#the world catches fire and you know it's not okay actually. it's never been okay and nothing has ever been more important than having your

[talkdutchtome]

"Let me take care of you" - Max Verstappen

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )

genre . . . smut )

summary . . . after a disastrous race, you take care of max the best way you know how )

warning . . . smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple play, use of petnames, sub!max, very soft dom!reader, traumatized maxie, not proofread )

word count . . . 2800 words )

a/n . . . this actually ended up a lot more emotional than i intended it to be but i hope everyone likes it anyway. i don't know if my smut writing is getting better or worse tbh. any and all feedback is always appricated <3 )

Max was a perfectionist; anyone could see that. He also had a desire to win like nobody else. He never let up. It didn’t matter to him if it was a title deciding race or a completely meaningless one, he needed to win. It had been instilled in him for as long as he could remember; second place is first loser after all. So naturally, when his brakes failed, and his car very literally caught fire in the Australian Grand Prix causing him to have to retire three laps into the race; you knew he was not going to take it well.  

You were watching along in the garage, and the only thing you could think about as his smoking car pulled up to the pits was how hard on himself he was going to be. The fact that it was through no fault of his own was irrelevant. He had just handed a win to Ferrari, and that made his blood boil.  

In typical Max fashion, you barely saw him after he retired too. He gave you a quick hug as he reached the garage but after that it was straight back to business. He made his way to the pit wall and immediately began discussing with Christian and GP what exactly happened and how do they fix it for Japan. He sent you a text that he was going to stay late at the track with the mechanics so that you should just head back to the hotel.  

Truthfully, Max was avoiding you. You had only been dating Max for a couple of months, and so far you had only seen him dominate on track. And whilst you were concerned that that he would be beating himself up for disappointing himself or the team, he was busy focusing on how he had disappointed you. You had taken time out of your busy university schedule to travel to the other side of the world to see him race, and he had to retire three laps in. He was used to people living through him, taking his wins as theirs. He had never considered that all you cared about that he was safe and didn’t get hurt.  

So, you went to the hotel and waited for him; or at least you tried to. Tiredness and jet lag eventually started to catch up to you, and you had just started to drift off to sleep when you heard the door open. Looking up greet Max, you could see immediately how heavy the weight he bore on his shoulders hung.  

“Hey baby, how are you feeling?” You asked him sleep in your voice still evident. Max just hung his head and walked into the bathroom. He half expected you to berate him. To question him on exactly what went wrong and what he’s going to do to fix it.  

“Maxie?” You asked again, as he came in from the bathroom and made his way to his side of the bed, his eyes routed to the floor. This time he just grunted at you in response before getting into bed and turning away from you. He did not have the energy to be told everything he did wrong and why - he had already had that from his dad.  

“Please talk to me Maxie, I’m worried.” You pleaded at him, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around him. You wanted that more than anything, but you sensed that he maybe didn’t feel the same.  

“What do you want Y/N?” He finally spoke, his voice cracking.  

“Are you okay? I know that was tough result to take but it’s only once race. We both know you’ll be back better than ever for the next one.”  

To your words, Max just grunted again. And this time you couldn’t help but reach over to hold him. Wrapping one of your arms around his waist and the other coming up to brush through his hair. You waited cautiously for him to pull away. A moment passed and he began to move, your heart sank; he clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near you right now. But instead of moving away, he just turned around, bringing himself closer to you, resting his head on your chest.  

“I just hate to let the team down” he spoke, his voice no more than a whisper, like he wasn’t 100% convinced if he should be saying anything.  

“But baby you didn’t let them down, you did nothing wrong. There was an issue with the car that isn’t your fault.” You gazed down at his face, your hands smoothing through his hair.  

“I could have done something. Maybe I pushed the brakes too much. Maybe I went too hard. All I know is that I let the team down. I let my dad down. I let you down. You cam-“ He started to ramble, but you had heard enough.   

“Whoa Max baby slow down. I can’t speak for the team or your dad, but you certainly did not let me down. All that matters to me is that you didn’t get hurt. I was so worried; you were literally driving a car that was on fire. You could have been hurt.”  

As the words left your mouth, he looked up at you. Almost as if he was trying to see if you were telling the truth. When his eyes met yours and he realized you were being sincere, he hugged tighter into you.  

“I love you Y/N” he spoke and before you could say anything, you felt him bring his mouth to your neck. Leaving hot open-mouthed kisses from your collarbone up to until he met your mouth. His lips crashed against yours. The kiss was hungry and desperate. His hands found your hair and his teeth nipped at your lips. He quickly found himself getting lost in you and you weren’t too far behind. But when his hands wandered towards the bottom of your pajama top, you had to pull away.  

“Wait, Maxie. Are you sure you want to do this? You’ve had a rough day, are you sure you want to do this. We could just go to sleep if you’d prefer.” You didn’t want him to feel like this was something he needed to do.  

But when his lips once again found your neck, it was clear you had your answer. “Please” he mumbled against your skin “I just want to forget” between each word he left a kiss on your neck, before beginning to nibble against that one spot on your neck that he knew always sent you completely insane. He left deep purple marks all down your neck and you couldn’t help but let a moan slip through your lips.  

You were about to completely cave into his touch before you had an idea, and before you could overthink whether it was a good idea, you swung your legs over him until you had him pinned underneath you, your legs either side of his. A smirk plastered across your face 

Max looked completely taken aback at your action, but the second you leant down to kiss him, your lips just slightly brushing against his; he was starstruck and could feel himself growing harder by the second, which only deepened your smirk.  

“Let me take care of you baby” you whispered in his ear before beginning to grind your core against him. The whimper that left Max’s lips took you both by surprise but, taking that as confirmation that he wanted you to take control; you attached your lips to his neck, trailing kisses down his chest until you reached the waistband of his underwear. It was clear from the way that his hard dick strained against the cloth that Max was enjoying this new side of you, and you could be lying if you said it didn’t give you a bit of a confidence boost. 

You started to tease him, placing warm kisses over his underwear, but when you hear him try and fail to beg you to touch him, it becomes clear that maybe today isn’t the day to tease him. So, you hook your fingers around his waistband and release him from the tight confines of the cloth. Immediately, your mouth found his cock, your lips wrapping around his tip. Max’s moans filled the air as he came apart like putty in your hands. The way that your tongue swirled around him made him go crazy. He reached out his hands to grab your hair in a makeshift pony, but you dodged him. Max honestly thought he was going to cry when you took your mouth off him. 

“No baby, I told you I was going to take care of you, you just sit back and let me do everything” you told him before quickly placing a kiss on his lips before reattaching your mouth to Max’s throbbing dick and bringing your hand to the part of it that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Max felt lightheaded; it’s not like you hadn’t given him a blowjob before, but never like this. He couldn’t ever remember being this turned on before. He had never even considered letting you take control, letting you take care of him so intently before; but now that he was experiencing it – he kicked himself for waiting so long. 

The sounds coming from your boyfriend were music to your ears and only encouraged you to make him feel better and better. You could feel yourself getting wetter, completely desperate to feel him inside of you; but today was about Max, you’d happily wait longer for your own pleasure to take care of him. You began taking him deeper and deeper into your throat, earning more moans from Max. You had never heard him be so vocal before. Things got even better for him when you hallowed your cheeks and brought your hand up to his balls, massaging them in your hands as you worked his dick in your mouth.   When his tip hit the very back of your throat and you gagged around him, he was so loud you were just slightly concerned that whoever was in the room next door would be up for a rude awakening.  

“Oh, fuck baby, oh my god. I’m so close” Max just about managed to get out between moans, promoting you to once again let go of his dick. For a second Max looked at you with puppy dog eyes, silently begging you to take him back in your mouth. But as soon as you stood up and very slowly pulled your pajama shorts down, he realized that there were better things to come.  

“Do you want me to ride you, Maxie?” you asked him breathlessly earning another groan from the man lying on the bed. 

“Fuck, yes. Please please ride me I need to be inside of you more than anything” Max’s voice was weak; it was becoming all too much for him. And when you finally rid yourself of your pajama top, Max started to see stars. Your tits were his weakness, and you knew that all too well. All he wanted was to take them in his mouth, to suck and bite on your nipples. So, when you straddled him once again, that's exactly what he did. You thought about stopping him again, reminding him that tonight was about him and his pleasure; but when you caught sight of his eyes – usually so bright and sparkling. Now they were so dark, so filled with lust and desperation, you didn’t have the heart to deprive him of one of his favorite things to do.  

You leant down to kiss him again, and the taste of his own precum on your tongue made him groan feverishly against your lips. Unable to wait anymore, you finally lowered yourself onto his dick. Now it was your turn to let out a string of moans and profanity. The way that he stretched you out was a feeling that you could never grow old of. After a beat to get used to having him inside of you, you began to bounce on top of him, pumping his dick in and out of your tight desperate pussy.  

“Oh my god Maxie you feel so good, your huge dick sends me so crazy” You moan out, completely cock drunk. “You fuck me so good, god nobody makes me feel like you can” Your praise made Max moan louder than ever and then he simply couldn’t help himself anymore; he brought his hands up to your hips and began thrusting hard into you. You wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him to let you take care of him – but when he rammed his cock into g-spot you physically couldn’t ask him to stop doing something that felt so good.  

“I love you so much Y/N baby” Max croaked out, bringing his mouth back to your tits and his hand down to your clit. Him touching you for the first time tonight meant it was now time for you to see stars. His expert hands rubbing against your clit brought you closer and closer to release and you could tell from the way that Max’s thrusts became deeper and harder that he wasn’t far behind you. 

Wanting to finish what you had started; you placed your hands on his chest – signaling him to stop for a second. Max did so very reluctantly, but when you started to bounce on his dick again his eyes rolled back into his head. After each bounce you grinded yourself down on him, desperate to get him as deep as you possibly could. Your climax was getting closer and closer and soon you felt like you were ready to burst. 

“I’m going to cum on your dick okay baby? You just make me feel so good I can’t help myself.” you told the man beneath you breathlessly, prompting Max to resume rubbing circles into your clit. 

“Please do. Please cum all over my cock I need that so much” Max croaked out and with that you fell over the edge. A wave of pleasure washed over you and you screamed out for Max. It felt so good you thought you were going to pass out, completely taken over by the pleasure that Max’s hard dick had given you. For a few moments, you simply had to still yourself to let yourself recover. 

Once you had ridden out the last of your orgasm, you were ready to go again; ready to make Max feel as good as you possibly could. You began grinding down onto him, squeezing yourself against him. After feeling you cumming all over him, Max knew he wouldn’t need long before he was right behind you.  

“Fuck Y/N I’m really close, get off and I’ll finish in your mouth” Max just about got out between moans. When you didn’t get off and instead began bouncing faster and harder, Max really thought he might just die.  

“Cum inside of me Maxie please, I need your cum fucked so deep inside me”  

“Fuck really?” 

“Yeah, i need it so bad.” 

“Oh my god Y/N, you’ll be the fucking death of me” 

The second those words left his mouth, he fell apart. A string of profanity left his lips, and you could feel his dick pulse inside of you as he painted the insides of you white with his cum. Max couldn’t believe how good it felt, sex with you was always great but that was on another level, he couldn’t remember ever feeling that good before. 

“I love you so much Y/N” 

He gently slipped himself out of you and you collapsed next to him on the bed. Exhausted wasn’t the word for how tired you felt after that. And apparently that was true for Max as well as in the time that it took you to waddle to the toilet to clean yourself up, he had managed to fall asleep. You couldn’t blame him of course; even before that it had been a very long tiering day for him. So, as quietly as you could, you got ready for bed and slipped yourself into bed next to him.  

Looking at the very peaceful sleeping man next to you, you couldn’t help but snuggle down close to him. Placing a kiss on his temple before assuming the big spoon position that you know he loves so much from you. Your movement causing him to ever so slightly stir awake. 

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me” he spoke so softly you almost missed it before falling right back into a very peaceful sleep. You couldn’t help but feel so lucky to have a man like him cuddled close to you. 

“Sleep well Maxie, I love you more than anything.” 

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x y/n #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x oc #f1 smut #formula one smut #formula 1 smut

[bouncybongfairy]

Hiii, could you please do a live action jet x reader smut? Where the reader is a water bender and he meets her when he meets sokka and Katara, she knows hes kind of a bad person but she can't help being into him. You don't have to do exactly that, just a idea!

Rude Boy

Jett x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: Needing to take a break from travel, your group stops to rest in the Earth Kingdom village of Gaipan. After meeting Jett and the Freedom Fighters, you can't help but be charmed by his bad boy persona. He invites you out to the city for a wild night.

Word Count: 1.0k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Rough Smut.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You guys had been flying for hours and the sun was starting to go down. Anng decided that they would find somewhere to set up camp for the night. Appa was getting tired so they needed somewhere soon and Gaipan was the nearest village. Nothing seemed off at first, Katara and Sokka were arguing about the most efficient way to set up their tent. Anng made sure Appa was comfortable when Jett and the Freedom Fighters made their appearance. After they explained their disposition, they joined you around the fire. Jett was sitting right next to you, telling these lavish stories of glory and riches. Katara wasn’t impressed by his show boating and was disappointed you weren’t seeing it. After he was out of ear shot, all she could talk about was how he was a bad guy and not to be trusted. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t see the signs that he was up to no good. You just didn’t give a fuck. His dominant personality was quite charming. How he didn’t tolerate anything he was unhappy with. You loved everyone in the group and have grown to be like family. However, being happy-go lucky and optimistic all the time was emotionally taxing. As Katara used her water bending to put out the fire, Jett pulled you aside. 

