguments the Lionesses were giving her. ''You have to get off now, this is becoming a hazard. I’m not going to change my decision.'' She said, matter-of-fact.

It was evident that whatever the captain would tell her, would fall on deaf ears. ''Whatever, you’re fucking miserable.'' She looked her in the eyes as the insult was spoken, not an ounce in her mind or body caring about the consequences of it.

The truth was that she was the miserable one. It might have been naive of her to think she could go her entire career without receiving a red card, but she didn’t expect today to be the day.

She walked over to Millie, taking the captain's band off and handing it over, without saying anything further.

The rest of the English squad watched with sad eyes, and disheartened feelings as their captain, and arguably most important player, walked off the pitch with still double digits in game time left.

Sarina had jumped out of her seat the minute the referee pulled the second yellow card out of her pocket, infuriated over one of her key (and personal favorite) players being expelled from the game over something silly as asking why her teammate was being booked.

As Y/N passed her to go inside the tunnel, the Dutchwoman grabbed her hand, her eyes still on the game. ''We’ll talk, okay?'' Sarina didn’t expect an answer back, having worked with the player long enough to know she would want to chat with her about it.

It was a despairing sight to see the world-class player stroll all alone to the changing room, her usual confident aura replaced for hung shoulders, and eyes that told the entire world what she thought of herself.

Disappointing.

That was the best word she could come up with to summarize her feelings; disappointed in herself, disappointed in the officials, but above all, she felt like she had disappointed her team and staff- and as the captain, that was something hard to swallow.

She sat alone in the changing room- members of the staff figuring she wanted to be left on her own.

That changed as the door opened.

Keira had been subbed off a few minutes before the incident had happened, Katie taking her place on the midfield. She, along with the entire bench, had a hard time believing what was happening in front of them.

A bad feeling settled in her as Y/N walked off the pitch all by herself, not a single soul following her. Therefore, the Barcelona player excused herself and trailed their captain.

''You mind?'' She already knew the answer, but asking didn’t hurt.

Y/N shook her head, motioning for Keira to take the spot next to her. ''You? Never.''

''How you feeling?''

''Like shit.''

''Yeah, I predicted that.''

The striker chuckled at the monotone voice, feeling some sort of delight after what felt like forever. ''I’m so confused.''

''You’re not the only one. I didn’t hear what you said, but it couldn’t have been that bad for you to get another yellow- and don’t even get me started on the first one, obviously not a foul.'' Keira rambled, yet sounding sophisticated.

''I just- I feel like I let everyone down. I know we’re leading the game, but still- I should be out there playing. I’m the captain for fuck sake.'' Y/N swung her arm towards the door, before letting it fall on her knee with a hard slap.

Keira sighed at her words. ''You’re always so hard on yourself. No one is angry at you or disappointed.''

''I’m not hard on myself, Kei. I just have an important role in this team, so I can’t afford to make mistakes.'' The captain clarified, although it didn’t do much to dispute the midfielder’s words.

''Yeah, that sounds like someone who is not a perfectionist.'' The sarcastic tone didn’t escape Y/N, and she bumped their shoulders. ''No, but, come one. You know what I mean- not only do I have to keep the entire team together, I also have to score goals or make sure that someone else scores them.''

It was the first time she had truly expressed the pressure that was being put on her, she was known in the team for keeping it all to herself. Keira attentively listened, feeling almost honored it was her that the captain was venting to.

''I like the pressure, though. I know I can handle it, I’ve been doing that for years, I know I was only made captain cause Steph got injured, but it’s still a huge deal to me, you know? I know I don’t always say it, but it really does.''

''We know it does. You might not say it, but it shows. You’re the best captain I’ve ever got to work with, you have a way of getting everyone together.'' Keira interjected, complimenting her leadership skills.

Y/N raised her eyebrows at the praise. ''Best captain, huh? So better than Alexia?'' She mentioned the captain at Barcelona.

Keira lightly slapped her arm. ''Yeah, you like that, huh? Don’t tell her that, though.''

''You know I’ll tell her as soon as I get the chance.'' Of course the England captain wouldn’t mention it, but making her friend think that didn’t hurt.

''If that makes you smile, then I’ll take it.''

''You’re flattering me, Kei.'' Y/N muttered, not quite believing the praise that was coming out of her mouth.

The midfielder scoffed. ''Hey! I’m being genuine!'' She exclaimed, almost offended. ''Don’t let this one game affect your confidence. I know you like everything perfect, but these kinds of things are out of our hands,'' she referred to the referee’s decisions, ''you’re still the boss, you know? Or what did they say after the Euro’s… you’re an icon.''

The captain gave Keira a little shake at the mention of the compliment she had been given by a reporter after the final at Wembley, embarrassed by being called iconic. ''Oh, shut it, you!''

''It’s true, though! It stings right now, but you’ll get over it. By the time the next game comes around, no one will be talking about it anymore.'' Keira’s words did give her some comfort, knowing it was the truth.

''Yeah, I know… It was kinda cute, though- the way everyone was defending me.'' A small smile found its way to the player's face.

''You always do it for us, so it was time we all do it for you.'' She simply said, as if it was not a big deal.

Y/N did not answer, unsure of what an appropriate follow-up could be.

''Did you see Tooney’s face? I know she was being serious, but it was too good.'' Keira chuckled, reminding the captain of the way Ella immediately started yelling with a scowl.

The striker laughed a bit louder this time, starting to see the humour in the situation. ''Yeah, what a lovely girl.''

''She was ready to start a revolution for you. Probably still is.'' Keira grinned, enjoying the shift in Y/N's mood.

''And then you had LJ who didn't even know what was happening, she came up to me and Lucy- totally confused.'' Y/N explained. 

The midfielder bursted into laughter at Y/N's revelation. ''Wait, LJ didn't get the memo?''

''No, she just casually walked up to us and was like 'why is everyone running towards the ref?' I guess she thought it was a new halftime tradition or something. Lucy filled her in and her eyes almost bulged out of her head.'' The captain chuckled at the memory. 

''Classic LJ.'' Keira remarked. 

As they chatted, the sound of the crowd outside the changing room echoed, reminding Y/N of the ongoing game. 

''I should apologize to the team later.'' Y/N considered, realizing she hadn't addressed her teammates properly after the incident. 

''No, they know you're not the problem here. Besides, we all know you're not a fan of early showers.'' Keira teased. 

She chuckled at her friend's joke, but couldn't shake off the feeling of dejection. Keira noticed her demeanor was shifting again. 

''Don't worry about it, they know you didn't do anything wrong,'' Keira reassured her. ''Besides, half of them are probably still arguing with the referee about the whole situation.'' 

Y/N snorted at the mental image. ''True, they're a protective bunch.'' 

''Well, we've got a great, certain center forward to look up to,'' the Barcelona player winked, ''you're still our captain, Y/N. Red card or not.'' Keira added, a genuine smile on her face.

''Thanks, Kei,'' Y/N said, appreciating the support. She leaned back against the locker, trying to let go of the frustration that still lingered. 

''You know, you should focus on the positives,'' Keira suggested, her tone thoughtful. ''We're winning 3-0, and I'm sure the girls have got an extra motivation now.'' 

''I guess you're right,'' Y/N sighed, ''I just wanna fucking play.'' 

''I know, but you can still analyze, see things you wouldn't notice on the pitch.'' 

''Always the optimist,'' the captain teased, a small smile breaking through. ''I'll try to channel my inner tactical genius from the sidelines.'' 

As they continued chatting, a sudden knock echoed through the changing room, drawing both Y/N and Keira's attention. The door swung open, and in walked another teammate, a familiar face with a sheepish expression. 

''Are you fucking kidding me, Hempo?'' The striker exclaimed, though there was an amused grin present. 

Lauren shrugged her shoulders, sitting down in her cubby. ''I figured I'd join the exclusive red card club with the captain.'' 

''Seems like it's the trend today.'' Keira added, joining in on the laughter. 

''Y/N always tells me to just follow her lead, so…'' 

''Hempo, this isn't what I meant by that.'' 

The trio shared more laughs as they bantered through their early exits of the game. The tension of the match outside seemed to disappear as they focused on their camaraderie. 

requests are always welcome!

#woso x reader #lionesses x reader #lucy bronze x reader #keira walsh x reader #woso fanfics #millie bright x reader #alex greenwood x reader #woso imagine #engwnt #engwnt x reader #lauren hemp x reader #georgia stanway x reader

[wileys-russo]

stanway x reader where r is basically the back up cdm for england, only really plays that last few minutes of games if any so when keira gets injured at the wc, r freaks out because they have to go on and then play after until keira is back. maybe have georgia trying to comfort and hype up r before and then in one of the games where r plays the full 90, r makes like a big game saving tackle and georgia is super proud and happy for r after (you’re like carrying the woso fics on this app rn so thank you!)

crucial touch II g.stanway

"babe i'll be lucky to even see the pitch this tournament, i'm the back ups backup and i know that. i knew it when i accepted the call up!" you smiled at your girlfriend who frowned back at you from where she stood at the end of your bed.

"but i'm just sayin maybe if ya just talk to sarina and make your case you could get a start!" georgia pushed, knocking your legs apart and crawling up the bed to sit herself between them looking down at you.

"are you telling me to go behind your best mates back to try and get a start over her? harsh." you whistled teasingly, panic flashing across your girlfriends face as she stammered out that wasn't what she meant.

"gee! baby relax, i'm only teasing." you laughed, sitting up and grabbing her hands to still her.

"i love you and i appreciate you going to bat for me but i promise i am just happy to be here. would minutes under the belt be amazing? of course. but is being in australia, training with the squad and being with some of my best friends and girlfriend every day also amazing? yes!" you squeezed her hands with a smile of assurance, frown still dented into her features.

"but you've had such a great season and moved to the european league baby and-" "no more buts, i'm not going out of my way to plead for minutes with sarina. i trust that she always knows whats best for the team, that was well proven in the euros and i felt so much pride even just watching from the stands." you'd torn your hamstring mid last season which had unfortunately meant you weren't fit for squad selection, but despite how hard it was at times to watch your friends and wish you were in their position you learnt a whole new set of valuable lessons.

"babe i promise i am okay." you continued when once again your girlfriend opened her mouth to argue, finally giving in with a sigh and a nod.

"georgia!" you laughed as she pushed you back down onto the bed and flopped her body on top of you. "m'tired baby, lets cuddle and have a nap." the girl patted your head as her own settled on your stomach and your hands threaded her hair tugging it out of the bun it once was.

"what happened to going to watch the sunset before dinner?" "well, it rises and sets every day doesn't it? i'll take ya tomorrow."

~

"did she just say its her knee?" you whispered to lotte who was sat beside you, eyes flashing with the same fear you knew was conveyed in your own as she nodded. "shit." you mumbled, biting your lip nervously as the medics rushed on toward keira.

your leg bounced anxiously as they called for a stretcher, your stomach falling as sarina gestured for laura to start warming up as one of the coaching staff hurried over to run her through the plays.

all of you on the bench sent smiles to keira as she was stretchered off and disappeared down the tunnel, the sub made official as laura ran on and everyone tried to shake off what happened.

"they could have given us a small break of time to reset, they're clearly shook up." you mumbled to lotte who hummed in agreement, both of you watching on with limbs locked tight in stress.

thankfully the girls scraped by taking the 1-0 win against denmark and you didn't think you'd ever held your breath as long as until that final whistle blew ending injury time and the game.

you walked in between ella and georgia as you did your lap, thanking the fans, but you could tell that despite the smiles on everyones faces nobody was thinking about the win and rather worrying for how keira was.

and in particular if the team would see yet another victim to that dreaded three letter curse.

~

despite keira thankfully not having done her acl, she was under forced rest and a careful rehab program, and wouldn't be playing in the next game against china.

knowing that your teammate was okay had eased the mounting tension within the team and after a bonding day at the local zoo everyone was in high spirits.

which was likely what lead to the following 6-1 domination over china a few days later, everyone in even better spirits that night which was filled with karaoke, dancing and cheese boards much to lottes delight.

things took a more serious turn two days later at training when laura took a rather abrupt tackle from millie and headbutted the goal post, winding up with a concussion and with keira still not cleared to play that was how you found yourself sat across from sarina in one of the hotel meeting rooms.

she informed you'd not only be getting your first minutes of the tournament but would be in the starting eleven in tomorrow nights game. you had to ask her how to repeat herself making the dutch woman laugh and congratulate you, making a point to say she'd noticed that despite not playing you had still played a very crucial role within the team lifting morale.

still slightly in disbelief and pinching yourself with a sharp hiss you exited the room, making a beeline right towards your girlfriend who was mid darts game with niamh, ella and lucy.

with a wordless shake of your head you grabbed her hand, ignoring all of her questions and your friends teasing remarks behind you as you dragged her away from the game, staying silent right until the two of you were back in your room.

"baby whats goin on? you're bein very weird has somethin happened?" georgia asked for the tenth time, taking a seat on the edge of your bed as you shook your head and paced back and forth.

"oi, sit down and speak to me love ya gonna wear a hole in the carpet." georgia grabbed your hoodie and pulled you to stand between her legs, hands on the small of your back holding you there.

"i'm starting tomorrow." you blurted out with wide eyes, georgias own bugging nearly out of her head as her grip on you tightened. "you what!" she gasped out as you nodded firmly. "yeah, coombsy's still not cleared and neither is kei." you shook your head in disbelief.

"baby! you're starting in the fuckin world cup!" the breath was stolen from you as your girlfriend lovingly slammed you down onto the bed and jumped on top of you, kissing all over your face and mumbling how proud she was as you couldn't help but grin.

"wait!" you pushed her off and sat bolt upright. "what if i get injured? or i let in a goal? or i cause a penalty? or-" all of the worse case scenarios flew through your head, slamming around and around like a pinball machine.

"hey hey, stop that." georgia frowned, grabbing your face in her hands and forcing you to look at her. "you won't. you are so so brilliant, and hardworking, and passionate. it doesn't matter if this is your first start in a world cup or another match for bayern love, you tackle it the exact same way you enter any game. with your whole heart and ya head screwed on right!" georgia gently squeezed your cheeks and placed a tender kiss against your lips as you exhaled and collapsed into her.

"i'm starting tomorrow." "you're starting tomorrow, and you are gonna smash it baby."

~

the day of the match itself you were still a nervous wreck. word had spread of your start and in small groups all of the girls came over to congratulate and hype you up.

and as much as you appreciated each and every single one of them all of their hope and praise was just adding onto your existing nerves, which your girlfriend seemed to pick up on as she gently shooed everyone away, tucking you into her side at breakfast and changing the subject.

she made sure to sit beside you on the bus and walked you around the stadium for the pitch check with your fingers interlocked tightly with hers, swinging your hands together and distracting you with kisses when she noticed your mind start to wander.

right before warm ups your phone rang and you lit up seeing it was leah, you'd played with her for years at arsenal before taking the plunge to germany when both frankfurt and bayern came knocking.

so stepping out of the room the blonde gave you a stern talking to about believing in yourself and making the most of the opportunity the situation had presented you no matter how it came about.

and with that in mind you reset your headspace and tuned in, georgia sending leah a quick text thanking her as whatever was said worked as you now seemed your confident self when walking out for the line up.

unlike last match against china the game against nigeria was anything but easy. they were a fast and agile side and came out aggressive, so you did your best as a team to meet them like that but after a brutal 90 minutes it was still deadlocked at 0-0.

mary had been putting in a shift, everyone had, and with lj earning a red card you were down to 10 when they announced there would be extra time as a break was called and everyone huddled together on the sidelines.

sarinas words ringing in your ears you sucked up how much your body ached and readied yourself to go again, vowing to leave absolutely everything on the pitch as if it was the last game you ever played.

your chance came in the 118th minute as you missed a crucial tackle and one of the strikers snuck past you. you knew from watching her throughout the game where she'd likely shoot from so you diverted tactics.

you knew it was a risk but you had to trust your gut like always and sprinting down the length of the field on the opposite side your legs burned and ached but you just used that to spur yourself on.

sure enough it was a risk that paid off as the striker slotted the ball past mary who watched in horror as it slipped beneath her thigh and she crashed to the ground.

but you were there without even a millisecond to spare, the ball clipping the edge of your studs as you slid your body across goal and tapped it out earning them a corner but preventing the winning goal.

you only breathed once the referee signaled for nigeria to take their corner, your head slumping against the ground as you took a moment to reset and marys gloved hands hauled you up off the ground.

"you are a fucking superstar for that one mate." she grabbed your face and kissed your forehead with a loud mwah, brushing the grass off of you as you grinned and everyone set in for the corner which would be the last play of extra time.

your hands falling to lucy's waist you felt millies grab yours from behind, a defensive tactic which was yet to fail you as once again a goal was prevented with mary jumping to tap it over the top of the goal as the whistle blew yet again signalling the game would go to penalties.

you watched with baited breath, squished in between beth and millie as each kick was taken. you winced as your girlfriend missed, watching her face fall but sending her a reassuring nod and mouthing that you loved her.

beth, rach and chloe were next all sinking their kicks as chloes hit the back of the net with record speed and the stadium erupted into cheers, you'd done it and you lived to see another day, you'd won.

you raced right over to your girlfriend amid the celebrations who had the same idea, jumping onto her and wrapping your legs round her waist, both of you forgetting you'd just played over 120 minutes as her legs buckled and the two of you crashed to the ground.

"i am so so so fucking proud of ya!" georgia beamed, pressing her forehead against yours as you lay on the grass tangled up with one another. you were well aware of your surroundings but in her arms and by her side everything else slipped away, the two of you lost in one anothers eyes which shone with pride.

"can i kiss you?"

your girlfriend seemed taken aback by the question and your eyes widening you went to stand but your body locked up in surprise as her hand balled your jersey and tugged your lips to meet hers, neither one of you caring for a single moment what anyone thought.

in that triumphant moment all you had eyes for was each another.

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #georgia stanway x reader #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso community #engwnt #georgia stanway

[bakugoushotwife]

Threads of Fate // s. gojo x fem!reader

a/n: the series is hereeeee!! thank you to my lovely discord server who helped me title this and listened to all my ramblings and plans for the series! I hope you guys love chapter one!

spotify playlist for chapter by chapter vibes!

here’s a Spotify playlist for the first chapter :)

cw: cursing, a little meanness, gojo, unedited

wc: 4.6k

series masterlist // chapter two

You were born special, that much was clear. A baby girl born to the Jujutsu Clan of Nashville sorcerers with the genetic gift of the Quelling Eyes, something your twin was not so lucky to receive. Your brother was fraternal to you, younger by just a few minutes. He had an equally terrifying and special ability, but it was apparent that his twin was destined for greater things. The two of you were number one and two in the western circuit, respectively. 

It was lonely at the top, even if your twin brother was right behind you. The higher ups expected more out of you than your classmates. They gave you harder missions and even assigned task forces under your guidance. You were expected to do things with ease, blessed with powers and techniques that no one in America had seen before, other than the genetic Quelling Eyes, and not much was known about them. You were the first line of offense and defense in any unexpected situation, even though you were just a fifteen year old girl. They made it a point to keep your brother separate on his own teams, not keen to let you two rely on each other. American sorcerers were war machines, and nothing else. You were a perfect weapon. 

Well, nearly perfect, anyway. 

It was a day like any other, the humid summer atmosphere filling your lungs with rocks as you tried to train your hand to hand combat. The sky was especially blue and clear that day, the sun exceptionally bright. Your twin tauntingly blocked every kick and strike you threw his way, the two of you in a battle of ego. You were two sides of one sadistic coin, pushing each other to be the most powerful version of yourselves. He couldn’t stomach your designation as number one, and you were determined to not let him surpass you. 

“Y/N. Pack your bags. You’re going to Tokyo.” Your drill sergeant said, interrupting your sparring contest just as you were starting to make him stumble. You groan and dramatically turn your nose in the air, not even really noting the words, just that your sergeant spoke. “You leave tomorrow. Be ready, L/N.” He read off a piece of official letterhead. 

“Hah?” Your brother furrowed his brows in disgust. “Tokyo? What for?” He asked, unstrapping the velcro of his protective gloves. 

You nod, tearing yours off with your teeth, unbothered to do it the easy way. “Yeah! What for?” You ask, perfectly manicured brow raised. 

Your instructor seemed annoyed, though that was to be expected with you in his charge. A bubbly but egotistical teen girl with the ability to back up her loud mouth was hardly his ideal student. He glanced back at the paper. “The Commission thinks you’re ready for your own squad, but they want you to help our allies in Tokyo to polish your skills. Says something here about training with their number one sorcerer, Satoru Gojo.” 

Your brother kicks the training dummy, discontent to see you sent off elsewhere. “She’s an American sorcerer. She should stay in America.”

You roll your eyes a bit. He was every bit as much of a dramatic egoist as you. You clap your hand on his shoulder. “Rest easy, bro. You know that means you get to be number one while I’m gone.” You tease, poking your tongue out at him. 

He deadpans. “Whatever, dipshit. Try not to destroy the city you’re in, this time.” He huffs, cleaning up the equipment you two drug out onto the football field today. Jujutsu School of Nashville was much like any other American highschool, though it had a much more military-esque authority presence. The school was your average brick foundation, lengthy hallways that lead to empty classrooms to study techniques and the major clans of the United States. Being a part of the Southern District gave your education a questionable undertone, as the south hasn’t been notable for their schooling over the years. Perhaps that’s why the Commission sought to send you on missions like these every so often, getting you experience with other teachers and techniques. The last time they sent you away had been talk of the school for years, you took down two special grade curses but happened to destroy the Australian village you were fighting in. 

“That happened once!” You huff, slapping your brother on the shoulder. “And the special grades woulda tore it up anyway, so I don’t wanna hear it!” 

Your twin just smiles and shakes his head. Your teacher sighs at the bickering, and just tiredly waves the letter at you, repeating, “5pm. Tomorrow, L/N.” Before he walks away. He sighs to himself, hopefully you would survive this round of missions too, but he could never be too sure with the U.S. Commission seemingly testing to see how much you could take before you snapped. 

It’s lonely at the top. You’ve known this since you were old enough to understand your power, and you’d estimate that realization at around five or six. You were able to overcome most of these struggles due to your bond with your twin and the repeated message that you were fated for a higher purpose. 

Though your brother wouldn’t be coming with you to Tokyo. This would be for you to navigate alone, and you were feeling this loneliness on your sixteen hour flight to Japan. The Academy has been all you’ve known since you started there. Once the severity of your power was realized, the government paid a pretty penny for you and your brother. Family loyalty hardly meant anything compared to the almighty dollar, plus, you were quite the unruly pair. 

Still, you had each other, and that had been enough. Until they separated you too, all in an effort to increase your power. 

Power. Tch. You were the best there is, plain and simple. All their tactics worked, paired with your natural prowess, you were sure there was nothing left to learn and no one on earth who could beat you. Your brother was extremely strong, able to bend time to his will. It’s nearly unconquerable, yet you can still best him every time. So who was this Satoru Gojo and why do you give a flying fuck? Your higher ups constantly seeking to sharpen your craft would soon realize you were as powerful as they come. Yet still, you didn’t want to walk in blind, nor show all the cards in your hand when you meet your new classmates for the first time. Your brother scored some books about the Gojo clan of Tokyo, highlighting important sections for you to study on your trip. 

You decide to pick up the heaviest book, leatherbound and dusty. It was about inherited techniques and idiosyncrasies within the clan, and your eyes land on the highlighted passage. 

“Mukagen Rikugan: The Six Eyes. A genetic power rarely inherited within the Gojo clan. They are not a cursed technique that needs to be activated—” 

That certainly piques your interest. Your Quelling Eyes are genetic as well, but they are very draining to your cursed energy. This means he has the opposite ability, you can’t help but chuckle through your nose at this. You read on to learn more about your future forced companion. 

“But an innate technique that grants the user the ability to master Limitless. Several hundred years must pass in between wielders and there will be no two Six Eyes users alive at the same time.”