“Hey I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come into town with me later tonight?” He asked. 

“Oh uh- yeah I think I would be able to sneak away,” you said, looking over to see if anyone was watching. 

“Great, I'll meet you here, in an hour or two,” he says while catching up with his group. 

You were practically snaking with excitement. For so long, you’d been surrounded with morality and sunshine. You were excited to break away from that, do something that made you feel alive. Laying on your back in the tent, waiting until you felt everyone was actually asleep. Your heart was racing, trying to avoid anything on the ground that could make noise. Jett was waiting for you where he said, resting his hands on the handles of his hook swords. He smiled once he saw you, joking about how he was starting to think you bailed. 

“No, not at all! I’m really looking forward to seeing the night life in the city,” you explained. 

“Well, I’m excited to show you.” he said, holding his hand out for you to take. 

It wasn’t long before the two of you reached the night market he was intent on visiting. It was really nice, several food stands that were making your mouth water. He pulled out a large bag of coins, and made your eyes widen a little. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw that much money in one place. Never giving you a straight answer when you asked how he acquired the money. The mysteriousness was only adding to his bravado. After walking the full length of the market, he took you to a really scenic spot. At the top of a hill, overlooking all the lights in the city. Laying on a bed of soft grass while enjoying the view. 

“So how did you really get all that money?” you asked, laying your head against his shoulder; admiring his side profile. 

“The less you know the better,” he chuckled. 

“It’s okay if it’s bad. I know the group I'm with isn’t the most open minded but the Fire Nation made the world like this. Impossible to survive so why can’t we break a few rules to withstand their wrath you know?” you explained. 

“Finally, someone that gets it,” he said, turning to face you.

Your lips were only a couple inches from his. Smelling the alcohol on his breath from a drink he’d gotten earlier that night. Everything about him was just so unacceptable, his attitude, outlook on life and his moral compass was so wrong. You were tired of trying to figure out why that was so intriguing. Shamelessly giving in to your temptations. Wanting to test the waters slowly, you brush your bottom lip against his. In return he melts his mouth into yours. Running his tongue over your lip, grabbing your face with his hands. Breathing hard out your nose, trying to get air in when you could. He rolled on top of you, pressing his pelvis into yours. Starting to kiss and nip at your neck as the two of you rock your hips together. He sits up abruptly, your lips separating with a wet pop sound. Now on his knees, he pulls out his hook swords and tosses them to the side. 

For the few seconds he was hovering over you with the blades, your skin prickles with goosebumps. He looked so powerful and menacing, it made you feel hazy. Dropping back down, his hands coming down hard on either side of your head. You flinched a little, which made him chuckle before pulling your top off. Of course, you eagerly help him remove it. Your back arched off the ground as he took one of your nipples into his mouth. Swirling and flicking his tongue while pinching and pulling at the other. Your head falling back against the grass, both mind and body fully engulfed with pleasure. Your clit was aching and feeling yourself getting wetter wasn’t helping. 

“Can I ride you?” you asked. 

“No, I wanna fuck you until you’re braindead,” he says, flipping you onto your stomach. 

Pushing your ass up and grinding against his leaking member. Spreading his pre-cum all over your skin before focusing his tip on your entrance. Teasing for a few moments before burying himself inside your heat. He started rocking his hips slowly, pulling out fully before sliding back in. Biting and sucking hickies on your shoulder. Trying his best not to animalistically pound you into the ground. Moaning every time he fully pressed his cock inside you; his head kissing your cervix every time he snapped his hips. Your head was turned to the side, perfect angle for him to shove two fingers into your mouth. Massaging your tongue and prodding down your throat. Letting out a moaning as you gagged and drooled. Wet slapping sounds came from how hard he was thrusting. Taking his hand out of your mouth and brushing the hair out of your face so he could see your expressions. Spreading your drool all over your face in the process, while making patronizing cooing noises at you. Your body went limp, barely audible uh-uh-uh’s coming out of your mouth. Seeing you turned into a fucked out pile of need was steering him closer to climax. Having no remorse and using your body for pleasure was his only goal. Pounding away at you with such force, your skin was becoming sore and reddened. Pressing his full body weight into you, pulling your hair to expose your neck and biting down as he came. Snapping his hips into you every time he shoots thick ropes of cum into your belly. Grunting and growling into your neck as he rode out his high. He got the two of you semi dressed before passing out where you two laid in the grass. Too fucked out to care about the repercussions and responsibilities that tomorrow holds.

#jett atla live action #jett x reader #jett x y/n #jet atla live action #jet atla smut #jet x y/n #jet atla #jet x reader #avatar the last airbender #netflix avatar #netflix atla #jet avatar #jet avatar smut

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Chaggie AU where Vaggie is a member of a holy order devoted to slaying monsters. As part of her becoming a holy knight, she must commune with an Angel to be granted their divine power... only something goes wrong with the ritual, and the being that appears before her is none other than the Princess of Hell.

Lute: “Gay?! She’s supposed to be HOLY!”

Adam: “Yeah, hot.”

Lute: “…let. Me. See. That. SuMMOnINg sCRiPTuRE.”

Adam: “Sure thing dude. Here.”

Lute: “This isn’t a holy rite, this is… WRITINGS OF SAPPHO!”

Adam: "Heh, heathen and homoerotic. WLWhoops?"

-

Charlie: “You should really be more careful next time!"

Vaggie: "Uh."

Charlie: "Lot’s of other demons would be thrilled to get yanked into the mortal world without a circle of binding to hold them- especially by someone as cute as you-

Vaggie: "Excuse me?"

Charlie: "And when I say thrilled, I mean in the blood and guts and screaming kinda way, NOT just in the 'can feel hellfire in my cheeks' kinda way. Safe summoning is important!!”

Vaggie: “Why’re you drawing the circle in yourself, then. With your… claws.”

Charlie: “Because you didn’t?” (dusts fire off her hands) “Anyway you should be good now, ask me anything!”

Vaggie: “You’re seriously not taking advantage of being summoned but not bound?"

Charlie: "I'm taking advantage of the view!"

Charlie: (beat)

Charlie: "Of the, mortal world, I am enjoying the pretty scenery."

Vaggie: "It's dark."

Charlie: "I'm enjoying the beautiful knight. Night. Night without a 'K'. Not knight like YOU'RE a knight, not that you aren't beautiful-"

Vaggie: "I'm. What."

Charlie: "The one who should be talking now! Not me. I think I've done enough talking for now. I think I'm good on having said stuff recently. I think I should be quiet for a bit."

Vaggie: (gay) (not immune to adorable ladies) "WHY are you here. You're not, what I expected."

Charlie: “I'm not the usual demon- As hell princess I get first dibs on all summons! After dad anyway.”

Vaggie: (of COURSE she's a princess) “Why answer this one.”

Charlie: “You’re missing an eye? It looks painful?"

Vaggie: "...so?

Charlie: "?? I thought maybe you wanted help with that.”

Vaggie: "It's a penance. You can't help with it."

Charlie: "oh."

Vaggie: “...That’s it? You're not here for anything else?”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “You um. You look very cool in that armor.” (cringes) “Awesome.” (cringes more)

Vaggie: “Are you a siren or a succubus or something.”

Charlie: “What!? No! No I’m just, I just think girls are hot! Cool! You look great!! …girls all look great, and you’re a girl, and you…”

Vaggie: “…”

Vaggie: “Do you need any demons slayed?”

Charlie: “Ahaa, no.”

Vaggie: “Holy quests completed?”

Charlie: “No?”

Vaggie: “Are you gonna eat me.”

Charlie: “N-not on the first date- I- OH YOU MEAN ACTUALLY-? No no no! I don’t, I’m, I don’t eat souls. Or people.”

Vaggie: “So what’s the catch here. The price.”

Charlie: “Nothing. I just wanted to help.”

Charlie: “Okay and maaaaybe have a nice conversation for once. Kinda short on them in hell.”

Vaggie: “… is there ANYTHING I can help you with?”

Charlie: “Well I just broke up with-”

Vaggie: “I’ll kill them.”

Charlie: “-and I could really use a date for the ball, I mean! No killing needed!! Dad isn’t going again, mom’s um, busy. And it’ll be a lot less awkward if I already have a dance partner, you know?”

Vaggie: “You want me to find you a dance partner.”

Charlie: “Oh no I, I was hoping- do YOU dance?”

Vaggie: "Me."

Charlie: "If you want to?"

Vaggie: “You’re asking me to go to hell.”

Charlie: “Shit. Right, dumb idea. It’s my home but, yeah. It’s not like anyone enjoys being here.”

Vaggie: (fuck she's cute) (fuck she's SAD)

Vaggie: “No one does? What about you?”

Charlie: “I… just wish the people would be nicer. A place is the people who live there, right?”

Vaggie: “…”

Vaggie: “I’ll come.”

Charlie: “You wha?”

Vaggie: “I’ll come to the dance.”

Charlie: "But- hell! Why-"

Vaggie: "Hell’s a better place than I thought."

Charlie: "You've never even BEEN here!"

Vaggie: "I've met you."

Charlie: ".... I'm not... the usual demon."

Vaggie: "I'll take my chances. I'll need to borrow a dress though. All I have up here is, armor."

Charlie: "I can, I can change that. A dress. N- no problem."

Vaggie: "It's a deal then." (holds out hand) "A dance for a dress?"

Charlie: (takes her hand and shakes it eagerly while bowing) "ITS A DATE!"

Vaggie: (chuckles) "Yeah, I guess that's a better word for it."

Charlie: "And I PROMISE when we dance I WON'T trample your toes with my hooves!"

Vaggie: "... should I just keep the sabatons on?"

Charlie: "I promise to find you a dress that goes good with your armored shoes so your toes don't get trampled on."

Vaggie: "We're gonna be quite the pair, aren't we."

Charlie: "Heheh~"

-

Lute: "WHAT HAPPENED WHY WAS THERE FIRE AND BRIMSTONE INSTEAD OF HOLY LIGHT WHY WERE YOU COMMUNING WITH A FIEND SO LONG IS IT DEAD DID YOU KILL IT???"

Vaggie: "Does taking her heart count?"

Adam: "Whoooo VaGEEE! Totally FUCKED that demon huh!!"

Vaggie: "Mm, not totally sir."

Vaggie: (smiling) (softly to herself) "Not on the first date."

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #lute hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel #silly girlfriend summoning au #incorrect quotes #first part taken from the emperor's new groove- please imagine lute and adam as kronk and yzma #anyway diversity win! #the holy knight and demon princess who fall in love are both queer!! #and dumb! #it will turn out great im sure

[callofdudes]

I have a cute and funny prompt idea for you about a Reader asking the boys to help to confess to someone they like a lot, they clarify it was okay if they didn’t feel the same, but wanted to let them know that that’s how they felt. The boys soon realize it was themselves the reader was talking about when they asked “What do you like about him?” . When they caught the reader in their act, the reader smiled and said “You got me~…but what I said was all true…that’s how I feel” and as promised, they were okay with whatever was decided.

Thank you for stopping by! Apologies for if taking a while.

Confessing to 141 + Vaqueros.

Alejandro:

The love guru himself. You sighed heavily from where you sat at your table in the mess hall. Several of the female recruits had mozied their way into the lunch line to catch the colonel off guard for some chitchat. And what could you blame them?

He was good looking and charismatic. Hot headed and caring. Passionate in all the right fashion.

You had been friends with Alejandro and Rodolfo for a while. And you'd liked Alejandro for a while. It was blatantly obvious and Rodolfo had pointed out before how you'd practically bend with one word from the man's mouth.

And yet Alejandro never seemed to notice you. Wanted by everyone, flirtatious with everyone, and yet he seemed to avoid you. He'd buy you the occasional item on Valentine's day or curl up next to you on the cold mission mornings. But that was nothing but friendly teasing. Rodolfo said it was because Alejandro was scared. You didn't believe him for a second. But seeing those women shamelessly throwing themselves at him made your insides burn.

"You've been staring at him an awful while." Rodolfo commented from your side where he sat down with a tray of food.

"Wouldn't you know, Parra."

The sergeant major shrugged. "I would actually. I watch from the back lines, remember?"

"Yeah yeah." You muttered.

"Go talk to him." Rodolfo said as he shoved his food in his mouth. "He's got enough on his hands." You muttered venomously when he gave that classic smile to the younger officer. She patted his sleeve and that was it.

Rodolfo chuckled as you stood from your chair and approached the four of them. Alejandro noticed you immediately as you walked over. "Colonel, we need to talk." You grabbed his bicep and dragged him out of the mess hall and into a side building.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" He turned his head and managed to ground his steps. He turned and looked at you with a worried expression. "Did something happen?"

You opened your mouth to speak and you looked into his eyes. You felt your mouth run dry when he looked at you like that. Everything inside you screamed to run and never talk to him again.

"I'm- I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that-"

Alejandro gently took your wrist and pulled you back. "No. No. You're hurting. How can I help?"