Hm, that’s certainly interesting. Your eyes were passed generation to generation, with no limits to how many wielders can be alive at the same time. You figure there must be massive amounts of powers involved, and already the mention of another innate technique that he surely possessed to be hailed as the best in the east. 

“A Six Eyes bearer has immense perception and unrivaled visual prowess far beyond that of any other sorcerer. Their eye-sight is comparable to high-definition infrared vision, which allows them to see even when their eyes are covered. They can easily see from several kilometers away–” 

You figure that has to be a large distance, and you know you’re in for trouble in Tokyo. You know enough of the language to work your way around, but conversions like these were never your strong suit. The power sounds insanely strong, and you find yourself excited to meet someone with as much natural talent as you.

“---and distinctively tell apart different figures within that range. The Six Eyes can see the flow of cursed energy, empowering their bearer with the ability to read an individual’s cursed technique in use and determine its function. They can even identify between different types of cursed energy.” 

You smile to yourself. What an interesting ability. Your Quelling Eyes worked similarly, you too could differentiate between the types of cursed energy, but you specialized in repressing the circulation of it. Though the power took a lot of your own cursed energy to use for long amounts of time, it was insanely useful. Satoru Gojo would know what your cursed technique is upon meeting, but you wondered if he would discover your Quelling Eyes as well. 

Next was the books about the Limitless technique. It too, was an inherited family technique, though it seems only a user of the Six Eyes can maximize its potential. 

“Infinity is the base state of Limitless and is essentially the power to stop. The technique works the same way convergent and divergent sequences do in mathematics. The infinity is the convergence of an immeasurable series, anything that approaches the infinity will slow down and never reach the user. This is because the technique takes the finite amount of space between the two objects and divides it an infinite amount of times. The invisible barrier created by the Infinity can be expanded to keep harmful substances away from the user or to overpower someone attempting to neutralize their technique.”

You study some more notes on the subject, noting that the teen can’t actively support Infinity at all times just yet, having to decidedly turn it on and off at his choice. Either way, your ocular prowess should be enough to overpower it, and sneak your actual technique in, whether he’s expecting it or not. You hadn’t met the boy yet, but he was your new rival. It was clear he held tremendous ability, but you also wonder if he’s ever been challenged in the way he’s about to be. You hope to be a surprise, noting some records your brother tracked down that told of Satoru’s unbearable attitude and ego-centrism. You grin to yourself, knowing your teachers probably spoke of you in a similar fashion. 

You gaze out the window of your airplane, wondering what this meeting would hold for you. Which one of you would be humbled in this affair? You can’t help but smile as you picture a boy out there just as if not more powerful than you. You wondered if he felt the weight of the world pressing in around him, too. You wanted to know if he experienced that same loneliness that you felt, with everybody looking at you like a superhero instead of a little girl. Would he be relieved to find someone who knew what that felt like?

When you step out of the terminal in Tokyo, you aren’t sure what to expect. It’s not as if your school gave you many details to begin with, though they probably didn’t receive many themselves. The Commission was the federal level of sorcerer authority, so they only gave out what they needed to. You look around for anyone reeking of cursed energy, figuring that would be your best bet. But you’re met with an older man holding up a sign with your name on it. You arch a brow, chuckling softly to yourself as you adjust your backpack on your shoulder. It made you feel like you were in some romantic comedy, though the driver definitely couldn’t be the main love interest. 

You approach him anyway, dragging your suitcase behind you. He nodded his head to greet you. “Y/N L/N?” 

You nod back, giving him a polite smile. “In the flesh.” 

He seems unamused. He opens the trunk and loads your luggage in, leaving you grimacing awkwardly and debating if you should just duck into the sleek black car and eat the embarrassment or try to help with your bags. 

“Go ahead and take a seat, Miss Y/N.” He says sternly, and you nod with a tight lipped expression. Already making friends in Tokyo, your brother would be so proud. 

You sigh and shove yourself in the back, annoyed at yourself for being so nervous in the first place. Sure it was a foreign country, new people that only had a brief idea of who you are and what you can do, and the seemingly daunting task of learning aside Satoru Gojo. But you are a powerhouse. No amount of pressure can break a diamond. You can handle whatever Satoru Gojo and any other students of Jujutsu Tech have to throw at you. 

You repeat this mantra to yourself as the car winds down a curved path, no doubt taking you to the secluded castle-like building of Tokyo’s sorcery school. You can see the outlines of three figures waiting on an open field. It almost reminds you of the football field back home, though it’s not as long and most definitely not used for football in its spare time. The driver stops before the field, looking at you through the rearview mirror. 

“Go ahead. The teacher will guide you from here.” 

“Kudasai, my bags?” You ask, sliding out of the backseat. The driver only waves you off and keeps driving. There was a tall man with sunglasses, the man you assumed would be the sensei of your squad. There were two other boys with him, both tall but opposite in hair color. One had the most striking white color and the other had long dark locks. You peered in at them through the slats of the fence, unsure how to make your grand entrance. You had planned to make yourself a spectacle, impossible to ignore as you burst on the scene. 

“Ah! She’s here already! Come, come Miss L/N!” The teacher calls out as you approach, though the other two surely detected the magnitude of your cursed energy. The dark haired one seemed…surprised. The white haired one peered over dark circular lenses at you, expressionless. 

You step into the gate with a smile. From what you could tell, they were both pretty attractive. Maybe you could have a little fun while in Tokyo. “You must be Yaga-sensei?” 

He chuckles and nods. He waves you closer, brightly smiling  as you stand just a few feet away from the group. The black haired man exchanges a look with the white haired counterpart, though now that you’re closer you can decidedly say they’re good looking. The dark-haired man’s hair was long, but he had angled layers that framed his sharp features. His eyes were kind though, and his lips curled into an inviting smile. 

“This is Suguru Geto!” The teacher says, holding the boy by both shoulders. If possible, his warm face shifts into an even brighter smile. “Be nice to her, she’s from America! Tennessee!” The man chuckles as he pronounces the silly name. 

“It’s nice to meet you, L/N-chan!” He beams, extending his hand for you. You smile easily, your features soft and seductive. You’re easily the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, though he knows Shoko would be devastated to hear it. You take his hand in both of yours, leaning forward a little to give him an adorable nose-crinkled smile. 

“It’s lovely to meet you, Geto-senpai.” You hum, which flusters the boy a little. He averts his gaze from your shyly, clearly taken aback a bit by your forwardness. He shakes his head quickly. 

“Oh–no, we’re the same age so you can call us san!” He chuckled, releasing your grip. The pink on his cheeks is still evident, but your eyes had already shifted to the boy staring intensely at you. He had the most peculiar eyes that you had ever seen before. They were bluer than the sky, glowing with an ethereal brightness. It’s captivating, the way he analyzes you without any trace of his findings on his face. Yaga-sensei moves to his shoulders. He’s a couple inches taller than the first boy, but not as broad. He’s much lankier, but you can tell by his cursed energy that he is insanely powerful. It all makes sense. You realize who this is as your new teacher says it. 

“This is Satoru Gojo!” He says, and you see the hint of nervousness creep up onto his face. He clears his throat before announcing his next bit. “Satoru! You will train with her, she is on your power level!” 

This makes the boy show his first emotion of the day, genuine joy. He laughs, a hearty, full- bodied chuckle. His head is tossed back, shoulders jumping, his hand over his heart enjoying the hilarity. Suguru looks at you apologetically, but you smirk, and hold your hand up as if to say, “I got this, buddy.” 

This was the outcome you had figured most likely in your head. You’re extremely prideful and some would even say intolerably full of yourself based on your upbringing as a highly valuable military style weapon. After reading up on the Gojo clan and the powers their little Prince inherited, you figured he would be just as bad, if not ten times worse. Yaga seemed terribly embarrassed, but you gave him another award-winning grin. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Satoru-san.” You grin, folding your arms over your chest as you weigh your options. You couldn’t tell if he knew of your eyes, or if his infinity was currently active. You extend your hand, hopefully answering one or both of those questions. His face was playful, those sparkling eyes, flickering from your hand and back to your face. He seemed amused if nothing else now, his rejection of your hand only answering the question about your eyes and his infinity. “Oh, don’t insult me. I know you can read my technique anyway, but I could always show you much more effectively.” 

At this, Satoru’s grin spread. You seemed to understand his special eyes, and he wondered what else you knew. Your cursed energy was weird. It seemed like it was vibrating, and it didn’t course through your entire body. He thought that odd, but he knew he could figure that out with a brief spar. In his mind, he was also unbeatable. He stepped forward a bit. 

“You’re on, Miss Americana.” He chuckled, thinking himself at the advantage since he can see how your cursed technique works.

Suguru stepped forward a bit nervously. “Now, Satoru, that’s rude, she just got here–”

“I’m okay Geto-san.” You hum brightly. “I think I can impress, if nothing else.” You say, tying your hair up out of your way and subtly activating your cursed technique. You don’t take your eyes of Satoru, knowing he noticed your activation. 

“What’s your technique, anyway?!” Suguru asked, slightly panicked at the impression Gojo would leave on you on your first day here. 

You arch your brow at your opponent. “Do you wanna tell him, or can I?” 

Satoru is officially intrigued by you. You’re unafraid, he enjoys that, even if some poor American bastards lied and said you were as strong as he is. “The floor is yours.”

You hum, a sly grin on your lips. “‘Preciate it. You see, Geto-san, I have cursed threads, kinda like puppet master jutsu from Naruto.” You giggle, letting the invisible strings wiggle out toward your opponent. You knew Satoru wouldn’t allow them to meet his skin, so you hum some more. “I can control the speed, the number of them that appear. Ideally, I’d wrap these around your limbs. They’re sharp, so they cut as you wiggle against them, and it gives me some manipulation of your limbs. Of course, Gojo-san’s Infinity technique won’t allow that.” 

Suguru seems intrigued. “That sounds powerful!” He says, eyeballing his friend's reaction to you understanding his technique as well. 

Satoru is of course overjoyed by your knowledge. “Seems like someone did their research! Where were you from again? Hollywood? Brooklyn? Dallas! Yeah that’s the one.” 

“No it’s not.” You chuckle, a little thrown by his derailing. “I’m from Tennessee–”

“Dallas it is. Listen Dallas-chan, I see you know your enemy. If that’s true, why’d you even step up to embarrass yourself?” 

You roll your eyes at his nickname, deciding to fight that battle later. “Because I’m gambling.” You smirk, knowing this caught him off guard. He was striking to look at, really, and if he wasn’t such a dickhead you thought you may let him off the hook just for being pretty. You sigh, ready to show all your cards now anyway. 

Satoru raises a brow now, curious to what you could mean. He knew about your second form activation as well, a much scarier and painful version of your cursed threads, if that’s what you intended to show. You wink at Suguru, blinking slowly. When your eyes open again, they glow with a purple flame-like visual enhancement instead of your normal color. The boys look at each other in surprise. Satoru knew there was something off about the energy at the top of your head, but he didn’t surmise another ocular power. Soon, he feels his infinity melt away, your threads speedily wrapping around his arms and legs. 

He even chuckles when you thrust him to his knees, much to Suguru’s shock. “What did you do to him??” He asks, puzzled beyond belief, he knew your eyes must be behind it, but he didn’t understand how. 

“She repressed my technique with those eyes of hers. It’s cute, but now that I know about it, you’ll never win again.” He sighs, unbothered by your show of power. Though part of him chills, knowing your second form was so painful and crippling that your domain had to be the cruelest one he’d seen. Another part of him is highly interested in this. He hasn’t seen anyone come close to your strength, the amount of cursed energy you had did rival his own, though it was clear your techniques consumed more of it. Your attitude interested him even more, unwavering against him. You would be fun to play with. “Good job, Dallas-chan.” He teases. 

You roll your eyes and release your technique, setting him free. His cursed energy was odd. It seemed to flicker like a fire and call out to you, despite being repressed by your power earlier. “It’s Y/N. Nashville is nowhere near Dallas.”

He shrugs. “I dunno, I think Dallas suits you better than Nashville though. Your real name sucks.” He grins when he says it, but Suguru covers his face with his hands. He was going to be cleaning up Satoru’s mess forever. He almost comes up with something to say, but you remain undeterred by the boy’s relentlessness.

“Whatever you say, Gojo-san. I think I’ll show myself around your training facilities now. I’ll only answer to Y/N.” 

You wave to your new teacher, who sat and observed your confrontation with his most troublesome student. He decided then that you would be the best thing or the worst thing to happen to Satoru, and he had desperate hopes for the former. Then you wave off to Suguru, turning to walk past Gojo on the narrow track. He stepped in your way as if to shoulder check you, but instead of you stumbling back and him giggling at you, both of you looked at each other in shock. 

The place where your bodies touched sparked, and you didn’t know what to make of it. You eye his cursed energy, and the flames pull towards you again, like a magnetic field. Satoru is just as concerned, realizing that your energy’s hum was getting heavier and heavier, like a metal detector discovering gold. There was an unfamiliar connection formed, but neither of you knew what to think about it. You tear your eyes away, heart thundering in your ears. Your body had grown warm, like his energy was an actual fire that your energy accepted as a source of its own. He hums, tucking this in his mind to explore later. That is until you start walking away from him and he feels like he’s left naked in the snow. His body goes cold, and his feet scream at him to follow you, as if it’s the only way he can get warm again. The sparks start to intensify as he grows closer to you. He stops himself from following any further, growing confused as his body slowly becomes cold again as you disappear from view. 

What the hell was that? He felt drawn in and he didn’t like it at all, it must be some innate technique of yours. Whatever it is, he has to figure out how to shake it off of him. 

For the rest of the night, all you can think about is each other. You lay in your new room, staring up at the blank ceiling, wondering what could have caused your energies to have a physical reaction to each other. You knew you were both incredibly strong, maybe it was due to that. Perhaps you two were too strong to interact! Yeah, that makes sense. But you were sent here, deliberately partnered with him. How could you complete your missions if you avoid him all the time? You wouldn’t be able to, and then you wouldn’t be able to go home. So whatever happened out there tonight, you had to put it behind you and focus on the missions to come. Even if he was remarkably handsome and stupidly cunning, what did that have to do with you? His ego is a huge turn off anyway. He couldn’t handle you and you couldn’t handle him. That’s why your energies sparked. You’re sure of it. You would prove yourself to him time and time again. And you had to start with training practices tomorrow morning. 

Satoru mirrors your position in his own bed. He figures this must be your doing, maybe there was more to you that his Six Eyes couldn’t register, just like your ocular abilities. Although, the image of your smirking face and the unabashed way you flirted with Geto came to mind. Maybe he was interested in your power, maybe he was just interested in you. Either way, it was incredibly frustrating. All he can focus on is the way his shoulder burned from connecting with yours, and the intensity of your eyes locked on his. This isn’t like him. He’s met a plethora of gorgeous women, and sure your foreign American charm must play into it, but geez, he felt pathetic. You seemed so sure of yourself and your energy made it clear how strong you really were. He hated having you on the brain. He would see you again for training, and there he could put an end to his stupid wonderings by smacking you down for good. He’ll expose your power for the cheap ploy it is and send you back to America with your attitude adjusted. Then he won’t have to deal with your strange effect on him or your annoying ego. And he’ll start with practice in the morning.

tags: @aepinkoutsold @purpleguk @ddora-kken @naorizenin @makiville @getosbigballsack

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satosugu x reader #jjk #jjk gojo #gojo series

[fluentmoviequoter]

Speed Limit 2525

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: When Tim Bradford goes head-to-head with a bomber, he finds himself on a bus carrying a bomb and you.

Warnings: spoilers for Speed (1994) (I think this qualifies as an AU/rewrite), angst, bombings, nightmares, death and fear of dying, teasing, fluff, a little make out scene at the end? basically every warning that applies to the movie and The Rookie. I also made up a story about "Reaper"

Word Count: 11.7k+ words

A/N: This isn't completely proofread, but I'll be back soon to check it. I hope you enjoy!🤍

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Shoot him.

Tim doesn’t feel the trigger depress, only the hot desert air beating against his face. Though the trigger doesn’t move, a bullet rips through the barrel and into Tim’s only surviving squad member. He yells to warn his teammate, but no sound comes out. The wind is loud in the desert, yet the sound of Tim’s friend falling against the sand seems to echo for miles.

“Bradford,” the injured soldier coughs. “Wrong target, Reaper.”

Tim’s chest is tight with guilt and anxiety when he wakes. The sheets are wrapped tightly around his legs, and his shallow breaths distract him from freeing himself. Before he has time to orient himself, Tim’s phone rings and snaps him out of his post-nightmare, adrenaline-fueled state as he reaches across the empty pillow to answer it.

“Bradford,” he says.

“Get to the station as soon as you can,” Sergeant Grey demands. “Your Metro captain has me calling everybody in. We’re sending patrol units out, too. It’s gonna be a long day, Tim.”

Tim forgets about the nightmare and the memory within as he rushes to get ready. Tim’s tunnel vision focuses on work, and everything else fades away. Middle-of-the-night calls aren’t unusual, especially for a Metro Sergeant like himself, but this many officers getting a wake-up call is. Whatever is happening is big, and it doesn’t sound to Tim like it will be over any time soon. He makes it to the station in record time, and his commander is directing the other Metro officers when he enters.

“We don’t have time,” she says suddenly. “I’m running this force from here. Sergeant Grey will fill you in on the way. Get to the target location and stick together. Bradford, you’re with Temple!”

Tim nods as Harry Temple walks to his side. Harry was one of Angela Lopez’s first patrol partners, but he decided Metro was a better fit when the time to move forward in his career came along. Like Tim, he was in the Army before becoming a police officer, and he and Tim have some shared experiences. Neither of them is overly eager to bond over them, however.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Tim asks Harry as he turns on the lights and sirens in the shop.

“All I heard was ‘elevator,’” Harry answers. “I’m assuming they’re more to this than that.”

“Listen up,” Sergeant Grey says over the radio. “This is your official brief. When we roll up to the scene, we go straight in. No time for questions after we exit these cars. Fifteen people are trapped on an express elevator. The owner of the building is also inside. A bomb took out the cables, and our bomber is demanding three million dollars, or he blows the emergency brake, too. Cell phone service is spotty in the building, so we can’t rely on that to track anyone or anything.”

“Cell phone service is nonexistent in the elevator. A defensive move against trade secrets,” someone adds.

“What’s our clock, Sergeant?” Harry radios.

“He gave one hour when he called, which leaves us with twenty-eight minutes.”

“The only thing that’ll stop the elevator is the basement, right?” Tim adds.

“The city plans to avoid that. They’re working to release the money.”

Tim stops the shop beside the curb at the front of the building. He leaves the lights on as he and Harry remove their weapons from the back and meet the rest of their tactical team in the lobby.

“We can’t just unload them,” an officer says.

“The bomber wired the elevator doors and the hatch to trigger the bomb. So, he’s crazy, but he ain’t stupid,” Wade explains as he enters.

“Harry volunteers to examine the device,” Tim interjects. “He was on the bomb squad in the Army.”

Harry turns to glare at Tim as he says, “Right. And since Bradford also has Army experience, he’d like to provide a second opinion.”

“Fine,” Wade says. “You two check it out. Hey! Where’s the nearest access panel?”

“32nd floor,” a nearby employee answers on his way out. “It’s in the hall by the storage closet.”

“Report only. We’re in a holding pattern until we get word from your Commander back at the station. Confirm building evac and keep your radios active.”

“What about the other elevators?” Harry asks the employee.

“In an emergency, all passenger cars go to the nearest floor and shut down,” he says.

Tim frowns and moves his gun to his side. “Looks like we’re walking up the stairs.”

Harry nods before sprinting up the stairs behind Tim. Tim outpaces him but waits at the access panel for Harry to arrive with his small tool kit. He begins removing the nuts from the metal cover while Tim watches the hallway. Harry gives Tim a signal and Tim lifts the metal sheet. Light filters into the elevator shaft as Tim crawls through the opening and moves to the top of the elevator, where the bomb rests.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the L.A.P.D.,” Tim announces loudly. “There has been an elevator malfunction. Just relax and we’ll have you out of there as soon as possible.”

Harry looks up from the bomb and raises his hands in question.

“I didn’t lie,” Tim defends.

“I don’t recognize this work, Tim. Whoever our bomber is… he’s a pro and the work is solid,” Harry says.

“Bradford, Temple, hold position,” Wade radios. “We’re waiting to hear back from the bomber.”

Tim looks at his watch and muffles a curse. Their time is nearly out, and Tim continues to look at his watch rather than think about the lives in the metal death trap below his feet.

Harry sees the look in Tim’s eyes and decides to distract him. “Terrorist in a crowded room, five pounds of dynamite. He’s got a deadman’s stick. What do you do?”

“How close am I?” Tim asks, looking away from the elevator.

“Twenty feet.”

“Taser. He can’t let go with enough volts surging through him.”

“Alright, hot shot. Fifty feet?”

“Nice try.”

“Airport, then. Gunman with one hostage, using her for cover. He’s almost on a plane, you’re a hundred feet away.”

“Why is the hostage always a woman in these scenarios? Watch too many romcoms in the academy?”

“What do you do?” Harry repeats.

Tim kneels to examine the bomb once more and remembers his nightmare. Shoot him. He shakes his head before answering, “Shoot the hostage. Take her out of the equation, he can’t get to the plane, and I have a clear shot.”

“You are out of your mind, Bradford.”

“This is wrong,” Tim says suddenly. “He’s gonna blow it. How much do you think this elevator weighs?”

“Why? You wanna try to bench it?”

Tim doesn’t acknowledge the teasing as he adds, “We can do something about the hostages.”

“No shoot them, right?”

“Roof,” Tim reads as he points to a roof access sign. There’s a heavy-duty winch secured to the corner of the roof, and Tim runs to it as he says, “We don’t shoot them. Just take them out of the equation.”

Tim pulls the cable from the winch toward the elevator housing on the roof. He drops it in and watches it fall several feet before it catches.

“It’ll hold,” Tim tells Harry. “It’ll hold,” he repeats, quieter.

“Six minutes,” Harry alerts.

Tim throws his legs over the edge of the housing and lowers carefully onto the elevator cable. He hooks the winch hook to his tactical vest before moving down in the elevator shaft. Wade and the Metro team argue with the city council about releasing the money in the lobby, and no one has a clue that the shooter is listening to their radio frequencies. Without cell phones, they’re completely reliant on their radios to stay in touch with one another. Tim ignores his radio as he flips so he’s headfirst as he nears the trapped elevator.

“One more pop quiz,” Harry begins. “Psycho Sergeant Tim Bradford rigs an elevator to drop thirty stories. What do you do?”

Tim rolls his eyes before gesturing for Harry to hold the winch cable steady. A small pile of C4 waits beside his feet, but Tim ignores it as he secures the cable hook to the frame of the elevator.

“Why did I take this job?” Tim murmurs.

“Hey, a few more decades and you get a tiny pension and a free watch,” Harry answers.

“Hit the switch, Temple.”

Harry runs to the winch, hoping that the cables used to wash windows are strong enough to catch a free-falling elevator. He flips the switch, and the winch begins pulling in the cable. As the extra cable Tim pulled into the shaft begins unspooling, he moves up to the open access panel.

In the basement, a man missing a thumb presses a button on his handheld device. Instantaneously, a red light illuminates on the bomb. Tim sees it and throws himself through the access panel just before the bomb goes off. The passengers begin screaming, but the winch catches the falling elevator before it reaches the bottom of the shaft.

“What is happening, Bradford?” Wade asks, his concern evident over the radio.

“He’s early!” Harry yells as he returns from the roof.

“We have to get them out of the elevator. They can’t be lower than 28,” Tim exclaims.

When he and Harry meet the rest of their team on the 28th floor, they see that the elevator is stranded between floors. Only the floor is accessible from their current position, but there is no time to run up and down the stairs and look for the perfect access point. The elevator passengers lower to the floor and Tim and Harry pull people out one at a time. Tim pulls the last woman to safety seconds before the winch fails and the elevator plummets to the bottom of the shaft. After the sound of impact, Tim and Harry lean back against a wall and pant from the effort they exerted.