You looked down at your shoes and gulped. "I just- it's stupid."

"Nothing is stupid with you. You and Rodolfo both, you have my utmost attention beyond anything else. What do you need?"

You breathed out shakily. "I mean. They're all over you. How do you do it?" You looked back up at him and suddenly he seemed to understand. "Someone you're looking to impress?" He chuckled. "It's not Rodolfo is it-"

"What! No, no! He's like my brother! No. This guy..." You breathed out heavily. "He's more than that. I've known him for a long time and I always have tried my best to get his attention. But it's like nothing I do impresses him."

"I try making his coffee in the morning and training with him- what do I have to do to make him look at him. Really look at me."

Alejandro hummed. "Everyone is different, but being yourself should be enough."

You scoffed. "He's always so busy. He makes my heart catch on fire and every time he smiles that damn smile I feel like the world is coming down on me. Every time he gets cocky and blasts on the enemy it makes me go insane! I just want to grab him by the throat and strangle him until I can kiss his stupid fucking face-"

Your fit died down when you saw how Alejandro was now smirking. His lip was quirked up and he eyed you with a new certainty. "What? Why are you looking at me like that!?" Your cheeks burned but just the way you looked at him with utter love sick desperation made his heart clench.

"What else do you like about him?"

You opened your mouth to speak, and then you paused. He side eyes you and quirked his eyebrow up. "You want to know what I think about him? I think he's kind. He's passionate. He is so gentle and loving with his friends that you feel special every time your in his presence. He adds a level of comfort and safety that no one has ever done before. He makes you want to follow him to the end of the earth with no fucking hesitation! He's my best friend and he makes me so fucking angry that he could never be more!" You looked away and scoffed. Tears swam in your eyes and you'd cheeks burned.

Alejandro gently took your wrist and guided you back to him. "And now I've told on myself." You whispered shakily.

Alejandro pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head. "We can be more. I want to be more amor. I can talk to anyone and flirt with anyone. I can throw around pick up lines like second nature. But whenever I see you I freeze. And for the first time in a long time I don't know what to say. I'm scared to force a pick up line or drop flowers at your desk. I'm scared to comment during training or stare longer than I should." He rubbed his thumb over your cheek and pressed his lips against yours. And for the first time that day you felt every emotion vanish. You pulled on his collar before he could pull away and slammed him against the wall of the building. He groaned and pulled you closer to him.

"Damn you pretty boy." He chuckled. "Was that so hard?"

"Says you pendejo."

Price:

You sat at your desk with a mountain of paperwork in front of you. You were bored and your body was tired. You pulled up another report and sighed when you saw the same shitty document with a different set of handwriting and applicant numbers. You read over if briefly and signed your name at the bottom of the approval slip.

There was a knock on your door before it clicked open and someone came in. "How are we doing in here?"

You sighed and turned in your chair to see Price walk over with a cup of tea in his hand. "You've been in here all day, you are allowed to take a break you know." He rubbed your shoulder and placed it on your desk. "You've done a lot. Allow me to do the rest."

"Oh, no it's ok. I can finish up. It's just a little repetitive Is all."

Price nodded and urged you out of your chair. "Go get some rest, I'll finish up for you." He smiled as you got up. You felt your stomach drop.

"Are you alright? You're not looking well."

You pushed away and shrugged. "It's fine. I'm fine, I'll let you finish up if you want too." Price grabbed your arm and brought you back to his side. "Y/N , you aren't ok. Are you sick?"

"No, there is just some stuff I've been dealing with."

Price smiled. "Care to talk about it? Get it off you're chest."

You sighed. "Well. There is this guy I like, but it's been worrying me because it's not exactly appropriate and is problem violating some code if I ever told him. And it's getting so hard to be around him without bursting at the seams."

He hummed. "Is it confessing that is bothering you?"

You nodded.

"Well, why don't you practice on me?"

Your head shot up and your eyes widened. "I- no! It'd awkward. And I can't just-" he placed his hand on your shoulder and motioned with his hand for you to speak. You gulped. Your heart leaped in your chest. You felt your joints tighten and your stomach twist.

You took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. "I know this may not be what you want to hear, especially in such trying times. And it's probably scandalous in some written code, but for the sake of my heart I just need to say it." You felt every bit of you want to crumble under the loving, affirming and reassuring gaze Price gave you.

"Every time I see you my heart aches. You make me do some stupid shit all for the sake of being noticed. You carry so much weight and I feel like a burden when I realize just what I've done. But I'm so lovesick that I'd charge into battle as your meat shield just to keep you alive. Captain I don't care what happens but I can't let you go!" Tears prickled your eyes and your heart sped up.

"I just want to recieve as much praise as they do. I want to see your smile as much as they do. I want to prove that I'm capable of fighting... And loving. Even if you don't even see me like that I just-" You felt tears run down your cheeks and your hands came up to cling to his sweater. "I just need you to understand how much I love you!" You collapsed against his chest and sobbed into his gear.

Your heart was about to beat out of your chest, and then you felt his strong arms wrap around you. One hand cupped your lower back while the other massaged over your spine. You trembled but if felt so good in the moment to just tell him. To just get everything off your chest.

"Oh Y/N." His voice was softer than before. "He sounds dense."

"For shit he is. He's wonderful. Loving and kind. He offers all his resources to his team and places his teammates before himself. It's hard to make him angry, but I think he should do it more often. Anger looks good on him."

He chuckled. "Oh? Anything else?"

"He doesn't like to show it, but he's such a dork."

"Hey! Be nice."

"Got me. Seriously though, that's how I feel and I'm getting sick of hiding it." You smiled lazily against him. He squeezed your waist and tilted your chin to look at him. "Yes, it breaks code." He leaned in against your lips. You caught your breath with anticipation when your lips met briefly. "But they won't know." You hummed into the kiss and trailed yout fingers over his beard.

When you pulled away you were smiling. "Fluffy..." You whispered, practically kneading your fingers through his beard. He blushed, and leaned back in the kiss you again.

Ghost:

"Where is that- Gaz!" Ghost stopped the sergeant along the hallway. "Lieutenant, anything you need?"

"Where is Y/N? The training room was supposed to be clean and hour ago."

Gaz hummed. "Break room I think? Soap called, I assume that's why cleaning hasn't been done yet."

Ghost scoffed. "Fuckin' hell." He nodded the sergeant goodbye and started making his way for the break room. This was the third day in a row Soap had called you. He got it, you two were buddies, but you both could handle a week apart from each other while Soap was across seas. It wasn't the end of the world. Well. For him it wasn't. You started panicking if Soap didn't call you by at least 7PM.

He approached the break room with a heavy presence. He was intent on scolding the crap out of you for neglecting your duties for the fourth time until he heard you speaking.

"-monster of a man. I can't believe some so incredibly dense could be so incredibly hot." You winced and then sighed as if there was a pressure crushing your chest.

He pressed the break room door open and saw you laying on one of the couches. You and Soap were deep into a call and you were faced away from him. You lolled your head against the armrest of the couch while you spoke. He chose to remain silent as you continued to speak.

"I mean- come on. I don't know what I'm going to do Soap. I can't walk around acting all normal like this. He's fucking everywhere. It's like he's on my back all day, it's an incredible experience but sometimes I just want to grab him by the shoulder and kiss his stupid fucking mouth."

Ghost shifted. Oh, now this would be some good blackmail.

Soap started to speak but his voice was faint enough Ghost couldn't hear it.

"Soap. He was creepy at first but the way he makes you feel so utterly safe. I know! I can't tell you how much I want to hug him and let him wrap his arms around me."

"Soap!" You scolded something he said with a laugh.

"Remember that time he came back and just full on ripped his fucking shirt off. He was sweating and-"

"Sergeant."

You jumped like a cartoon character. He could see your soul leave your body before you hit the couch and scrambled desperately to shut your trap and stand up.

You threw your phone across the room and stood at attention. "L-lieutenant!"

Ghost scoffed. "And why are you in here instead of doing your duties?"

"I-I was talking to Soap, sir."

Ghost stood tall as he walked over to you. His eyes trained like a hunting dog onto your shaking form and relished in the way you bowed like a tree in the wind. "Odd conversation don't you think?"

"Yes sir."

Ghost got very close and nodded. "Mind telling me what you were wasting time on?"

"Well..."

"Correction. You will tell me what you were talking about. Now, start talking sergeant."

You cheeks burned so brightly Ghost almost felt sad for you. "I- we- Soap and I-" Your throat went dry and tears formed in your eyes when Ghost drew in close to you. "Spit. It. Out. Sergeant." He snarled.

"Iwasjusttalkingabouthowcuteoneofthelieutenantswas-" You gasped and bowed your head to keep from looking him in the eyes. Ghost scoffed. "Really sergeant?"

"Yes sir."

"The military is no place for love, sergeant."

"I know sir."

"So why don't you get it off your chest so you can go back to work?"

You looked up at him, wide-eyed. "Correction. You will tell me."

You shook violently at this point. You took a deep breath and without a clue what you were doing you blurted it out. "Ok! Ok! I was talking about you!" Ghost smirked.

"I can't hide it anymore! Please! I get it! I really do! But I've had this stupid crush on you for like four years and I've just been having a hard time because I can't process anything I do around you and I want to impress you! The only reason I train with König is so I can show off the moves I've learned!" You sobbed. "And I secretly relish when you come to save me from licking my own selfish wounds and bandage me up! You make my heart pound so fast I feel like I'm going to die. I only do interrogations with you because I think it's super hot and-"

Ghost pressed his finger to your lips. You choked in a breath and shuddered your shoulders.

"Breathe sergeant. Anything else?"

"You look really hot covered in blood."

Ghost chuckled softly. He rolled his eyes and leaned in against your ear. "I'll make a deal with you. I'll kiss those pretty lips of yours, if you DO YOUR DAMN CHORES!!"

You perked up, blush spread across your face.

"Can you do that?"

"Y-yes sir!"

He pressed the fabric of his mask to your cheek and slowly pulled away. "I want to see that gym cleaned by dinner."

He watched you rush away on shaky legs and crossed his arms. The things he did for you.

Soap:

You'd lost track of how many years you'd loved Johnny. You'd met him in recruitment and from day one you'd found him the most attractive man alive. Which was saying something. The two of you had laughed when you looked back at your cadet photos. You both had taken on trends and looks you thought were cool. Johnny had a long spiked mohawk that he was ordered to shave once you both made it into the military.

And boy did he cling to those braces he needed at one point after a fellow cadet had knocked him in the training room so hard his face was swollen for three days.

All of these memories were tossed back and forth between you and Soap. But over the years of getting to work with him and sticking close by you had nothing but utter adoration for the man. He made you the happiest you'd ever been it was ridiculous.

Johnny chuckled and pulled you from your thoughts. You realized you'd been staring into his eyes as he'd talked.

You were in utter bliss around him even as he finished his story.

"And that's why I'm scared of clowns."

You blinked slowly as you comprehended what Johnny had just told you while trying to fill in the gaps of what you'd missed. "Wow... I'm never going on the ferris wheel again."

"Yeah. I was stuck up there for an hour with that guy. You can only imagine what it was like meeting Ghost for the first time." You both laughed. "Oh boy."

Your grin widened. You grabbed another handful of chips and leaned back while Soap laid down and supported himself on his arm.

The two of you had been up all night talking. You'd slipped under Price's nose and gotten away with setting up the corner of Soap's room with blankets and a small light.

"Alright, alright." Johnny smiled up at you. "I've told you one of my secrets. Now you tell me yours."

You blushed. "I-I don't know..."

"Any little adventures you've been on?? Drama? What are you most scared of? I bet it's close too! You just won't tell me. Ok- let's try something else. Tell me something everyone knows that I don't!"

"Soap." You chuckled.

Johnny grinned. "Oh come on~ give something juicy!"

You chuckled softly. "Enough John."

He paused when he heard his name. "Oh, this is serious." He took a moment and gasped. "Don't tell me! Do you like someone~"

You blushed. "Maybe! But I'll tell you about something else-"

"Is it Gaz?"

"No, it's not Gaz."

"Hmm. Ghost? I'm not saying he's a bad pick-"

"No Soap. No."

"I don't like anyone."

You laid down and Johnny frowned at you. "I feel like you're lying? You almost sound upset- did your crush reject you???"

You scoffed. "He doesn't even know I love him."

"Is he with someone else?"

"No. Not that I can think of. Although he kind of flirts with everybody so..."

Johnny frowned. "I'm sorry. Maybe you should tell me who he is so I can set him straight~"

"Soap!" You grabbed a pillow and slammed if down against him. He cackled and grabbed you by the wrist. "Come on! I just want to know!" He strangled you against the ground but left enough room you could leave easily if you wanted.

He pulled away and gave you some breathing room again. "Is he sweet?"

You sighed. He wasn't going to leave it alone.

"He's so much better than that! He makes me so unbelievably happy. He can put a smile on every face he passes. His joy is just udderly contagious. But I feel like he could do so much better than me."

Soap hummed. His expression had turned almost sad as you talked. "He sounds pretty awesome." He muttered. "And don't say that about yourself. Anyone would be lucky to have you. Even as a friend-" he paused. "If he doesn't like you then he's at a loss. Because you're awesome."