“Is your watch slow?” Tim asks.

“Nah. He jumped the gun,” Harry says with a shake of his head. “We had three minutes.”

“He blew more than the elevator. He blew his three million dollars. Why would he do that?”

“Maybe he decided it wasn’t worth it.”

Tim sits up as he declares, “He’s here.”

“He could have blown that thing from anywhere, Tim.”

“He knew we were doing something, that’s why he acted early. That means he’s close.”

“He’s not gonna corner himself in the building. The building we evacuated.” Harry leans his head back against the wall and thinks for a moment before he adds, “He’d want to be here, yes, but stay mobile… The elevators.”

“All of the passenger cars stopped, and we checked them.”

“Did we check the freight elevators?”

Tim’s eyes widen in realization as he and Harry push themselves to stand and run to the freight elevator doors. Once Tim pries the door open, he slides down the cable and lands on top of a car. Harry reluctantly follows and freezes when a noise echoes inside. Tim doesn’t notice Harry behind him as he prepares to enter the elevator. Before he can, a shotgun is fired between them, and Harry falls into the elevator. The man inside knocks him out with the butt of the shotgun, and Tim waits until the elevator moves up to drop in through the roof panel. As he lands, he looks up and sees a shotgun barrel in his face.

“I don’t suppose anybody would pay me three million dollars just for you,” the nine-fingered bomber muses.

He pulls the trigger, but the gun is empty. Tim removes his Glock from his side and demands the bomber lower the shotgun. He does so but opens his coat to reveal dynamite strapped to his chest and a deadman switch detonator in his hand.

“Hotshot,” the man begins. Tim’s jaw clenches as he realizes the man listened to their conversations over the radio, but he can’t say anything before the bomber says, “Terrorist holding a police hostage. He’s got enough dynamite to blow the building in half. What do you do?”

“Fifty cops are waiting for us in the basement,” Tim states.

“Standard flanking, I’m aware.” He presses a button on a device wired into the elevator controls. “So, maybe we’ll get off early.”

The elevator stops at a parking level, and Tim watches as the bomber pulls Harry toward the door. His eyes open slowly, and Tim keeps his eyes on Harry rather than the man pulling him.

“Well, end of the line, Bradford. This day has been a real disappointment, I don’t mind saying.”

“Why? Because you couldn’t kill everyone?” Tim asks.

“There will come a time, hotshot, when you will wish you’d never met me.”

“I’m already there.”

“Look! I have your partner, I’m in charge! I drop this stick and they clean us up with a sponge!”

“Go ahead!” Harry yells. “Drop the stick!” “Shut up!” Tim demands.

Harry looks at Tim and mouths, “Shoot the hostage.”

Shoot him. Wrong target, Reaper. Tim takes a deep breath and shifts his arms to shoot Harry in the leg. He collapses onto the floor, and the bomber steps back in shock before running into the garage. Tim steps over Harry to shoot behind the feeling suspect. As the man reaches the door, he looks over his shoulder to smile at Tim before he disappears. Tim can’t check on Harry as the garage explodes and the force pushes him back against the wall. As Tim collides with the concrete behind him, everything goes dark. And everything changes.

After Harry’s unplanned and involuntary retirement party, Tim nearly oversleeps. His alarm pulls him from a dreamless sleep, and he winces at the sound before turning it off. Before he showers, he decides to go for a quick run to clear his head. Once he’s dressed and ready for the day, he drives to his favorite café. It’s one of the only places in Los Angeles where you can get a decent cup of coffee and breakfast without being surrounded by millennials working on their screenplays. Tim nods at another regular, Vince, as he enters.

“Hey, Tim. You look awful,” Bob, the owner of the café, says.

“Thanks, Bob,” Tim grumbles.

“Pretty boy party too hard?” Vince asks Tim.

“I- I don’t remember that well.”

“Wake up alone?”

“Always do.”

“Must be nice,” Bob interjects. “The last time I partied like that I worked up married.”

Tim shakes his head as he accepts his order and walks out behind Vince. He sets his coffee on top of his truck as he retrieves his keys from his pocket. Vince’s bus starts behind Tim and pulls away from the curb. Tim turns to wave at Vince before unlocking his door.

After it crosses the first intersection, the bus explodes. Tim stumbles as he looks toward the source of the noise. He runs to the bus as it rolls to a stop and fights against the flames to help Vince, but it’s too late. As Tim lays his hands on his knees in shock, he notices an abandoned cell phone lying on the sidewalk behind him. It rings continuously, and Tim doesn’t hesitate before he answers the phone.

“What do you think, Bradford?” the bomber from last month asks. “You think if you and Harry find all the driver’s teeth they’ll give you another medal?”

“Where are you?” Tim demands.

“Twenty-second delay. I’m in the air duct when the garage blows. Did you think I wouldn’t come prepared? I spent two years on the elevator job. Two years. I invested myself in it. You couldn’t understand the commitment I have. A child, Tim, you’re a child. You ruin a man’s life’s work and then think you can walk away. You’ve got blinders on, but I got your attention now. Didn’t I, Tim?”

“Why didn’t you just come after me?”

“This is about money – 3.7 million. Not you and your ego. None of it had to happen, Tim, and I hope you realize that. How long do you think the driver’s wife and kids will wait before they get worried tonight?”

“When I find you, I will kill you,” Tim threatens.

“There’s a bomb on a bus, hotshot. Once the bus hits fifty miles an hour, the bomb is armed. If the bus drops below fifty, it blows up. What do you do?”

Tim doesn’t answer but looks around for any sign of the suspect.

“What do you do?” he repeats.

“I’d want to know what bus it was,” Tim answers. He’s accepted the challenge and knows that it has to end with a death: either his or the bomber’s.

“You think I’m going to tell you that, Tim?”

“Yes.”

“Very good.” The man sounds happy, and Tim presses a hand against a nearby wall to control his anger. “Now there are rules, Tim; we have to do this right. No one gets off the bus. One passenger leaves, I will detonate it. Now, if I don’t get my money by 11 a.m., there’s also a timer.”

Tim looks at his watch: 8:05 a.m. “I can’t pull that money in time-“

“Focus, Tim! Your concern is the bus. Don’t call, the radios are jammed. Number 2525, running downtown from Venice. At the corner of Lincoln and Pico…”

Tim drops the cell phone and runs to his car to follow the bus. The lives on that bus are in his hands, and he doesn’t plan to shoot any hostages today.

“Please stop! Sam!” you yell as you chase your bus.

You don’t want to ride the bus, but since your most recent speeding ticket, it is your only mode of transportation. In the few weeks since your license was suspended, you’ve gotten to know the driver, Sam, and some of the regular passengers. You hope that camaraderie is enough to convince Sam to stop for you. The brakes on the bus squeal as it stops, and the door opens.

“This look like a stop to you?” Sam asks.

“You are an amazing man, Sam,” you say as you walk onto the bus. “The men in books and songs have nothing on you.”

You swipe your bus card and take a seat before saying hello to Ortiz, a regular passenger. Comfortable in your seat, and glad that none of the passengers are in a talkative mood this early on a weekday, you relax and hope to get your car back soon.

Tim drives his truck in and out of traffic, onto the shoulder, and into the emergency lane as he tries to catch up with bus 2525. Other drivers honk their horns, flip him off, and yell insults through open windows, but Tim doesn’t notice or care. If he can stop the driver before it reaches 50, then the bomb will never activate. The only danger would be the man with the detonator.

You look up as Sam slows for a traffic jam.

“Can’t you just drive over them?” you ask with a smile.

“Is it always like this?” a man asks from the back of the bus. “It’s my first time here, and it took me three hours just to get out of the airport.”

“Yep,” you answer. “It’s usually worse.”

“That’s why I never drive,” the woman behind you interjects. “I’d never have a car in this city.”

“I have a car. I miss my car,” you lament.

“In the shop?” the tourist asks.

“Something like that. Sam, seriously, the bus is huge, just run them over,” you say again.

When Tim sees the bus has stopped because of a stalled car ahead, he sighs before he pulls onto the shoulder. He exits his truck and runs toward the bus, but the accident clears faster than he expected, and begins moving before he reaches the door. Hitting his fist against the side, Tim yells for the driver to stop.

“Can’t blame him for wanting to get on the bus,” you mutter as you watch him slap an open palm against the door.

“Get off the doors, man! Wait for the next one,” Sam yells before he speeds up.

Tim removes his badge from his pocket a moment too late. He continues chasing the bus, and you look down at your phone as the other passengers watch the unknown man run down the freeway.

Nearly half a mile from his truck and with no other option, Tim stops and waits at the edge of the road. He sees a speeding sports car approaching, and he moves into the middle of its lane and raises his badge.

“Stop!” Tim yells over the traffic.

The young man driving the car slams on his brakes to avoid hitting Tim. Several cars behind him blow their horns, and he raises to yell over the convertible’s windshield.

“What the-“

“L.A.P.D.,” Tim interrupts. “Get out of the car.”

“This is my car! It ain’t stolen and you have no right!” the driver argues.

Tim pulls his gun from its holster and says, “It’s stolen now. Move over.”

The man nods quickly before he jumps over the console and settles into the passenger seat. Tim sits behind the wheel and swerves into another lane as he ignores the owner’s pleas not to scratch the car. Tim drives the expensive, sporty convertible exactly as he had driven his truck, and the man in the passenger seat covers his eyes in fear for his car more than his life. As Tim steers the car beside the bus, he lays on the horn. Sam looks over and immediately recognizes him, and his eyes widen to prove it.

“I’m a cop!” Tim yells.

Sam lowers the window and raises his voice to ask, “What?”

“L-A-P-D!” Tim spells slowly. “There’s a bomb on your bus.”

“There’s a what?” Tim’s passenger exclaims.

“I can’t hear you,” Sam says.

“There’s a bomb on the bus!” Tim repeats.

Sam shakes his head, and Tim looks at the convertible’s speedometer. He’s over 50, so the bus must be, too.

“Drive!” Tim yells as he gestures for the bus to keep moving. “FIFTY! STAY ABOVE FIFTY!”

Sam nods rapidly and trembles a bit as he holds the speed steady. The commotion draws your attention, and you turn in your seat to watch the man who desperately needs a ride or is crazy.

“Call the Mid-Wilshire division station,” Tim says as he hands his phone to the man beside him. “Ask for Detective Angela Lopez.”

“Okay, okay.” The man speaks into the phone briefly before passing it back to Tim.

“Angela,” Tim says.

“Why are you calling me on your day off?” she asks. “Harry’s here, if you’re looking for him.”

“He’s alive.”

“Who?”

“The bomber! He’s back.”

“Harry!” Angela calls.

“Tim, did he hit the bus in Venice?” Harry asks as he approaches Angela’s desk.

“Temple,” Wade interrupts. “We just got a ransom demand from your dead terrorist. Says he rigged a city bus. Where’s Tim?”

“Where do you think?” Harry replies.

Tim ends the call and navigates around the back of the bus to drive alongside the door. Traffic is increasing with the morning rush, and he doesn’t want to risk getting stuck in another slowdown. He honks to get Sam’s attention, and gestures for him to open the door.

“Drive straight,” Tim directs him. “Stay in this lane.”

Sam agrees before Tim speeds up to get ahead of the bus. He opens the driver-side door and hits the brakes, so the bus rips the door off the car. Tim presses the accelerator again to catch up with the bus as he is yelled at by the owner of the car.

“Take the wheel!” Tim says.

Tim waits until the car’s owner moves back into the driver’s seat to jump into the open bus door and pull himself up the stairs.

When the bus rips the door off a convertible, you finally look up. The man driving the car beside the bus is attractive, but you’re a little concerned for his mental well-being. Sam seems willing to help him, and you don’t understand why. When he jumps from the car and onto the bus, you stand and grip the bar above your head. He locks eyes with you before holding up a police badge.

“Everyone, I’m Sergeant Tim Bradford, L.A.P.D. We’ve got a slight… situation on the bus,” he explains.

“Are you crazy?” you ask.

“Ma'am, if you’ll please sit down, we can deal with this in an orderly-“

“But what are you-“

“Ma’am.”