"Thanks." You whispered.

"I can help you tell him? We can work together. I can get Gaz to set up a nice candle light dinner~"

You scoffed when he shrugged his eyebrows like an idiot.

"I just don't know how to tell him. It's been seven years and my heart aches whenever I look at him-"

"Seven years!?"

"Yes! I'm scared alright!?"

"Fairm continue."

"My smile always grow impossibly large and I feel my cheeks hurting whenever he makes me laugh. His jokes are so stupid and he's so talented. He's an artist you know."

Johnny perked up.

"He doesn't like me calling him that, even if his doodles are occasional." You sighed. "I've utterly fallen in love with him..."

It was quiet.

It felt awkward with Johnny just stared at you. Like the gears in his head were turning but he wasn't near close to reaching a conclusion.

"And it's alright if he doesn't love me back. I just need to tell him that I care for him so much." Throughout the exchange you couldn't look at him. You kept your eyes on the ceiling of your fort, unable to gauge Soap's expression.

"Anything else?" He asked after a while of silence.

"I want to kiss him so bad." You scoffed, a smile pulling at your lips.

Before you knew it Johnny rolled up and was now looking down on you. "All you had to do was ask." Before you could speak he drew closer and placed his lips against yours. His hand cupped your cheek, your free hand coming to his bicep to stabilize yourself.

It was sweet, and soft. When Johnny pulled away you were both stunned and a bit breathless.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." He whispered, gazing longingly into your eyes. "I could guess."

"Seven years... I dinnae ken ye liked me like that."

"Oh course I like you. Are you kidding? I'm surprised I haven't spilled anything considering how much I drink with you."

"I thought you were just drunk." He smirked and kissed you again. You pulled him back down and you laid there for the rest of the night with not a care in the world.

Gaz:

Price walked into the kitchen tiredly. It was still pretty early in the morning and the only two idiots who would be up at this time was himself and Ghost. But he was rather surprised when he flicked on the lights and saw you sitting at the table. A half warm cup of tea in hand and your head busied with something.

"Y/N? You alright?"

Price put on his coffee and walked over to the table where you were sitting. You had your headphones in and we're scribbling away pretty fast on some loose paper.

"Y/N?" He touched your shoulder and startled you into awareness. You quickly took out your headphones and smiled. "Morning Captain."

"Well good morning. I didn't take you for an early riser, what are you doing up?"

"Oh. Nothing..." You looked back down at your paper and Price did as well. "Letter for your parents? It is mail day today."

"No. See. I was talking with Soap yesterday about... things. And i'd mentioned how I have a crush on someone on our team. Soap said he'd shown signs of liking me too, so I'll give it a try."

"And you're writing a letter?"

"Yeah. It'd silly but I can't find the words or even gain the confidence to talk to him to his face. So I'll write it, and leave it for him to find later."

"Hmm, smart. Just remember we have briefing today so you need to eat as well."

"Yes Captain."

It was later that morning that Gaz woke up. Dizzy and tired. Even with Captain Price always on his back he felt it was never easy to get up earlier than 6:50.

He slumped into the kitchen in his sweatpants and scratched his chest lazily while he fumbled for the coffee. Price was sitting at the table looking through something when he saw Gaz. "Ah, son, just in time."

Gaz hummed and walked over as the kettle started. When he sat down, he barely noticed the sealed letter on the table with his name written on it. He blinked and picked it up. "What is this, Captain?"

"Not sure, you should probably open it."

Gaz raised an eyebrow but opened it regardless. Inside the note was very familiar writing. He recognized it instantly as your own.

Dear Gaz, I'm sorry I can't say this to your face, but I need to put it out there for you even if you don't feel the same. I've had a crush on you for a long time, and after talking with Soap it's time to confess. I love you a lot. Every mission we go on and every night we spend watching movies until curfew. I love the little moments as much as big ones and I couldn't think of a better person to spend my time around. So thank you for being by my side throughout our journey.

There was no name at the bottom, but Gaz had been stuck doing paperwork with you enough to know what your writing looked like.

He looked up at Price and smiled. "Excuse me Captain." He slid out from the table and rushed to your room. "Y/N! Y/N!" He knocked frantically on the door until he could hear you approaching. "Ok, ok."

Once you'd opened the door Kyle barged inside and warm lips met your own. You were shocked. His hands cupped your face and he put all his might into that kiss.

You were dizzy when he pulled away and looking into your eyes softly.

"I- wow." You whispered. "I guess you caught me."

"You're stupid Y/N, I'd recognize your writing anywhere. But I'm glad it was you." You kissed him again and embraced his touch.

"Anything else you like about this wonderful Gaz person?" He smirked and you pulled him into your room. "Oh you know, he's only the sweetest, kindest, most thoughtful person ever. Who else makes me coffee in the morning? Or makes sure to check on me after a mission. Who takes it upon himself to spend hours making sure that each of my wounds are tended to on the dot every day. Even if you weren't there you accompany me to debriefing when you can."

Gaz smiled. "Yeah. I do do all those things, don't I?"

"But I never imagined you'd like me back. I do all those because you're my friend. Someone I care enough for to take the blame for the stupid things you do. I love you."

Price was smirking when the two of you finally made it back to the kitchen. You seemed prouder, while Gaz was all smiles.

"I trust you kids have everything sorted out?"

"Yes Captain." You sat down at the table and looked over at him. You mouthed a thank you. And Kyle came back and placed a steaming cup of coffee on the table for you. Just like he always does.

Rodolfo:

Rodolfo always knew to weigh the consequences of drinking with you. On one hand you could be entertaining you'd even go just to be the designated driver so the others could get absolutely shit-faced. Tonight you were not interested in being responsible however.

You slumped against Alejandro as you lazily drank another shot. Your head swam and your filter was pretty much gone. You were entertaining when drunk because you would say whatever came to mind like it was totally normal. The other day when you went out you mistook Simon for a giant bar and you were addiment to somehow hang the poor soldier from the ceiling.

But now you just looked tired and lazy. You rolled your eyes as Alejandro, just as drunk slapped your hand away from taking his cup from him.

"Sssshare?"

"No, fuck off."

"Mean..."

You leaned off Alejandro and turned to Rodolfo. He was volunteering as driver after Alejandro had a hard week. Drinking away their worries wasn't the wisest way to go about things but sometimes they just needed it. So he was tried to get some water in your systems every couple of drinks.

You looked lazily into his eyes and your hand landed on his chest, fingers closing tightly around his collar. You hummed happily and leaned your face against his chest.

"Are you feeling alright Y/N? rare you ready to head home?"

You groaned loudly and moved your hand around, looking blindly for his. When he took your hand you brought it sloppily to your mouth and kissed his knuckles. "Pretty..." You mumbled.

"Oh- Y/N, what are you doing?" Rodolfo patted your shoulder as blush spread across his cheeks. What were you attempting to do.

"Rodolfo is so pretty. He's so smart and handsome-"

"That is Rodolfo you dickhead-" Alejandro interrupted.

"No! Go away!" You shoved Alejandro away from you and grinned at Rodolfo. "Don't tell him ok? It's jussst our secret. I reeeeally like Rodolfo."

Rudy blushed. He wasn't sure what to say.

"He's so soft and cute. And you think he's so weak until he shoots you in the head! Pow!" You chuckled. "Yeah, we're in the military. It'sss cool."

"He sounds wonderful..." Rudy managed.

"He's a sweetheart. You should meet him, you look a lot like him. He'd like you."

"I bet he would, he sounds very uh- open??" Rudy grasped your hands but you only took that as an invitation to get up and stand closer to him between his legs.

"Oh he's wonderful. He's so thoughtful and kind. He made up a whole rescue mission for us once because Graves was bein'.... a dick."

Rodolfo laughed softly. "Yeah? Anything else you'd like to tell this handsome Rodolfo person?"

"I just want him to know I love him" Tears suddenly formed in your eyes. "But I can't tell him. We've been friends and I don't want to wreck us. I want him to love me too- because he makes me so... So happy!!" You sobbed and collapsed into his arms.

Rudy held you and patted your back gently. "It'll be alright. I'm sure everything will go smoothly. Just tell him, it might be worth it."

You groaned and soon after you passed out.

He dragged you back to the safehouse and made sure to tuck you in tightly. He rubbed your forehead and placed a glass of water on the nightstand.

When he returned to the living room Alejandro was attempting to stand. "Come on colonel, to bed alright?" Alejandro looked up and groaned as Rudy stood him up and dragged him towards his bedroom. "I feel sick..."

Rudy chuckled. "Get some sleep, let your stomach settle down. The both of you."

He sighed when everyone was in bed and flopped down in his own quarters for some rest.

The next morning after you and Alejandro had woken up, the table was quiet. Rodolfo was busy cooking when you came in to refill your water. "Rudy?" You asked groggily.

"Yes Y/N?"

"About... Last night..."

"It's alright," Rudy left the food and gave you a comforting smile. "You don't have to be afraid. I understand." He came over and leaned in. He pressed his lips to your cheek and felt your body relax against him.

"You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad? I'm not even upset."

"What does that make us..?"

"Well, how about you sit down and eat breakfast. We can talk once you've cleared your head, alright?"

"Alright." You started walking toward the table and felt his heart flutter.

He kissed you...

I'm going to be honest, Gaz and Rodolfo are only shorter because I ran out of brain power 😅 hope you enjoy!

#simon ghost riley #alejandro vargas #call of duty headcanons #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #rodolfo parra #ghost x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro x reader #rodolfo x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #captain price x reader #captain john price #captain price x y/n #captain price

[ofsappho]

Summertime Sadness (part 2)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/very little comfort

Ten years ago: the first time you met Simon

Today: the first time Ghost meets you

Tags: mental illness, therapeutic boarding school, self harm, suicide attempt/suicidality, self harm, abuse, parental abandonment, much the same as last chapter. This fic is unedited because I don’t feel like editing it lol. If you see spelling/grammar issues, no you didn’t.

TEN YEARS AGO

Reader POV

-

It’s intake day.

Intake day happens once a week, always on Wednesday.

You don’t know why they pick Wednesday. It seems pretty arbitrary, doesn’t it?

On intake day, the nurses and counselors make all the current residents of the inpatient program line up to greet the newbies. You actually look forward to intake day. Everyone here is so boring and routine; your roommate never speaks unless spoken to and she always keeps her earbuds in. On intake day, the hope that someone nice will be admitted survives for the few hours of the intake itself.

It usually dies right after. There was one polite girl who smiled when you waved last week, but she was transferred to a different facility that night before you could learn her name.

You’ve been here for three weeks, so that���s three intake days.

You’re not sure why you’ve been here so long. It seems a little excessive; you’d think by now they’d realize your stuff isn’t so bad and maybe you could transition to outpatient appointments?

It’s a little dissociation and some minor depression. Not bad at all.

But your doctors agree, albeit gently, that you should stay for the full five month course.

The program isn’t so bad. The facility sits on a sprawling multi-acre property in the British countryside, where everything is beautiful and verdant and always chilly. It’s lovely. The tea is good. You’re getting used to how they take it here. It’s nothing like the sweet tea you drink back home.

You suppose that’s another reason why they won’t let you go home even though you’re okay; there isn’t a home to go back to. Your dad hasn’t looked you in the eye since Mom left. At least the orderlies here greet you in the morning.

(What Dad doesn’t know is that before she left, she told you she loved you and to wait for her. Soon, she’ll take you away from this place and you’ll never have to see your dad again.)

Before you head to the foyer, you check your hair in the mirror of your room’s suicide-proofed bathroom. A young teenage face stares back at you with cheeks flushed red from the sun. You trace your deep smile lines with the tip of your finger, then practice smiling. You would have feel better about moving to a therapeutic boarding school if you’d been greeted with a smile.

At first, you think the newest crop of poor souls will be uninteresting at best. Listless rich kids detoxing off Mommy’s coke, frightened preteens who’ve never been away from their parents for an extended period of time, and a few teenagers straight from an ER, IV bags and all.

And then you see him get off the bus last.

He’s tall, towering over everyone else. A lanky, almost skeletal build, with a bored, aloof expression on his face. He hides the Zippo lighter he was playing with in his sleeve before the nurses catch and confiscate it.

There’s something horrifically severe about him. He can’t be more than a couple of years older than you, but he carries himself like he’s a blade and the world is filled with monsters.

His eyes are large and dark, rich brown irises rimmed with pale blonde eyelashes. And they’re kind, even though he would probably hate having that pointed out.

You decide then and there that you’ll befriend him. He could use a friend; everyone here does. He’s beautiful in his sharpness and elegant in his abrasiveness. Maybe you can coax more of that hidden kindness out, show him that it’s worth more than his anger. You wouldn’t be able to stay away if you tried.

You both like playing with fire, though you prefer less literal ones.

-

TODAY

Ghost POV

-

Your smile fades swiftly as if it was never there to begin with.

There are two ghosts in this room. That’s what you are; a ghost of the girl he knew.

He watches and waits for you to shift uncomfortably and start blabbering to fill the silence like you used to. “Why’d you make them call me?” Ghost asks when it’s clear that you won’t.

As soon as you explain, he’s out of here. Ghost meant it when he said he never wanted to see you again.

You’re the last living reminder of the past he’s tried so hard to kill. The beeping sounds of your heart monitor spell out his mistakes in a grating, irritating rhythm.

Your answer disappoints his expectations. “I didn’t actually think you’d show.” Ghost doesn’t hear any wistfulness or longing in your voice, anything that would tell him that you’re clinging on to the boy you thought he was. Only a bone-dry and hollow statement of facts.

“What do you want?”

You ignore his question. At fifteen, you were good at that. At twenty-five, you’re better. “You got any cigarettes I could bum? You look like you still smoke them,” You say as you fiddle with your torn, bleeding nail beds with the classic anxiety of nicotine withdrawal.

He does that too when a mission stretches too long without a resupply and he finishes his cigarettes early to stave off hunger.

Ghost remembers fighting with you over the pack of smokes he smuggled into the program. He would hold it way above your head and laugh as you struggled to reach them. But you never gave up - they were bad for him, and you liked him too much to see him die of lung cancer.

He remembers the determination in your eyes and your unwavering faith that he could be saved.

“They’re bad for you,” Ghost echoes.

If you remember that moment, you don’t show it. “You know what else is fucking bad for you?” Your tone is so acerbic that it gives him whiplash.

He can’t resist taking a shot. “What, being a prick?” You just… bring out the worst in him. You make him feel as unhinged and unmoored as he was when you first met.

You roll your bloodshot eyes.

“I wasn’t going to call you out on that. I was going to say benzos and vodka. Also throwing yourself headfirst off a bridge.”

“Oh.”

What is he supposed to say to that?

“Why did you come?” You ask after a long moment of quiet interspersed by that fucking heart monitor.

Ghost grinds his teeth into each other as he reflects. He hates doing that; the inside of his skull is a bad place. “…I don’t know,” He admits. Coming here was a mistake; Ghost understands that now.

The foul taste on the back of his tongue is guilt. But why? You did this to yourself. You brought him here to play games and fuck him up, so why is he the one who feels… bad?

You sigh. “Simon-“

“Ghost. It’s Ghost now,” He cuts you off with more violence than necessary.

Your mouth settles into a tight, pained line. “Ghost. Go away.”

“But you called me here.”

That provokes a reaction.

Ghost sees it and immediately wishes it hadn’t.

You stare him straight in the eye, your dilated pupils peel back his mask and see the face underneath. Your skin is tinged gray and your bottom lip blooms red with blood from where you’ve bitten through it.

He wants back the child sobbing for his forgiveness on her knees, who looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“And it was a mistake, and I should never have done it, and I just wanted the satisfaction of knowing you weren’t going to pick up the phone. That I was truly alone.”

So the memory of him is a knife you’re using on yourself. Fucking disturbing.

“Oh.”

You raise an eyebrow as you wave. “Bye.”

Right.

That’s it.

Though your dismissal rankles, Ghost does as you ordered and takes his leave of you.

His work phone vibrates a few times.

Only one person calls that it. “Captain,” Ghost greets.

Captain Price clears his throat on the other side of the line. “Lieutenant. When can we expect you back?”

‘Tomorrow’ is on the tip of Ghost’s tongue.

He’s never taken a day off in his career, which means he’s got at least a year or two in built up vacation time. “I’ll be gone for a while longer, sir. Not sure yet how long,” Ghost answers promptly.

It’s only for a few more days, a week at most. Long enough to make sure you won’t try to kill yourself again, long enough for the guilt freezing his blood and choking his lungs to fade.

“Alright, Lieutenant. Keep us posted.”

“Yes, sir.”

TAGGING: @devcica @igotmajordaddyissues @almightywdm @copiasratscheese @nerdyreaderpapi @schmelscorner

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[tangledinink]

I told y'all I was still working on this project! >:3c Chapter 26 of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is out! Thank you so so so much to everyone recently who's taken the time to comment/send asks/etc etc etc, it makes me very happy... ; w ; The Hamatos are slowly improving upon their ninja skills, and the latest mission goes off without a hitch...! Mostly...? Read it on ao3 or below the cut.

[ prev ]

If you had tried to describe this scene to April a few months back, there’s no way she would have ever believed it. Hell, if you had tried to describe it to her a few weeks ago, she still probably wouldn’t have believed it, because the concept was just so… alien. Even after she knew about her brothers’ ‘mutant origins,’ it still felt alien. She couldn’t help but see them as anything but… people! Those were just her brothers. And the right way to see them was just the way she had always known them; as humans. And seeing them in ‘turtle mode,’ as Mikey had taken to calling it, felt so strange and uncomfortable. Not just because she wasn’t used to it, but because she knew that they weren’t used to it, and the way they had held themselves just always seemed so… unhappy. Like their own skin was burning them. She couldn’t help but look at them and the way they moved and how they held themselves and think, oh my god, they’re sick. Something is wrong. I have to help them. I have to take care of them. 

But jesus, the way Mikey moved now? It was the most natural thing in the world. It was like he had been this way his entire life, and he couldn’t possibly seem more comfortable or at ease. All April could really think was, wow. He’s in his element, isn’t he?

She had been vaguely aware of this new ‘thing’ the guys were working on for a while, but this was the first time they actually tried it out for-real-for-real, out in the field, on some low-stakes outing. There wasn’t even a Dark Armor piece here or anything; they were just staking the place out because Foot Shack merchandise trucks came in and out of this parking garage a lot, and they were looking into it, just in case. Just practice, more than anything, with Raph leading the way and Yoshi once again on standby…

It was just so fluid. April watched in silent awe as her littlest brother slipped in and out of two different bodies like water, seamlessly transitioning from one to the other as he moved. Five fingers would be conjured to undo a latch on a grate, and then tucked back away again as if they had never been there. He’d flit from form to form to match each shadow and blend in. 

At one point, even, when they were ascending a fire escape, making their way up to the roof to get a bird’s eye view, Mikey misstepped and he slipped-- and he fell. Every single person had jumped for a moment, and April could tell that all her brothers were about ready to dive after him. She was, too.

But they didn’t need to.

He was tucked into the safety of his shell before he even hit the ground.

And by the time the hard carapace was bouncing back up after smacking against the pavement, eliciting only a short clack with the impact, he was a human again, his feet under him, jumping back onto the fire escape to catch up again as if nothing had ever happened.

Raph and Leo were doing it, too, but… God. Not like Mikey.

But April had to admit-- even Raph and Leo were beginning to get the hang of it. They all were.

Well… All of them except for Donnie.

“You know,” she mumbled at some point once they got to the top of the roof, heaving her way upwards. Donnie reached over to grab her arm, helping hoist her the rest of the way up. “If either of us fell, we’d be totally screwed.”

“Yes, well,” they muttered in a deadpan. “Just trying to offer some solidarity to you, our sole human team member. I know it must be very difficult to be a minority.”

April scoffed softly, but didn’t push it.

Leo grinned big, stretching his arms over his head as the whole group made their way up to the rooftop. “Okay, uhhh, I don’t wanna jinx it--”

“Then don’t--” Donnie hissed.

“But this is actually going, like, really well?”

“Why would you say that?” Donnie sighed deeply, shaking his head. 

“Oh, psh. As if you believe in all that, anyway,” Leo scoffed, waving him away with a flick of his wrist. “I’m just saying, like, we’re kind of being badasses!”

“All we’re doing is sneaking around an empty parking garage,” Donnie pointed out dryly, quirking a brow as he crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not exactly high stakes.”

“See, Dee, this is your problem,” Leo sighed, shaking his head as he placed a hand on his hip. “You’re always focused on the negatives…!”

“Both of you shut up,” Raph said. “Leo is right--”

“HAH! Suck it--”

“Shut up,” Raph pressed, smacking a large palm over his little brother’s face in order to quiet him. “He’s right that we did good. Or. Well. We’re doin’ good so far. And Dee, nice job figurin’ out the bracelet thing! It’s way easier to swap back and forth without having to actually take it off.”

Donnie puffed up his chest a bit, seeming smug. “Yes, well, it isn’t a terribly complicated mechanism, it just took a bit of studying for me to unravel, truly no great feat--”

“Don’t get carried away,” April mumbled, leaning over to hip-check her brother briefly. Donnie huffed.

“Sooooo… now what do we do?” Mikey asked, turning to glance over the side of the roof, resting his elbows on the ledge. “‘Cause, uhhh, no offense? But this place is… suppperrrr boring!”

“Well,” Raph said, seeming a bit unsure of himself. “We, uh… We didn’t find anything evil or anythin’. Which is good! So I guess we…”

“Document the hell out of everything!” Donnie declared happily, moving to join Mikey’s side with a grin. “Snag pictures of the layouts, all exits and entrances, stairwells, and anything else that may be pertinent, and I can reverse engineer blueprints of the entire place with some beta software I have back home-- this would be the perfect chance to try it out. And then, if anything evil does ever happen here, we will be completely prepared!”

“Uh, yeah!” Raph agreed after just a beat of hesitation. “What Donnie said! That’s what we’re doing.”

“Impeccable leadership as always, dear Raphala,” Donnie sang, wasting no time at all in slinging his backpack from his back, beginning to unpack a cacophony of tech. “Now, I have HD, nightvision, two different drones, one macro and one micro, body cams, magnetic sonogram machines, patent pending, and a RED, which no, Mikey, you may not touch--”

“Aw, what!? No fair!”

“Ask Dad for your own!”

“But you already have one--”

April sighed deeply, rolling her eyes and resisting an exasperated smile. Oh boy. Donnie came prepared prepared.

That meant… This might take a while.

---

Casey had been told her entire life that she was too loud.

So she was well aware of the fact.

Her mother had told her, back when she was in contact with her. Her teachers had told her, back when she went to school. And her Senseis had told her, too, over and over again, gently informing her each time her volume got away from her that she needed to dial it back a bit. She was aware. She knew she was too loud.

But no one ever had anything to say when she was quiet.

Because she was capable. She had dedicated years of her life training to be a ninja-- obviously, she could be quiet. And really, she had always known how to be quiet. She had been good at it ever since she was small. 

It was just that when she was quiet, no one ever had anything to say.

No one ever looked at her when she was quiet.

She’d fade away.

So it was easy, really, to find hiding places around the Foot’s hideout any time she had free time on her hands to burn away. She was quite good at tucking herself into little cracks and crevices, and always had been. The layout of their base really only lent to this. And she had only gotten better at it as time passed.

Perched up on the catwalk, curled up small and bent over, she could watch members of the Foot returning from their latest mission, greeted excitedly by the rest of their clan. They had been gone for some time now-- one of the many elite strike teams sent out to fetch more far-flung armor pieces. They weren’t all just conveniently clustered in New York, after all. 

They had started sending these teams out months ago. And now, one by one, they all slowly returned, each with another piece of the armor in hand to add to their growing collection.

Every day, they got closer. She could feel the energy in the air, ever pitching higher and sharper the closer they got to their goal. Even her senseis were infected by it, brighter than she had ever seen them before.

And that was amazing. That was wonderful.

She remembered the praise she had gotten after that one mission-- after she faced down the Hamato Clan in a department store of all places. How pleased they had been with her. And god, that had been amazing.

But now she simply resented its absence. 

And even though she had always known that there wasn’t really any chance that she’d be sent to join any of these special teams-- to be sent out to join them in the field and contribute to something greater, to be a true part of the clan and show them what she could do… 

Every time another came back, it just sealed the reality of the matter that that door had closed. And she wasn’t going anywhere.

---

“Donnie, seriously--”

“What!? Do you want the 3D model to be accurate, or don’t you!?” He cried, whipping around to face her, and April groaned loudly, dragging her hands down her face.

“Why do we need a 3D model again!? Just make a blueprint!”

“Ah, yes, well, I could…” Donnie said, spinning on his heels with a grin. “But why have an inferior, two-dimensional recreation of a space when I could make a far superior, three-dimensional recreation!? That’s a whole entire other dimension!”

“Donnie!” April barked, scowling. “We have been here for hours. Do you have any idea what time it is?!”

“No, not really.”

“Well how about you check!?”

“Fine, fine, yes, the time is approximately-- Oh, sweet Galileo. Is it actually that late?”

“Yes!” All four of his siblings chorused, and Donnie scowled, a little pout blossoming on his face.

“... But… My model…”

“Donnie, you’ve already documented nearly every square inch of this place--”

“I’m sure the model will be fine, Purple,” Yoshi’s voice crackled over the radio. “It is time to go home.” 

Donnie sighed deeply, giving a dramatic heave of his chest… but he reluctantly began to pack his gear away. “Okay, okay, fine. I will concede. But if there comes a time when we are in desperate need of a one-hundred-percent accurate third-dimensional model of this establishment, I hope you will all be prepared to eateth thy--”

“Shush. We’re on a stealth mission, remember?” Raph muttered, swiping at his head lightly. “C’mon, you guys. Leo, wake Mikey up, let’s go.”

Leo sighed, allowing the video he was playing on his phone to wrap up before he pocketed it, beginning to nudge his younger brother, curled up and slumped against him.

“C’mon, Angie, we’re going home,”

“Whaaaaa…” Mikey mumbled, blearily beginning to open his eyes-- blinking away the few stray rays of orange light that fluttered around his eyelashes even when he was just dozing. “Did we… win…?”