His tone and the look in his eyes convinces you, so you sit down as Tim walks toward the back of the bus and looks at the other passengers. You watch him move and wonder if he’s truly a cop or just insane.

“Just stay in your seats and remain quiet,” Tim says. “Then we’ll be able to defuse the, uh, the problem.”

A passenger you’ve spoken to before, Jay, leaps from his seat and points a gun at Tim.

“Jay!” you yell worriedly.

“Get away from me!” Jay demands.

Tim pulls his gun and matches Jay’s stance. Two women at the back of the bus scream, and you look between Tim and Jay from your seat.

“I don’t know you, I’m not here for you. Let’s not do this,” Tim says calmly.

“Stop the bus, Sam,” Jay calls.

“He can’t. Look, I’m going to put my gun away.” Tim holsters it slowly and raises his hands to show they’re empty. “I don’t care about what you did. It’s over. I’m not a cop right now. See? We’re just two guys on the bus.”

Tim tosses his badge to the floor beside your feet, and you look at it before raising your eyes to Jay again. You understand why he calmed down so quickly; Tim Bradford has a soothing voice, and his presence is assertive but caring. More importantly, you can relax now, because his badge looks real. Jay’s hands begin to lower, but your fellow passenger Ortiz jumps onto his back before Jay puts it away.

Tim rushes forward as Ortiz tries to pull the gun from Jay. A shot goes off, and everyone ducks before a second shot fires.

“Sam!” someone screams.

You turn toward the front of the bus before moving to help Sam. Tim disarms Jay with minimal effort while another woman joins your side.

“Move him,” you say.

“He’s bleeding,” the woman argues.

“We have to stop the bus!”

At your words, Tim spins quickly to face you.

“No!” he yells. “Stay above fifty.”

“Sam is wounded,” you begin.

“You slow down, and this bus will explode!”

Tim holds your eyes and nods slowly. He’s not kidding, you realize. Turning quickly, you look at the speedometer, which falls to 51. While Sam is still in the seat, you push your foot onto the gas pedal and watch the line rise above fifty.

Tim handcuffs Jay to one of the poles before he explains, “There is a bomb on this bus. If we slow down, it will blow. If anyone tries to get off, it will blow.”

The women on the bus surround Sam and help him get comfortable as they try to slow the bleeding. As they pull Sam from the driver’s seat, you slide into position and steer into another lane to keep the speed over 50.

“We’re only gonna make it through this if everyone stays calm, sits down, and listens to me,” Tim adds.

You don’t hear everything he says, with your complete focus on the road ahead and the speedometer on the dash. Your knuckles are white because of your grip on the wheel, and you don’t hear Tim approach behind you. He lays a hand on the headrest behind you and leans down.

“This is great. A bomb on wheels,” you muse sarcastically.

“Can you handle this bus, ma’am?” Tim asks.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just like driving a big Toyota, right?”

“Can you handle it?”

“I’m fine. What’s the plan? Is there a plan?”

Tim nods and stands to his full height. He watches you take a deep breath before turning to the rest of the passengers.

“Everyone, I need your cell phones,” Tim announces.

“No way, man!” the tourist yells.

“There is a terrorist out there with a bomb, and I don’t need any of you live streaming or interfering with the radio signal he could be using to detonate a bomb. So, I will only say this one more time. Phones - and anything else with a cellular connection – now.”

The passengers nod and offer all of their cellular devices. Tim accepts an empty bag from a woman beside Sam and places everyone’s belongings inside. He returns to your side and removes his phone from his pocket.

“Do you have anyone you need to call?” Tim asks softly.

“No. I- I don’t want to think like that,” you answer.

“We don’t have to. Everything’s going to be okay. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

You nod and Tim lays a kind hand on your shoulder to add, “But I need your phone.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s- uh- it’s in my back pocket. Right side.”

Tim’s hand brushes your lower back as he pulls the phone from your pocket. He apologizes, though you can’t imagine why. You’ve only known Tim Bradford for a few minutes, but his words mean something, and you can only hope he keeps the promises he’s making.

“You’re a cop, right?” you ask.

“That’s right. Metro Sergeant,” Tim says. “But you can call me Tim if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Uh, no. Thanks, and you can stop calling me ‘ma’am’ while we’re at it. I just- I should probably tell you that I’m taking the bus because my driver’s license was suspended.”

“What for?”

“Speeding.”

Tim shakes his head and hides his smile before calling the station again. He leans forward, but keeps his hand beside you, to look at the news chopper circling above the bus.

“Lopez, it’s me. I took phones from all the passengers. Where do we start?” Tim asks.

“Alright. Harry and Wade are with me,” Angela replies.

“Check the speedometer, Bradford,” Harry says. “Has it been messed with? Any wires or anything that don’t belong?”

“Sorry,” Tim whispers as he leans in front of you to check the dash area. “No, it’s clean.”

“Then it’s gotta be under the bus. Probably rigged to one of the axles.”

“I can’t get under the bus to check right now. The whole you stop, you die thing. Remember?”

Tim doesn’t sound like he’s kidding; in fact, he sounds grumpier than when he first boarded, but his comment makes you laugh. He pats the back of your seat before turning.

“Sergeant Bradford,” Sam calls weakly. Tim kneels beside him to listen, and Sam stutters, “There’s a- an access panel… in the fl-floor.”

“Hold on, Angela,” Tim says into the phone.

He unscrews the panel and pulls it aside. The asphalt moves quickly under the bus, and Tim looks around before handing his phone to a passenger. You look up in the mirror above you to watch Tim briefly before returning your attention to the road.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Stephen. I’m a tourist,” Stephen introduces.

“Welcome to the City of Angels. Hold my phone, please. Tell my partner what I see.”

Stephen nods and raises the phone to his ear as Tim moves so he can see under the bus. He takes a deep breath; Tim knows a bit about bombs from his time in the Army, but it’s Harry’s expertise.

“Okay, there’s a bundle here,” Tim yells over the wind. “Pretty big.”

“There’s a pretty big bundle,” Stephen relays.

“Brass fittings. I think I can reach the circuit wire.”

“He can reach the circuit wire- No, don’t do that, Sergeant Bradford. It can be a decoy, he says. What else?”

“Hold on,” Tim murmurs before moving further underneath the bus. He sees the extent of the bomb and pulls himself back up to take the phone. “Angela, Harry, there’s enough C4 on this bus to take out everyone on the highway. There’s a wristwatch: gold band, cheap.”

You look back at Tim quickly before inhaling sharply. “Sergeant,” you call.

“What do you think, Harry?” Tim asks.

“Bradford!” you yell into the bus speaker.

Tim moves to your side and places a hand on the dash to lean forward. His face is right beside yours, and you wish you were nervous because of him and not the bomb underneath you.

“Everybody’s stopping,” you point out. “What do I do?”

“Get on the shoulder.”

“This is an exit!”

Tim flinches as you sideswipe several cars.

“Tim!”

“Off. Get off!” Tim yells.

You nearly miss the ramp and pull the wheel to the right to merge onto another road. Honking the horn and yelling for people to get out of the way, you take a deep breath. At least you’re off the freeway. Tim tells you to keep driving as he answers his phone again.

“Where?” he asks. “Got it.”

“Do I stay here?” you inquire.

“Yes. Just straight on this, they’re trying to clear the roads for us.”

“I’m never getting my license back, am I?” you grumble.

“The police commissioner will buy you a car if you ask,” Tim says quietly. “You’re doing well, okay? Don’t worry about anything else.”

You nod and return both hands to the wheel. Tim removes the flannel shirt he’s been wearing, leaving him in a white t-shirt, and drapes it over the back of your seat. Your eyes catch on his biceps before you chide yourself for getting distracted.

One of the phones in the bag rings, and Tim yells, “Who didn’t turn their phone off?”

No one is willing to admit their fault or doesn’t want to risk dealing with Tim’s wrath and ending up like Jay where he sits on the floor. Tim digs through the bag and pulls the ringing phone out. The number is one he recognizes, but he hesitates before answering.

“Taking their phones was smart,” the bomber says as the line connects. “2525… nice passengers, aren’t they? See, that’s the beauty of being in this day and age. I know everything about everyone on that bus. So, if you or your little girlfriend, or even the tourist from Kalamazoo try to double-cross me…”

“The bus explodes,” Tim interjects. “I’m aware.”

“What’s with the attitude, Tim? You’re seeing one of the prettiest places in the world, riding a bus for free… Oh, no, I know. Can’t shoot a hostage that makes that cold heart beat again, huh?”

“What do you want?”

“You know what I want! 3.7 million dollars. I get the money, and then we can both get what we want.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

“I know what you don’t want. Tell your girlfriend to keep her eyes on the road.”

The call ends and Tim raises the cell phone in his hands. “He knows who is on this bus.”

“How?” Ortiz asks.

“Your bus passes, your phones, both, maybe. Look, one of the conditions of our survival is that no one gets off the bus. If he knows who you are, then we are even more obligated to keep that promise.”

“You didn’t even try to get us off the bus!” Jay accuses.

“Because he would have blown it. I understand what you are feeling, but I need you to trust me, trust the L.A.P.D., and work with me on this.”

“Tim is this your team?” you ask over your shoulder.

A police car pulls into the lane in front of you as several more flank the sides of the bus. The road clears around them, but more news choppers are joining the airspace above you.

Tim nods and looks at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. What happens now, though?”

“My teammates are working on it. We’ve got gas and open road, so keep driving.”

“Is it- can I be okay and really nervous at the same time?”

“I’d be more concerned if you weren’t nervous.”

“You don’t look nervous.”

“My friend Angela says I never look anything; thinks I can’t show emotion because I can’t feel them.”

“Is it true?”

Tim looks at you and lowers to squat beside you. “No, it’s not.”

“How’s Sam?”

“The driver? He’s gonna be alright. Thanks to you.”

Someone calls for Tim, and he squeezes your shoulder reassuringly as he stands. You glance at him in the mirror as he returns to the access panel. A police helicopter drops to fly above you, and you wonder what the news stations and police officers know or think about the situation. The bus begins losing speed as you steer around a curve, and when you try to speed up again, you realize something is wrong.

Back at the station, Harry and Angela work with Wade and a bomb expert to search for a way to disarm the bomb and for their suspect. Harry has a description of the bomber, but there’s only so much they can learn about the bomb without seeing it.

“Sergeant Bradford!” you cry as you press the gas again.

“What?” Tim asks with wide eyes. You were calling him Tim, and your sudden change of formality and tone concern him.

“The gas pedal’s stuck.”

“What else can go wrong?” Tim asks under his breath. “Move your foot.”

You pull your foot from the pedal and steer as Tim presses his leg against yours to slam his foot down against the pedal. It doesn’t move, and the speedometer dips closer to fifty. Tim moves his hands to cover yours on the steering wheel and moves his leg between yours to try a new angle. You’re close to him, but the fear of dying keeps you from enjoying it in any way. He pushes the pedal again and his shoulders drop.

“There,” he announces as he steps back.

You take the wheel back and press the accelerator down again. The bus gains speed and you catch up to the police car before you.

“Lopez, talk to me,” Tim greets as he answers his phone again.

“You’ve got a hard left coming up,” Angela says. “Really hard.”

“Hard left up ahead,” Tim tells you.

“We’ll tip!” you argue.

“Who is that? Your driver?” Angela inquires.

“We’re not going to tip,” Tim says.

“Yes, we are!”

The curve in the road comes into view, and Tim suddenly agrees, “We’re going to tip.”

He leaves your side to move everyone onto the right side of the bus. The weight distribution keeps the bus from tipping, but as Tim helps you pull the wheel as hard as possible to make the turn, you forget why you were concerned. His presence is the only thing keeping you calm, and you wish he could just sit beside you the whole time.

“Angela, get those news crews off our tail!” he yells over the cheers of the passengers.

You look in the mirror beside you. The news crews must have arrived recently because you didn’t notice them before.

“On it. Harry’s working with the bomb squad. Keep it fifty,” Angela responds.

“Don’t try to make that a thing, Lopez,” Tim says before he ends the call.

“Hey, who’s doing this?” you ask Tim.