“Yep, we totally won. C’mon. Get up.”

Raph sighed deeply. “Do you want me to carry--?”

“No! I can do it!” Mikey woke up properly now, quickly scrabbling up to his feet. 

April sighed deeply. “My parents are going to kill me for being out this late,” she grumbled. “And when they kill me, I’m killing all of you, just for the record!”

“Don’t kill me! Kill Donnie!” Leo protested.

“Oh, like any of you were keeping track of time and keeping him from going totally Donnie about this whole thing!”

“Hey--”

“Neither were you,” Mikey pointed out, and April scowled, grinding her teeth.

Dammit.

She hated when he had a point. 

“Whatever. C’mon, let’s get out of here,” she said with a huff. “You good, Donnie?”

“All set,” he replied, tossing his bag back over his shoulder. “Let us bounce.”

And so they did. 

The good news was that Leo was getting a lot better about this whole portalling thing with the help of the weird mystic sword he had! Which was cool, so the commute home? So do-able! 

The bad news was that it was still way past her curfew. She quietly cursed herself for letting them be out so late. She hadn’t even realized the time until she glanced at her phone and noticed all the texts… and the missed calls.

“You good, April?” Raph questioned, frowning a bit as she hurriedly gathered her things, having traded her certified Ninja Gear for street clothes, quickly shoving things into her bag and toeing on her shoes.

“I’m fine, it’s all good,” she muttered.

“Do you want me to walk you home…?” Yoshi questioned, his brows furrowed. “I’m sure I could talk to your parents--”

“It’s fine, Yosh. Don’t worry about it. They’re chill! They probably, like… barely noticed I’m late!” She said, forcing a smile.

“Alright, well, if you need anything--”

“Right! Got it, thanks, bye!” She chirped, throwing herself out the door and slamming it shut behind her before she could look at their sad, guilty faces any more. Ugh. It wasn’t their fault, really. I mean, it was, but no more than it was her own. 

I should have set an alarm, she thought bitterly.

On a stealth ninja mission? So it can go off in the middle of you trying to sneak past a bad guy or something? Yeah, brilliant plan, she thought immediately after.

When April quietly crept back into her own apartment, slipping her key into the side door, the house seemed quiet. The kitchen lights were off, and there was no screaming or yelling right off the bat. That was a good sign.

The living room lights, however, she could already see from here… were on. That was a less good sign.

Drawing in one last deep breath, she darted the rest of the way inside, bumping the door closed with her hip.

“Hey, guys, I’m home…!”

“April!” Her mom responded to the call almost immediately, and half a second later, April was no longer alone in the kitchen. Warm yellow light flooded the space as a light switch was clicked on, and April winced slightly, blinking a few times to adjust. “There you are-- where in the world have you been?! Do you have any idea what time it is?!”

“Uh, yeah, my bad!” She laughed nervously, throwing her hands up as if to surrender. “Kinda lost track of time, uh, I was just over at the Hamatos doing homework and stuff…”

“Oh, were you?” That was her dad, now, and April winced a tiny bit at the tone he used, which meant that she had fucked up. “Because we went over knocking on their door ten minutes ago to come and get you, and no one answered.”

Oop. Fuck. 

“Oh, yeah, we ran over to the corner store to get some snacks, so…?”

“In the middle of the night? By yourself?” Her mom protested, and April huffed softly, rolling her eyes.

“Uh, no? I literally just said that I went with the Hamatos--”

“Hey! Watch the attitude, miss,” her dad immediately cut in, and April winced. “I don’t think you have any room to be being huffy at us when you’re coming home two hours past curfew, and wouldn’t pick up your phone… Do you have any idea how many times we called you!?!”

“I’m sorry!” She said, throwing up her hands. “I forgot I had it on silent, I just, I wasn’t looking at the clock…!”

“For two hours?” Her mom cried. April bit the inside of her cheek, feeling her stomach flip-flop in response to the slight crack in her mother’s voice. “April, baby, you-- you can’t do that! This isn’t okay!”

“It was an accident--!”

“You can’t just disappear!” She continued. “You can’t just leave us not knowing where you are, we can’t--!”

“I know! I know, I’m sorry, okay? It was an accident!” April pressed, her face flushed. “I know, okay? I really, really didn’t mean to…! I just… I wasn’t paying attention. Okay?”

She frowned, wrinkling up her nose and glaring at her feet.

“Sorry.”

For a few long moments, the kitchen was silent. 

Her father heaved a long, shuddering sigh.

“No more phone on silent,” he finally said. “When we text or call you, we expect you to answer right away. Understood?”

“... Yeah. Okay,” April grumbled softly, kind of toeing at the kitchen tile. She was sure Donnie could help her… figure out a way to make that work when they were out on missions and stuff… 

“And this is the last time you miss curfew,” he added in, his eyes narrowed. “Full stop. We are not doing this again. Understood?”

“... Yeah.”

“April.”

“Yes. Understood, Dad,” she sighed loudly, tilting her head back and resisting the urge to roll her eyes, frustration prickling at her stomach. 

“... Go to bed,” her dad finally said, his arms still crossed over his chest. “And you come straight home after school tomorrow.”

“Wha-- but Dad! I was gonna--”

“Do not argue with me April O’Neil,” he snapped. “Bed. Now. We’re not discussing this any further.”

April really, really thought about discussing it further.

But she didn’t.

For a lot of reasons. One being that she valued her life and freedom.

The other being that she couldn’t stand to look at her mom’s face anymore. Not when she was staring at her like that.

It wasn’t like she had never lied to her parents before. Of course she had! What teen doesn’t? She had fibbed about plenty of things before. Yes, I did brush my teeth already. No, I didn’t unlock all the parental controls on the computer. Yes, I am going to Bailey’s to study for chemistry and not anywhere else or for any other reason. Etc. etc. etc. 

But she had never lied… like this before.

April ground her teeth, kicking her door shut as she threw her bag down, flopping down onto her bed and burying her face into the nearest pillow with a scowl. She suddenly felt unwelcome tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, and she tried to will them away, though with mixed success. 

A little part of her thought, they’d understand if you explained everything to them.

But a much larger part of her said, are you literally insane? 

Because, really… how do you explain something like this? How would she even begin? What would she say? And even if she did try, even if she did think it was a good idea, even if she did want to, she…

She couldn’t.

Because it wasn’t her secret to tell. 

April had known Raph, Donnie, Leo, and Mikey since she was six. She used to go over to their house every day after school until her parents came home. Their families went on day trips together. They celebrated holidays together. Her parents knew the Hamatos nearly as well as they knew her. They had always had this… weird, amazing blend of Hamato and O’Neil, pressed close in such a way that it was hard to see where one started and the other began sometimes.

And she had always loved that. She had always adored this.

But she had never felt a pull like this before.

She had never felt like she had to choose between being an O’Neil or a Hamato before.

---

“Daddy!” April shrieked.

She waited a moment, pausing to see if she’d get a reply, but after five seconds passed without a response, she breathed in deep, repeating the call with the volume cranked up.

“Daddy!”

That one worked. Her dad’s head popped out from the apartment a moment later, peering through the door that was always kept propped open when she played in the alley like this. “I’m comin, I’m comin, baby, hang on--”

“Come look!” April bade, waving her arms hurriedly. “Hurry up!”

“I’m hurrying! I’m hurrying!” Her dad laughed, quickly toeing on some sneakers before venturing out into the concrete jungle, half-jogging his way over to where she was crouched in the alley, moving to squat down next to her.

“What? What is it?”

“Lookit what I found!” She squeaked excitedly, pointing to a single feather resting on the asphalt. “Look! A feather!”

“Oh, wow! Good find, sunshine.”

“Can I pick it up!?”

“... Yeah, okay, so long as you wash your hands afterward.”

April absolutely wriggled with excitement, immediately snatching the feather up from the ground, turning it over in her hands a few times to examine. One side of it was this pale, cloudy gray, all fluffy and soft, but the other side was a sleek, shiny shade of cobalt blue. Just holding it made her grin, and she looked up at her dad with wide eyes.

“What kinda feather is it?”

“I dunno,” her dad said, shrugging a bit, resting his elbows on his knees. “But I bet we could find out.”

---

“Casey.”

Casey whined softly, curled up a bit further under the covers. Was it time for school already…? But she didn’t wanna get up…

“Hey. C’mon, Casey. Wake up.”

Wait, wasn’t it a Saturday…?

“Noooo…”

“No?”

“Noooooo.”

“What’s wrong, Case?”

“I’m sleeping, Daddy…”

“Oh, you’re sleeping?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize,” her father exclaimed with faux surprise, drawing back slightly. “Well, if you’re sleeping, and you don’t want to go hiking up on Newton Hill with me--”

Casey’s eyes shot open.

“You’re going out into the woods?!” She gasped, immediately upright in bed, her eyes wide.

“I am,” her dad confirmed, this big, wide grin growing on his face. “I was hoping you’d come with me, but, I mean, if you’re still sleeping…”

“No! No, I’m awake!” She squeaked, just barely managing to contain herself and keep her volume down. She threw her covers back, scrambling quickly from bed. “I swear I’m awake! Please can I come hiking with you?!”

Her dad laughed.

“Ah, how can I say no to that face?” He teased, reaching down to ruffle her hair. “Hurry up and get dressed, sunshine, and let’s get out of here.”

---

April gasped, jumping over her dad’s arm so that she could point at the screen of his laptop.

“That one! That’s the feather!” She exclaimed. “It looks just like ours!”

“Hmmm…” Her father hummed appraisingly, leaning into slightly to squint, before he gave a firm nod. “I do concur, April, I think that is our feather! Here, let’s double-check. Are the colors the same?”

“Yeah!” April said, grinning wide as she held the feather up. “Look! It’s the same blue.”

“And the same shape, right?”

“Uh-huh!”

“And we measured it--”

“And it’s twelve centimeters! Look, Daddy! It’s this one!” She insisted, and her father laughed. 

“Yeah, okay. You’re right. Definitely our feather.”

“What bird is it!?”

“According to this, it’s a mallard feather.”

“A mallard?” April echoed. “What’s that?”

“It’s a type of duck!”

“A duck!?” April cried, her eyes widening, holding her prize up in amazement. “This is a duck feather!?”

“It sure is, sunny girl.”

“Whoa! That’s so cool!” 

“You know,” her dad said. “I bet if we went down to the park, we might be able to find some more feathers…” 

---

Cassandra was absolutely alight with energy, bouncing from foot to foot as she scampered around, practically doing laps around her dad. The drive over had been equal parts exhilarating and tortuous, with Casey wriggling in her car seat the entire time, her face pressed up against the window.

This was her favorite thing in the world.

She loved Newton Hill.

“Daddy, I wanna go all the way to the top!!!” She exclaimed, bouncing up and down, grabbing onto his pants leg to yank at him.

“All the way to the top?” He echoed dramatically.

“Yes!”

“Alright, you got it,” he hummed, fishing something from his pocket before kneeling down next to her. “All the way to the top. I think we can do it.”

“We can,” Casey agreed excitedly, leaning against his knee and leaning over slightly so she could peer at the item in his hands.

“Alright. Let’s do it,” her dad enthused. “But first-- I have got a job for you, Casey.”

Casey blinked in surprise as her father pressed the stopwatch into her palm, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“I have a job?”

“You have a job,” he confirmed. “You are gonna be in charge of timing us.”

“Timing us?”

“Yep! Here, you press this button to start the time-- and this button to end it. And you--” He pointed to her decisively, this big, mischievous grin on his face. “Are gonna find out how long it takes us to get from here to the top of the trail.”

Casey tilted her head to the side.

“Why?”

“Because,” her father declared, his hands on his hips as he rose back up to his feet. “David from work bet that I couldn’t get all the way up to the top in four hours. So now I’ve gotta prove him wrong.”

Casey stared at her father for a second.

And then she gasped.

“He bet we couldn’t do the whole trail in four hours!?” She shrieked in offense.

“He sure did, Case.”

“HOW DARE HE!” She wailed, throwing her head back.

This was the other best part of Newton Hill. She could be as loud as she wanted out here.

“Exactly!” Her father sighed, throwing out his hands with a dramatic shake of his head. “I knew you’d understand. So obviously, we have to show him up! You up for the challenge, sunshine?”

“Yes!” She cried, immediately setting off-- hesitating only long enough to run back, grabbing onto her dad’s pants leg and yanking at him. “Come ON! Hurry up! We are gonna WIN! Let’s GO!”

---

“Come on! Hurry up! Let’s go!” April squealed, yanking at her Dad’s hand impatiently. “Look! I see one!”

“I’m coming, April, I’m coming!” Her dad laughed, jogging slightly to keep up with the enthusiastic five-year-old. “Hang on, sunshine.”

April darted across the lawn, hopping over wayward twigs or stones until she got to the water’s edge, waving her arms excitedly as she knelt down to pluck the feather from the ground.

“Look!” She said, beaming as she turned to show her dad. “Do you think it’s another duck feather?!”

“Might be. Or it could be a goose.”

“I hope it’s a goose,” April said, scampering her way back over to her dad, who knelt down to hold open the ziploc baggie for her. April deposited the feather inside, along with the several other specimens they had already collected. “We already have a duck feather.”