“The bomber? He’s just a guy who’s angry with me for foiling his last bombing attempt,” Tim explains.

“So, he’s trying again? Using you to get whatever it is he wants?”

“More or less.”

“What if you stop him again?”

“We do this again tomorrow. Until one of us dies trying.”

“That won’t work.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m not available to drive tomorrow.”

Tim nods but doesn’t reply before a flatbed truck merges into the lane beside the door. His Metro captain and two officers are on the back, and the driver blows the horn to get his attention. Tim opens the door and moves out of the door to talk to them. You can’t hear much but suspect that they want to get the hostages off the bus, which Tim already said was impossible. Your sudden and unbending trust in him should probably concern you, but you will do anything and everything he tells you, even if that means staying on a bus with a bomb on it.

“He called the station looking for you,” an officer announces.

“Why? He has my cell,” Tim says.

“Maybe it died.”

“Just give him my number again! And keep looking; find this guy so we can move these people.”

Tim steps onto the main platform again and closes the door.

“Are they going to help us?” the woman holding Sam’s head up asks.

“Sure, they will. They’re the police,” someone jokes.

Another phone rings in the bag, and Tim pulls your phone out this time. He hadn’t thought to turn yours off because he was concerned about you and wanted to make sure you could drive like the bus needed to be driven.

“Hello?” he answers.

“Tim, you know I trust you. But it looks to me like you’re trying to move passengers off the bus,” the bomber says.

“I need one as an act of faith,” Tim argues. “The driver has been shot.”

“You shot another hostage?”

“He’s dying! If you want your money, show a little charity.”

The line is quiet for a moment before the bomber says, “Fine. You can try to get the driver off. I have more people to kill. Tell your girlfriend behind the wheel not to slow down or he won’t get a chance to bleed out.”

“We’re getting the driver off,” Tim announces after returning your phone to the bag. “Just him for now.”

Ortiz moves out of the seat to help Tim move Sam to the door and onto the truck.

“Get as close as you can,” Tim says. “A little closer.”

The side of the bus hits the truck and swerves, and you rush to apologize.

“It’s okay.” Tim says your name, and you know that he means what he says. “Perfect! Hold it steady!”

You sigh as Tim walks past you again after getting Sam to safety, but then you see a woman walking toward the door. The officers on the truck reach out to help her, unaware of what will happen if she steps off the bus.

“No!” you yell.

“I have to,” she responds.

“No! Don’t get off! Stop!”

An explosion echoes through the bus as the steps fall out and go underneath the bus. The female passenger disappears after she falls with the debris, and you look away quickly as Tim falls forward trying to catch her.

“You’ve got to get those choppers out of here!” Tim yells to his captain. “He’s watching!”

The bus is silent as Tim stands up and waits beside you. With your eyes on the road, he doesn’t see the tear that leaks out. When the passengers start arguing behind you, your grip on the wheel tightens.

“Hey!” Tim calls as he turns to face them. They silence, and he moves his attention to you. “How are you doing?”

Tim steps forward, sees the tears covering your face, and squats with an arm behind you. “What can I do?”

His voice is softer than when he yelled at the men behind you, and you can’t lie to him.

“I thought that was the bomb. When I heard it… I thought everything was over. But then I saw her fall under the bus, and-“

“You’re glad you’re still alive,” Tim finishes.

“I’m so sorry. Does that make me a terrible person?”

“No. It doesn’t mean you don’t care. We’re still alive, and we’re all allowed to be thankful for that. The guy who put us here? He’s a terrible person. Don’t think that you’re a bad person. You’re not.”

“Tim,” you say before pointing to his Captain, who is waving for his attention.

“There’s a gap in the freeway. It’s big. We have to get these people off, Tim,” he says.

“You know I can’t, Captain.”

“Tim?” you ask as he walks past you. “What’d he say?”

“There’s a gap in the road,” Tim tells everyone.

“How big is a gap?” Ortiz asks.

“50 feet, a couple of miles ahead,” Tim says.

“Tim?” you repeat. “What if I shift down and just keep the engine revving?”

“He thought of that… Floor it.”

“What?”

“There’s an interchange, maybe there’s an incline. Just floor it.”

“Okay.”

“Everyone keep your heads down.”

The police car leading you falls off the side, but you continue driving toward the unfinished overpass. The needle on the speedometer nears 70, and Tim waits beside you. As you approach the end, Tim yells for everyone to hold on. He puts his arms around you and pulls your head down with his. You feel weightless for a moment, grounded only by his arms around you before the bus collides with the other side of the interchange. Looking up over Tim’s arm, you see more road ahead and press the gas again, so you don’t slow down.

Your forehead begins to burn and hurt, and you press your palm against your temple as the people behind you cheer. Tim checks on everyone before returning to your side, and he immediately realizes that you’re in pain. He moves your hand and presses the bottom of his shirt to your head. It’s stained with blood when he pulls his hand away, and you grimace at the idea of a wound on your head.

“Get off here!” Tim calls suddenly.

“Yes! Get off!”

You obey and soon enter the Los Angeles International Airport. Tim gives you directions to an emergency runway and explains that you can simply drive here. Without traffic or road closures, the only concern is staying above fifty.

Being in restricted air space is also a bonus, and you notice that the news helicopters are hovering at a distance. Tim seemed concerned about the presence of news cameras, so maybe the location will also keep the bomber from knowing exactly what is happening.

“Yeah?” Tim asks as he answers his phone.

“The airport. Well done. You had some close calls, but you did well, Tim,” the bomber says.

“What do you want?”

“My money. Help me get it before it’s too late, will you? The negotiators think I’m doing this for fun?”

“Are you not?”

“Oh, now you think you know me too?”

“I know you want money you didn’t earn. More than you deserve.”

“I did earn it! I got a medal, too, you know.”

“Let me off. If you want my help, I need to explain that you’re not bluffing. Just me.”

“Alright. But you have to come back. I can see everything; remember that.”

Tim ends the call and slides his phone back in his pocket.

“There’s a plan now?” you ask.

“Maybe. He’s letting me off,” Tim says.

“Hey, don’t forget about us,” you call as he steps off the bus and onto an SUV. “He’ll be back,” you promise the others.

While you circle the airport runways, Tim works with the other officers he told you about to find a way to disarm the bomb. Ortiz walks to your side and looks out at the airport.

“Ortiz?” you ask.

“He’s not coming back, I’m telling you,” he says.

“He didn’t have to get on in the first place. Hey, get behind the yellow line.”

Ortiz looks down and takes on short step back. “You let the cop up here.”

“What is that?” Stephen asks as he joins Ortiz.

“I have no idea,” you answer as you look at Tim standing on the back of a truck covered in machinery. It pulls over in front of you, and Tim lowers onto a cart attached to a winch, and you mutter, “I was right. He is insane.”

“How’d they get that so fast?” Stephen asks under his breath.

You focus more on driving in a straight line as Tim disappears under the front of the bus. He looks up at you just before he disappears, and you nod once. Knowing that he’s under the bus makes you more nervous to drive than you have been at any other point today. Driving in a straight line at the airport is more stressful because Tim is underneath a moving vehicle and touching a bomb. You know he has friends and colleagues who are helping him, but you feel more than a need to survive when you look at Sergeant Tim Bradford.

The winch on the truck releases suddenly, and the cable unfurls.

“Check and see if he came out the back!” you demand. “Can you see him?”

“He’s not back here!” Ortiz calls.

“Look under the bus! Back by the tires!”

“I don’t see him.”

The winch cable snaps and the back tire bounces over something. You press a hand over your mouth in shock, and Ortiz runs to the back access panel.

“Please tell me he’s alright!” you yell. “Do you see him?”

“I see him!” Ortiz responds. “He’s alright!”

You look back and forth between the empty runway and the back of the bus. Ortiz and Stephen pull Tim up onto the bus, and you can’t decide whether to be angry or relieved with him. Tim thanks Ortiz before walking to your side.

“How are you?” he asks.

“You scared me!” you accuse. You slap his vest to express your displeasure before hissing in pain. “What’s that smell?”

“Gas. We have a new leak.” “You caused a leak?”

“It was that or get run over. You can see the difficulty I had choosing.”

“Don’t try to be funny right now. I thought I killed you.”

“I’ll ask my captain to get a fuel truck.”

“Will it work?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re not exactly comforting, you know that?”

“You just hit me and now you want comfort?”

You sigh and look at him again before saying, “Thank you, Tim.”

“Just doing my job… ma’am.”

Tim stays beside you while Harry and a S.W.A.T. team infiltrate the house listed on the bomber’s records. He was surprised by how quickly they found his identification, but now that they have the element of surprise, he hopes that this game is almost over.

 When he gets another call, you can only see the anger in his eyes as he listens to the person on the other end. The bomber tells Tim that Harry and the S.W.A.T. team walked right into his trap. You watch him and can only wonder what is making him so mad. His life is in danger, but something is capable of pushing him even further, it seems.

“I’m going to rip your spine out. If you know as much as you think you do, you know I can,” Tim threatens lowly.

“Oh, I do, Reaper. That’s why you should do what you’re told. You and I both know you can’t do it without Harry and his ability to follow a cheap watch, anyway. Get me my money and it’s over. Otherwise, you, lumberjack-ie, and the others are dead. Got that?”

“Yeah,” Tim says after a moment. “Howie.”

The bomber hesitates at the mention of his real name but doesn’t let it stop him. Tim listens to Howard Payne’s demands before ending the call. Tim turns around and kicks where the stairs used to be before pulling against the handrail in his anger. You try to get his attention over his yelling, but it falls on deaf ears.

“Tim! Please!” you try again. “I can’t do this without you. Please.”

Tim slows his movements before gripping the rail beside you. His jaw is clenched as he looks at you, but your pleas soften his eyes.

“Please stay with me,” you whisper.

“We’re going to die,” he says.

“No. You got us this far, right?”

Tim leans against the dash beside you and looks at you. His shirt is still behind you. Lumberjack-ie. Your little girlfriend.

“Lumberjacks wear flannel, right?” Tim asks.

“Uh, yeah. As far as I know,” you answer. “Why?”

“He can see you.”

“What?”

“Keep looking straight ahead.”

You turn your face to the windshield and watch the runway as Tim examines the top of the bus. He sees the camera at the top of the windshield and shakes his head.

“He said, ‘your girlfriend behind the wheel’ and ‘lumberjack-ie’. I didn’t even realize. There’s a camera in your face. He can see the whole bus.”

“He can see me, but can he hear me?” you ask.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Bus cameras can’t be very high-tech, Tim. Can’t your people get it on a loop or something?”

“You’re brilliant,” Tim murmurs before pushing himself off the dash and to his feet. “Guys, there’s a camera over my left shoulder. I need everyone to sit still. No big movements, no talking, just look concerned and sit still.”

He calls his captain and asks for someone to approach the news trucks at the fence to end the live broadcasts and use their equipment to make a video loop. His captain agrees and texts Tim with an update that the reporters are cooperating.

“Remember, stay relatively still. Just look scared,” Tim reminds everyone.

“That won’t be hard,” Ortiz grumbles.

Tim leans beside you while the video is being recorded. You drive in silence for a minute before noticing the blinking red light on the dash.

“Tim,” you whisper. “Look.”

“Cap, roll the tape. We need fuel,” Tim says into his phone.

“We only have a minute recorded. That won’t convince him, we need more footage” Wade argues.

“No time. Get these people off before this bus runs out of gas.”

“Fuel tanker is running behind. Driver said big rigs need radio signals, and they’re still jammed. Crazy not stupid, right?”

“Right.”

“Now what?” you ask Tim. “Are you tired of that question yet?”

“I’d like an answer to it,” he replies. “Get alongside this bus, okay?”

You nod and drive steadily alongside an LAX passenger bus. Tim’s team lays a wooden board between the bus doors and helps people cross to safety. You listen to Tim encourage the passengers across and are glad he was the cop who got on the bus today. The rear tire blows out suddenly, and you pull the steering wheel back to the middle and yell for Tim to come help.

Tim falls on his way back to the front of the bus, but when he reaches you, he moves his arms across you to pull the wheel.

“Use this to hold down the gas pedal,” he says.