“Yeah, but maybe it’ll be a different kind of duck,” her dad countered, zipping the baggie back up once their prize was safe inside. April paused at this, tilting her head to the side slightly. Oh! Another kind of duck? She hadn’t even thought about that!

“Well, then, I hope it’s a different kind of duck. Or a goose,” she declared, grinning big. “When we get back home, can we show Mommy all the feathers?”

“Of course we can,” her dad said. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled for you to show her. Especially if you can tell her which feather is which!”

“I will. I’m gonna look it up. I’m gonna do research,” April declared proudly, grinning as she spun around on her heel. “Come on! We gotta find some more. I wanna have a bunch for mommy.”

---

Casey froze in place, her body going rigid as a tiny little gasp caught itself in her throat.

“Daddy!” She whispered, her voice hushed, but fervent. “Daddy, lookit! Under the rock!”

After hiking for two hours now, Casey only occasionally electing to ride on her dad’s shoulders rather than racing up the trail, poking at every leaf, stone, and mushroom they came across, the pair had finally elected to take a break, settling down on the stones of a creekbed to rest and munch on the snacks her father had packed along. The stopwatch she was wearing around her neck was still ticking away-- but they were making good time. Certainly enough time to catch their breath.

And it was here that Casey spotted a tiny black-and-yellow snake-- just barely poking its head from beneath the shadows of a stone just inches away from them. Its little pink tongue flicked out a few times as it examined the world hesitantly, turning its head from side to side, as if checking for something.

“Whoa!” Her dad breathed, keeping care to keep his voice soft once he spotted the creature. He slowly moved to place a hand on her shoulder, patting her gently. “Nice eye, Casey.”

“It’s a real snake!”

“It is.”

“What kind is it?”

“Probably a garter snake, I’d bet,” he whispered, grinning ever so slightly. “I bet he wants to come out and sun himself on the rocks.”

“Why?”

“Reptiles are cold-blooded, Casey. They’ve gotta warm themselves up with the sun, or else they get too cold.” 

“Oh,” she said, her eyes wide. “... He’s so cool…”

“He is,” her dad agreed, shooting her a small grin. “Good job, sunshine. I never even would have noticed that little guy! I would have totally missed him.”

Casey absolutely beamed. “Really?”

“Yep!” He confirmed, chuckling softly, leaning over to ruffle her long black hair, carding his fingers through it briefly. “But you’re so smart, of course you saw it… Alright. You ready to get moving again? I bet that little dude would be pretty excited if he got to come out in peace and warm himself up.”

She nodded excitedly, wasting no time at all in beginning to get herself back to her feet. Despite all the running and jumping and climbing she had already done, she was suddenly filled with energy once more.

“I’m ready, Daddy!”

---

“And this one is a pigeon…”

“Mmm-hmmm…”

“And this is a pigeon…”

“I see…”

“And this one a pigeon feather, too…”

“Ah…”

“And this is a starling!”

“Oh!”

“And this is a pigeon!” April exclaimed excitedly, spreading the feathers out on the paper towel slightly, grinning big. “... There are a lotta pigeon ones.”

“That does make sense,” her mom said, smiling a tiny bit. “Thank you so much for showing me, baby! This is so impressive! I can’t believe you found all of these all by yourself!”

“Nu-uh!” April protested, turning to grin big up at her mother. “Daddy helped me! Except for the first one. I found that one all on my own.”

“Well, then, good job to your Daddy, too,” her mom remarked, and April just caught her shoot a smile across the kitchen to her dad, who was busy preparing dinner. He smiled a tiny bit, too. 

“I’m gonna make a chart for them and stuff. In a book,” she declared proudly, beginning to climb her way up into her mom’s lap, absolutely beaming as she did so.

“April, sweetheart, you need to wash her hands--”

“Will you help me make it? Pleasseeee? I wanna make it look cool.”

---

Casey was so tall. 

Every time they got all the way up here, to the very top of the hill, up as high as they could go, she would always think, wow. This is the tallest we can get. This is so tall. 

And then every time, her dad would pick her up and put her on his shoulders, and then she’d be even taller.

And it had only taken them three hours and forty-two minutes to get here.

“There’s not even any clouds!” Casey marveled, eyes absolutely sparkling as she leaned back slightly, clinging to her dad’s head to keep her balance. “It’s just blue!”

“Yeah, it’s a nice day, isn’t it? Perfect for hiking,” he declared, grinning. “Can you believe David said we couldn’t make it!?”

“David is WRONG!” She declared, just as loud as she possibly could, and she grinned at how her voice carried. It made her feel all shimmery. Her dad laughed.

“You wanna yell?”

“YES!” She gasped. “You do it, too! I wanna do it together!”

“Okay, okay. We’ll go on the count of three. You ready?”

“Mmm-hmmm!”

“Okay. One… Two…”

Casey took a deep breath in.

“Three!”

Throwing her head forward, her eyes shut tight and her hands balled into fists, Cassandra reached as deep into her little six-year-old chest as she could possibly reach, and she dredged up the biggest, longest, loudest howl that she could possibly conjure. It always hurt her throat a little, but it never hurt more than it felt good. It made her entire body vibrate. And her dad was screaming, too, holding onto her hands with his own big ones, the two of them harmonizing together as they screamed out into the woods from the top of the hill, their voices echoing out into the sky.

She kept going until there was no more left in her, running out of air entirely and left with just shaking, heaving breaths, her shoulders trembling as she panted.

And for a second, both of them were both quiet. And then finally, her dad chuckled, tossing his shoulders a few times to jostle her slightly.

“One of these days, you’re gonna shatter my eardrums, sunshine. I hope you know that,” he laughed, and Casey just grinned, hanging onto him.

“I like yelling,” she hummed.

And for a bit longer, it was quiet again. 

Just the two of them on the top of the world.

And then Dad’s cellphone began to ring. 

Casey paused, frowning slightly as she watched her father fish the device from his pocket, glancing at the screen and scoffing in such a way that Casey already knew who was on the line.

“Damn. Too bad we still have service up here, huh?” He tsked, and Casey frowned.

“Don’t be mean to mommy,” she muttered petulantly. “I don’t like it.”

“Sorry, Casey. My bad,” he sighed, crouching down so he could ease her down off his shoulders and back onto her own two feet. “Here. Just gimme two seconds to talk to her, okay?”

“Can I talk to her when you’re done?” She asked, and Dad hesitated.

“Uh, maybe! Lemme just talk to her real quick first and see what she wants. I promise it’ll be fast. Here, hang on. You can time me, okay?” He said, returning the stopwatch back to her hands. “Think you can do that?”

“Yeah…”

“Good girl. I’ll be right back,” Dad said, offering her one last crooked smile before turning away, looping off a few paces before finally picking up his phone.

“Hello?”

“Yeah?--”

“Yeah, I know.”

“No, we just went up hiking--”

“I know that, but it’s just one day. Yeah, I know that… I’m going to!”

“She loves it up here!”

“I will, just-- Could you please just listen to me?-- No, I didn’t--”

Casey frowned. She settled down to sit in the grass and hit the ‘start’ button on the stopwatch.

[ next ]

#sorrywhatnowau #sorrywhatnowau fic #sorrywhatnowau fanfic #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt au #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt human au #fanfic #writing #rottmnt april #rottmnt casey jones #rottmnt cassandra jones

[princecharmingwinks]

Sterek Fic Rec - April & May 2023. Sorry team, I know I am late and now combining months. Been busy with other things so while I hope to keep doing rec lists, they may be less monthly overall. But I promise I am still here! :)

Orbit (yours is the only one i'd follow) by whenwordsmakesense (1/1 | 1K | Teen)

Stiles flashes back to the nights and mornings he has spent in Derek’s bed, only because he’d fallen asleep researching the latest trouble in their town and Derek hadn’t felt like waking him up, only to drive sleepily and more than likely end up on his computer again once he got home. And he thinks of this pack, his family, has tied them to each other—all of them—and he thinks of how love has filled them up where the holes of loss have taken place.

OR

Stiles muses on what love is.

The Ink Under My Skin by rainsoakedshoes (1/1 | 10K | Mature)

Derek is looking for an Emissary. What he finds is Stiles Stilinski; resident witch.

Stiles would do whatever it takes to protect the Hale pack and his Alpha.

***

“I want to protect my pack as well as I can,” Derek continued. “Emissaries traditionally keep balance, having someone who wants to tip the odds in our favour may come in handy.”

Figure it Out by Gia279 (1/1 | 5K | Not Rated | Podfic by josilverdragon)

“He isn’t cursed,” Derek said suddenly, “I am.” As he spoke, no less than three lizards tumbled from his mouth. He caught them before they hit the ground, clutching them in folded fingers.

Dream Mate - Real Mate by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving (1/1 | 4K | Teen)

Stiles is hired to put magical protection on the Hale house, Derek is incapable of making words in his presence. Somehow they still manage to get a happy ending

Derek Hale--Even in the Wind His Hair Is Perfect by literaryoblivion (1/1 | 2K | Teen)

It’s not the greatest job in the world, but someone’s gotta do it. And Stiles makes the most of it, okay?

Writing captions for the live broadcasts as well as helping run and write the copy for the online news stories can get rather tedious and boring, but Stiles tries his best to keep himself entertained. Slipping in a movie or comic book reference inside a human interest story just to see if someone comments about it, putting up a funny headline to see if someone catches it and puts it up on reddit, you know harmless things that to the casual viewer and reader will go unnoticed but to those that actually pay attention, they might get a kick out of it.

Recently though, he maybe has been… abusing his power.

(There's) no smoke without fire by Ark (1/1 | 6K | Explicit | Podfic by  pricklywhicket)

They kiss for entirely too long. If anyone found them in the woods just then they would be like, dudes, this is excessive.

“Stiles, I was talking about the lasagna” by quackquackcey (1/1 | 2K | Teen)

The time Stiles thought his dad could read minds and ended up confessing his inner most thoughts starring Derek—twice.~ 🐺💝

Couldn't find the words by Tails89 (6/6 | 21K | Teen)

*Complete*

John stands, holding out his hand for Melissa. “I never thought I’d be happy to see my son dating Derek Hale."

“They’re good for each other.” Melissa lets John pull her up onto her feet. “I’m happy for them.”

a.k.a

Five times someone thought Stiles and Derek were dating (plus one time they finally used their words and were!)

all my blossoms by WeAreTheLuckyOnes (1/1 | 7K | Mature)

Stiles has to nudge Derek over as he climbs into bed and under the quilt, but Derek goes easily, rolling onto his side and curving around Stiles's body when he settles. He puts his face into Stiles's throat, nose nudging against Stiles's jaw, arm sliding around Stiles's waist. Stiles is asleep in mere moments, comfortable and warm and safe against Derek's body.

Or the one where Stiles and Derek just get to be happy.

You Always Make A Bloody Mess by Sweetsyren (1/1 | 5K | Explicit)

Stiles is used to hiding his scars.

princecharmingwinks special mention (the found family vibes are so sweet!)

here is the deepest secret nobody knows by owlpostagain (1/1 | 22K | Teen)

“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”

See you next time team! Hopefully not as long before the next list. Remember to send all the love and kudos to our fabulous writers (and podficcers!).

#sterek #sterek fanfiction #fic rec #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #princecharminglists

[achenetype]

better the devil you know. — dealer!ares

pairing: dealer!ares x reader

content/warnings: suggestive content, no sex in this one sorry but i do have a sequel planned, age gap, modern au, reader's parents are implied to be abusive, ares drives recklessly, Inappropriate Thigh Touching (TM), drug mentions, dealer!ares

listening to: home by daughter

In hindsight, you should have gone to a college further away from your hometown. It would have been harder for your parents to convince you to come home if you weren’t living forty minutes away.

It would have been easier, actually — easier because you could have been hanging out with your friends, studying and drinking and smoking, instead of sitting with your back pressed against your door while your parents fought in the kitchen down the hall.

Jesus fucking Christ, your mother yells, muffled by the door, you don’t even care about this family!

You can’t hear what your father says in response, but the crash of a plate shattering against the wall makes you jump. Your hands shake as you pull your phone out of your pocket and scroll through your contacts until you reach the last number.

“Hey, kid,” Ares’ voice crackles through the speakers of your phone. “What’s up?”

Another thud sounds against the wall. You let out a shuddering breath, clutching your phone in your hands. “I, uh—I need, like, a favor,” you say.

You can almost hear Ares raising an eyebrow through the phone. “A favor?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I need—are you at your apartment?” You chew on your lip, pulling your sweatshirt tighter around your body. “Cause my—uh, things aren’t the best at my place right now,” you say.

Ares sighs, the sound made crackling by the speakers. “Thought you were at school?”

“I went home for the break,” you say. Another piece of glassware smashes against the wall; the sound crystallizes in your mind, piercing and terrible. Tears well up in your eyes.

You flinch and gasp, pressing your back against the door. “My parents—they, uh, they’re fighting, again.”

Ares clicks his tongue. “Shit, angel.” The sound of a lighter flicking on rasps through the phone and you squeeze your eyes shut.

This is the worst idea in the history of bad ideas. Ares isn’t a friend—he’s something different. Your dealer, yes. A smoke buddy. And sometimes, sometimes, there’s this weird tension between the two of you—this energy that makes your stomach turn and your head spin.