You take the device from his hand and lower it into place. Tim steps back to tie the steering wheel to the floor of the bus, and you steer to keep the bus straight while he works. The moment it’s secure, he pulls you to your feet and tells you to get on the metal access panel.

“I can’t do this,” you argue.

Tim raises his hands to either side of your neck and brushes his thumbs along your skin as he promises, “Yes, you can. I’m right here with you.”

You swallow nervously and nod before sitting on your escape route, a thin piece of metal that Tim moved with no problem. Tim moves to lay over you, and he wraps an arm around your waist as you hide your face against his shoulder.

“I got you,” he promises once more.

The bus turns and the access panel cover falls out of the bottom. You clutch Tim tightly as the metal door slides across the runway and into a nearby patch of dirt. He sits up and watches the bus slow as it nears a plane but doesn’t let go of you. Just before the bomb detonates, Tim pulls you down again and lays over you to protect you from any debris. Sirens echo in the distance, and you wrap your arms around Tim’s back.

“Are you alright?” he asks again.

“No,” you answer, your first honest answer of the day. “Oh, I hate the airport.”

Tim moves to your side but keeps an arm around your shoulder as he looks into your eyes.

“You can’t get mushy on me. You can’t show emotion, remember?” you tease.

“I think I might be able to after all.”

“Relationships that start like this never last. It’s just the high-stress, adrenaline pumping, all that.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, maybe we can change that.”

“Uh, I think your friends are here.”

Tim looks up but doesn’t move as Angela and Wade exit a police car and run toward him.

“I was worried about you,” Angela says. “And here you are.”

“I’m sorry about Harry,” Tim offers. “I wish we could have changed it.”

“You good?” Wade asks. “’Cause I might be a nice guy and let you take the rest of the day off.”

“And stop worrying about what we could have done differently. You saved a lot of lives today, Timothy,” Angela adds.

“A day off sounds like a good deal,” you murmur.

Tim shakes his head before introducing you to Detective Angela Lopez and Sergeant Wade Grey. When he finally stands and sees the scrapes and gashes littering your skin, he forces you to let a paramedic treat you. Tim follows you to the ambulance but hangs back to talk to Angela. He’s lost a partner before, too, and knows what it’s like.

“I’m sorry for bringing everyone into this. Howard could have just come for me,” Tim concludes.

“I appreciate everything,” Angela responds. “But, you’re going to the hospital, too. Is that Chen?”

Tim turns quickly and sees Lucy running toward the police cruiser parked behind the ambulance.

“Sergeant Grey!” she yells. “We’ve got Payne on the line, and he wants to know when he’s getting his money. Whoa, Tim, are you alright?”

“He doesn’t know,” Tim says. “He doesn’t know the bus exploded.”

“Tell him thirty minutes,” Wade alerts all the nearby officers.

“Stay in the ambulance,” Tim tells you.

“But I-“

“Ma’am, stay in the ambulance.”

You nod and climb into the ambulance after refusing help from the paramedics. They continue bandaging a cut on your leg as Tim climbs in.

“I need to make a quick stop on the way to the hospital,” he tells the driver.

“Where?” she asks.

“The drop spot. Pershing Square.”

The driver reluctantly agrees, and you watch Tim as she drives. He demands you stay in the ambulance until he returns, and you agree but don’t mean it. You’ve been beside Tim for most of the morning, and you neither remember how to be away from him nor do you want to. You stand on the sidewalk beside the ambulance and watch people move around you. It’s another normal day for them, but your life will never be the same after today.

“Miss, you can’t stand here, you need to move back,” an older officer says as he grabs your shoulders.

“Oh, I’m waiting for Tim-“

“Tim Bradford, yes. He asked that I move you out of harm’s way.”

“But he told me to stay here.”

His hold on your shoulders tightens as he says, “And I’m telling you to move.”

“Payne is late,” Angela complains.

“He’s not late,” Tim says. “He’s never late.”

“Two hundred cops are watching that sculpture, plus a tracker in the bag. He hasn’t been here,” Wade explains.

“Turn on the tracker,” Tim requests.

“What for?”

“Just do it!”

Wade presses a button on the laptop before him, and the blinking light of the tracker travels across the screen.

“He’s got the money,” Angela says.

Tim runs out of their hiding spot and to the drop spot. He pushes the art installation over and kicks it when he sees the opening in the sidewalk beneath it. As he drops into the defunct subway system, he sees someone walking farther into the tunnel and pulls his gun.

“L.A.P.D. Freeze!” he yells.

The person stops, and he aims at their head before saying, “Pop quiz. Someone has a clear shot at your head. What do you do?... Turn around.”

“If you don’t do it, I’ll kill Tim Bradford,” Howard Payne threatens as he secures a vest covered in dynamite around your chest. “What are you going to do?”

“Wait- wait for him to come in and walk away. Then I listen to you,” you answer shakily.

“Perfect. Maybe you two can have your happily ever after all. You say one word that I don’t like and you’re both dead.”

Howard disappears down the subway, and you bite your bottom lip to refrain from crying or screaming for help. Tim may shoot you, no questions asked, but at least he will be safe. When you hear something crash above you and sunlight infiltrates the dark staircase before you, you take a deep breath and begin walking away.

Tim’s voice doesn’t carry the same comforting words or soothing lilt as in the bus, but you still recognize it and want to hear it as he yells at you.

“Turn around!” he demands.

You turn slowly and can see the moment Tim realizes he’s pointing his gun at you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

The apology echoes off the concrete walls as Tim lowers his weapon. You don’t see or hear him, but you can feel the change when Howard appears behind you.

“Be prepared!” Howard says as he walks up the stairs behind you and raises the detonator, a deadman’s switch. “What are you gonna do, Tim? I don’t think you can shoot this hostage.”

“Let her go,” Tim demands as he points his gun at Howard.

“I don’t think I’m going to do that. Move the money,” he tells you.

You transfer the money from the L.A.P.D. bags and into Howard’s duffel bag as Tim yells at him to let you go.

“You don’t need her!” Tim adds.

“I will let go,” Howard threatens as he moves the detonator switch. “You don’t get it, Tim. Do you know what a bomb that doesn’t explode is? It’s the cheap, gold watch they gave me after I lost a finger and a life to my country.”

“You’re crazy.”

You push yourself against the wall as you listen to their exchange, but you keep your eyes on Tim rather than the bomb just below your chin. Howard demands you take his money and enter another part of the tunnel system and you know that you’re going to obey because he’ll kill Tim if you don’t. You tear your eyes from Tim and walk exactly where Howard leads you.

As you enter a crowded stop, Howard fires several shots into the concrete ceiling as you drop your head and cover your ears. The subway passengers waiting for the next train flee in terror as you try to get away from Howard. Tim can’t be far behind, but when you’re pushed into a subway car, you’re tempted to think that no help is coming. Howard handcuffs your hands around a pole before the subway lurches into motion.

At the back of the subway, Tim struggles to pry a set of doors open before he falls into the car. He moves strategically through the empty rows of seats with his mind on you and ending this game with Howard Payne once and for all.

The subway conductor reaches for his radio, and Howard forces the deadman switch into your hands and tells you to hold it. He turns his back on you and kills the conductor as you struggle to move away.

“Look, you won. You beat Tim, you beat everybody, you can just throw me off the train. I don’t care,” you plead.

“You see this stick? When you explode, the police will come there. But that’s not where I’ll be, so I get more time. I promise it won’t hurt,” Howard replies as he pulls the detonator away from you.

A series of dull thuds echoes, and Howard looks up quickly. He smiles, and it makes your stomach flip.

“Hey, Tim. Is that you?” he asks. “He’s so persistent. Wouldn’t be able to interest you in a bribe, would I, hotshot?”

Howard kneels and opens the duffel bag full of cash. You watch as a dye pack explodes in his face and paints his money purple. In his anger, he fires bullets into the roof, and you drop to the floor as Tim rolls out of the line of fire. Howard runs through a door, and you can only listen as he climbs onto the roof and begins struggling against Tim.

Howard has the deadman stick in his hand and can kill you by moving a centimeter to the left or right, but you’re more worried about Tim with every noise against the roof. You stay low on the pole you’re cuffed to, twisting your wrists and manipulating your fingers as you try to slip free. The struggle above you silences suddenly, and you watch the door nervously.

“Tim!” you call when he rushes in. “Tim. Where’s Payne?”

“Uh, he lost his head. Turn around,” Tim says.

You circle the pole, and Tim rips a wire free before loosening the straps of the vest.

“Let’s take this off,” he says before pulling the vest away from your chest.

“Tim, can you hear me?” someone asks through the driver’s radio. “This is Wade. Listen, the track isn’t finished.”

“What else can go wrong?” you murmur.

“Wade, I copy,” Tim radios.

“Do you copy? Try the emergency brake.”

“I copy!” Tim tries again before throwing the radio down.

He steps to the right and hits the emergency brake. After the train doesn’t even slow, he begins hitting other buttons, but nothing happens.

“None of this works!” he exclaims as he hits the control board.

He turns away from the useless machinery and returns to you. When he notices the handcuffs holding you in place, he slows.

“You can uncuff me and we can get off,” you say with an exaggerated nod.

“I don’t have a key,” Tim replies.

“You don’t have…”

You trail off and look at the handcuffs. If only you could slip your hands through them, you think. Tim begins pulling and kicking the pole as you try again to pull your hands through the metal cuffs. He pauses and lays a hand against your arm to look at how tight the cuffs are.

“Help me pull,” you grunt as you lean your weight back against the restraints.

“No, no,” Tim says quickly as he pulls you forward. “You’re just hurting yourself.”

You stand still and see a bead of blood running down your fingers. As you stare at it, Tim walks to a map on the wall. He remembers the nightmare again; a series of bad memories that end with him, “the Reaper,” standing alone in the desert before being rescued and awarded a medal. As he searches for a way to save you, Tim decides that he will never shoot the hostage again, and he won’t leave you behind, even if that means dying with you.

“Tim, please just go,” you beg.

“There’s a curve ahead. I can make it jump the track.”

“Tim! Sergeant Bradford!” Tim turns to you, and you repeat, “Get off this train. You can still jump. Tim, please. Please.”

Tim ignores you as he returns to the controls and increases the train’s speed. You slide your hands down the pole as you sit on the floor, and Tim walks silently to your side. He leans in beside you, and you raise your arms to wrap around his neck as you lean your head against his. He moves his arms around the pole to circle you and holds you tight as the train picks up speed.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper just before the lights go out.

The train car hits something and spins, but Tim tightens his arms around you. With every bump and move of the subway, you become more convinced that you’ll never get out of this position. Light enters the windows as you crash through something, and the car flips onto its side as it lands on asphalt. The impact loosens the pole, and you fall onto Tim, whose grip on you doesn’t waver for a second. As the car slides to a stop, you squeeze Tim and take a deep breath.

“You didn’t leave me,” you say before forcing yourself to open your eyes.

Tim cradles the back of your head before moving his hands to your back. You lean up gently and look into his eyes again.

“I told you to leave me!”

“I didn’t have anywhere to be just then. Rest of the day off and all,” Tim responds before pulling you down against him.

He kisses you, and you’re surprised that it is more than adrenaline. The kiss is more than a relief to be alive, and you want to feel Tim Bradford at your side every day for the rest of your life (which would have ended today if not for him). You move your hands to Tim’s short hair as you return his kiss. It’s relief, joy, love, and passion in a single touch. When Tim begins breathing heavily against you, you move up.

“I’ve heard relationships that start during intense situations like this never work,” Tim says.

“Oh,” you sigh. “Then I guess we’ll be the first.”

“Whatever you say, ma’am.”

Glass rains down on you as you kiss Tim again, and though your day went nothing like you thought it would, it’s now the best day of your life. Tim helps you stand as his team approaches the scene, and you stop him before you exit the car.

“You know if this was a movie, they’d make another one where the same thing happens again, right?” you say softly.

“We’re never taking public transportation again,” Tim states.

“Yeah. Hey, where is the truck you were driving this morning?”

Tim hesitates and tightens his arm around your waist before turning away to yell, “Chen! I need you to do something for me.”

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