But asking him a favor like this…it could ruin everything.

“Can you,” you say, “can you, um. Come pick me up?” You bite your tongue as Ares lets out a slow exhale.

You’re about to retract your request when he says, “Send me your address.”

“Huh?” You blink, your breath catching in your throat.

“Send me your address,” Ares repeats. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

It feels like the air has been sucked out of your lungs. “Okay,” you breathe. “Okay.”

You’re not sure whether he hangs up or you do.

A few taps at your screen later, and a location pin pops up on in the black space of your messages.

You slowly stand up, still leaning against the door. The world feels like it’s moving in slow motion as you grab your backpack and absently start to fill it. Clothes. Your wallet and keys. The last dregs of the weed that you’d bought from Ares a few weeks ago.

You slide the panel of your window open, wincing at the scrape of metal on metal. You were used to sneaking out, but your legs had never shaken like this before—you’d never been running from something. You’d always been trying to get to somewhere, never away from it.

You step out onto the roof and shuffle to the edge of it, shimmying down the fire escape and jumping down to the pavement. Rain soaks through your sweatshirt as you walk around to the front of the building, dampening your skin and hair and chilling you to the bone.

You’re sitting on the sidewalk when Ares’ car—a battered Jeep—pulls up. You hear the door slam before you see him, but he kneels in front of you and gently brushes your hair out of your face.

“Hey, angel,” he murmurs. “C’mere. Up you go. Let’s get you inside.” His hands are warm and strong, pulling you to your feet, and his arms bracket your chest as you lean against him. “C’mon, angel. In the car.”

You nod numbly, stunned from the cold and the fear swirling in your chest. Ares’ eyes are dark as you climb into the passenger seat of his car and pull your knees to your chest. He tosses your bag into the backseat.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

Ares looks over at you and sighs, turning the key in the ignition. “‘S nothing.”

You tuck one soaked piece of your hair behind your ear as he pulls away from the curb. Cold air wafts through the air conditioning, making your sweatshirt stick uncomfortably to your chest and your arms. Your legs, exposed by your shorts, pebble with gooseflesh as you shiver and shift in the seat.

Ares’ eyes snap from the road to you, up and down, and one of his hands slides from the steering wheel to rest in the empty space between the two of you.

Despite the AC, it is suddenly and dizzyingly warm in the car.

Ares’ hand wavers in place for a split second before moving again, settling against your bare thigh. His thumb draws small circles on the flesh of your thigh as he drives.

“You okay?” he says, low and rough, not taking his eyes off the road.

You nod. “Mm-hmm,” you murmur. Your legs part even more, shifting your hips up slightly, and Ares’ grip on your thigh tightens.

The tension in the air was so thick you could have cut it. Your eyes flick from Ares’ hand to his face, back and forth, and the car speeds up as he merges onto the highway.

“Hold on,” he says, maybe more to himself than to you—his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thigh. You can feel a bruise forming under the skin, and the thought makes you just the slightest bit wet.

Just a little. You’re not that depraved.

Ares slides his hand higher, his fingertips grazing the seam of your torso and your leg, and you shudder as he slips a hand under the hem of your shorts.

Against your better judgement, you spread your legs that extra inch and lean back.

“[Y/N],” he says. “Tell me not to do this.”

“What?” You blink and look over to where Ares is white-knuckling the wheel. The speedometer on the car ticks up—Ares had already been speeding, but now it reads eighty, eighty-five. Ninety. You feel gravity pressing your back to the leather seat.

“You need to tell me to stop touching you,” he says lowly. “If you don’t want this, tell me no.”

You bite your lip. Oh.

“We can’t do this, angel,” he says, still pressing the gas pedal down. Ninety-six. Ninety-seven, eight.

“What if—what if I want you to?” The words come out of your mouth before you can stop them. Your heart batters against your rib cage. Ninety-nine.

Ares takes an exit—you're going too fast to see the sign—and leans on the brake, stopping just short of the crosswalk. The momentum throws you forward.

His hand moves from your thigh to rest across your collarbone, holding you back from hitting the dashboard.

"We're going to my place," he says roughly. "And we're gonna finish all this." He gestures with his free hand in the space between you and him.

You lean forward, so sweetly, and press a short kiss to Ares' lips. "I look forward to it," you say softly.

When the light turns green and Ares' eyes flick back to the road, you sneak a glance at his legs. Something satisfied and a little giddy curls up inside your stomach when you see that he's hard in his jeans.

#— ash’s writing! #ares pjo #ares pjo x reader #ares x reader #dealer!ares #reader insert #x reader #fem reader #female reader #Spotify #suggestive content #drug mention #weed mention #WHEEEE DEALER ARES LETS GO #hes in my brain literally all the time #next up is the road head + they fuck nasty fic

[thestarrynightslover]

The Day You Finally Caught a Break

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 1,574

Warnings: FLUFF. Mentions of sex crimes and crimes involving special victims (all very slight).

Summary: After living in a boring routine, the detective (y/n) (y/l/n) catches a lucky break with her colleague Jay Halstead.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: So, this is my first fic in a while and I am aware that it is very cheesy but I just felt like writing something cheesy. Anyways, I hope you like it!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

The day started just like any other would: waking up earlier than necessary, going for a run, doing some yoga, reading, and finally getting ready to go to work. Sure, to a lot of people that might have been a great morning, having all that time to do all that stuff… The only thing was: you’d been running on nothing beyond routine — one that had become quite boring, to be honest — for a couple of years now. Which made you that weird cop who actually enjoyed the worst cases just because it gave you some sort of purpose, some sort of change. Holding that thought, you were supposed to feel lucky once you and your team got deeper into your current case. But, even with the most boring of lives, a person — a decent human being — couldn’t feel lucky for even knowing something like that happens in the world, much less for having to know every sick and twisted detail of a case that involved sex trafficking, pregnant women, all sorts of assault and child abduction.

After it was “over”, around midnight, all of Intelligence seemed to silently agree on staying as long as necessary to finish their reports. Everybody thinking the same way: finishing this today, I can get outta here, get drunk, and put it in a box in the back of my head — where it’ll stay forever. As soon as someone would finish the paperwork, they’d grab their coat, mutter something resembling a goodbye, and rush out of there like the room was on fire. Molly’s wouldn’t be open anymore and none of you really wanted to spend time with each other to risk having to talk out what had happened. And then something strange happened.

Instead of just leaving like your partner Kim and his partner Kevin before her, Ruzek just stood at the door frame, waiting. For Upton. What? He kept looking at her desk so it was pretty obvious but the confirmation came when the detective got up saying: “Hey, Jay, I’mma get going now. You okay if we do our thing some other day?”

By the time Halstead looked up, she was almost reaching Adam which shocked the shit out of you but didn’t seem to faze him much, who only answered: “Yeah. Sure. Night, guys.” And then there were two—the only two Intelligence members who never exchanged more than a couple of polite measures.

Nevertheless, your gossip-starved soul got the best of you, who ended up blurting out a “They’re together?” to no one less than Jay Halstead. For a minute or so the other detective just looked around the room, as if expecting someone to jump out of nowhere and answer your question. But, after your eyes eventually met, he decided on answering.

“Eh… I don’t really know”, he started, while scratching the back of his neck, “I mean, it’s not like I’ve asked, you know?”

“Ah…” Was all you found to say after he stopped for a moment, but he continued.

“That’s just not really how it works between us. But the other day he did show up at her place late at night, which was suspicious. To say the least.” The words just flew right out of his mouth, surprising both of you, who started chuckling awkwardly at the recognition, “this is the first actual conversation we’ve had after all this time working together, isn’t it?”, he asked, ultimately.

“Yeah, I think it is,” you said, now full-on laughing. “God, I can’t believe that the first time I worked up the courage to actually talk to you was to ask for gossip!” You exclaimed, knowing that your cheeks were probably burning up with embarrassment.

“To be honest, I kinda needed to share that with someone. Especially after this moment here.” He confessed, making you laugh and forcing himself to laugh a bit more to try and hide the fact that he couldn’t stop staring at you. It just went wrong when his mouth betrayed him by saying: “You look so damn cute right now!”

"Well, it isn't every day that one finds out that the detective Jay Halstead is a gossip. Which makes me wonder who the cute one really is…"

"Oh, so that's where you're going with this?" He asked with his eyes twinkling. "Because I can prove just how not cute I am…"

"Oh?" You replied simply wondering what kind of proof he could provide against that.

"In fact, I have just the perfect idea, but, for that, you'd have to agree on going out with me first." Jay himself couldn't believe he finally managed to invite you out.

"Ooh, as in a d- date?" Who were you? Stuttering? C'mon!

"A date, yes." He answered, making you feel relieved and nervous again all at the same time.

"Yeah, I, uh, I wouldn't mind that at all. We can try and think of a date that works for both of us…" You suggested.

"Well, on Wednesday I'll be off, how about you?" Jay asked quickly.

"Oh no, that day I have somethings Platt wanted me to do. How about next Monday?"

"That's a no for me, 'cause I'm pulling doubles next week.*

"Damn…"

“Maybe this is a crazy idea but have you finished your report yet?” He asked quizzically.

“Uh, hitting the send button right now. Why?

“Then what if we do it now?”

“The date thingy?” You asked shyly, afraid that had been just a momentaneous thought that came out of his mouth too fast.

At that, he looked at you in awe, mesmerized by how adorable you were. “Yes. The date thingy.”

A million thoughts crossed your mind, including the one that that was a lifetime opportunity and that you should be better dressed, but figuring that saying something like that would only make you miss the opportunity, you settled for asking: “But where would we go? Like, it’s past 1 a.m., Jay, I don’t think there are a lot of places open…”

“Well, I might have a few ideas… Do you trust me?” He asked, holding his hand out to you, who grabbed it at the same time as you grabbed your jacket and purse with your other hand.

“Do you really need to ask that?"

And, like that, some time later you found yourself pulling up to the address Jay had texted you, which was in Canaryville, and it turned out to be an old movie theater that apparently was doing a week of classics with sessions at all times of the day. How Jay knew about that, though, was a mystery to you.

"Hey!" You heard him calling as he crossed the street. "You made a better time getting here than I did!"

"Yeah, well, my car might be faster than your old one," you replied, shrugging innocently.

"Haha, very funny," he deadpanned.

"Hey, this is a cool idea but how did you know it is happening?" You asked, genuinely curious. "I mean, you just don't seem a lot like a movie nerd to me."

"Well, there are still many things you don't know about me. But this one specifically is because I grew up around here and the owner is a friend of my family, so he always lets Will and I know about what's going on with the place."

"Hmmm, that explains it!" You exclaimed with a tad of satisfaction for not being too far off about him.

"But I do enjoy movies, okay?" You made a face of disbelief at him. To which he replied with: "It's true, alright? I'll admit that these days I haven't had much time for it but when I was growing up around here, this place was practically my second home!"

"Oh, so you've brought many others here, I'll assume!" You teased, suddenly feeling more comfortable and consequently more confident.

"Don't! Don't assume that! Growing up I wasn't very successful with the ladies and after that changed I haven't come here often…"

"Ooh, so that means that I'm your first?" You mocked, putting your hand to your heart, "Wow, I'm truly touched now!"

"Yeah, sure, have your fun with me all you want! All I really care about is the fact that I finally managed to get you to go out with me, so I can only hope you'll enjoy yourself." Him saying that, while gazing so intently at you, was making you weak on your knees and got you blushing a bit as well. So you tried to get the attention off you.

"Okay! Then let's pick a movie and watch it already, 'cause tomorrow's probably not gonna be any shorter."

A couple of hours later you and Jay were walking down the street towards a Waffle House while chatting and laughing about the movie like two best friends, which felt really nice but also made you a little confused about the being a date of that date the two of you were on. But, after you both had cleaned your plates at the diner, Jay came onto your bench to clean the corner of your mouth with a napkin, and next thing you knew, you were kissing very passionately in public like a couple of teens, forgetting about the rest of the world altogether, which made you realized, once more, how dull and colorless your life was previous to that moment so you held on to it and you held on to the man behind it.

#one chicago #chicago pd #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead one shot #jay halstead #jay halstead fanfic #fluff #fanfiction #one shot #fanfic #imagines #one chicago imagine #jay halstead x y/n #one chicago x reader #jay halstead fluff #jay halstead imagine #fluff overdose #baby jay #jay hasltead x you #reader insert #one chicago imagines #one chicago fanfiction #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader

[luvangelbreak]

Deprived | Fourteen

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: swearing, smutty smut smut, oral (fem!receiving / male!receiving), fingering word count: 3.6k a/n: i kinda went off with this one?? i kinda fucking ate??? i actually am so proud of this chapter????

pov: layla

I don't know what was going through my head. I didn't understand why I was doing what I was doing. I never wanted to be this close to someone, figuratively and literally, but something felt different about Matt. He gave me something I had never felt before and I couldn't figure out what it was.

I hated it at first, it made me never want to see him again. But instead, I felt myself drawn towards him soon after our drive to McDonald's. His sense of naivety, innocence and pure love for the world made me want to protect him from it. I knew I would destroy it if I stuck around too long but selfishly, I wanted to be the one to show him what life was like outside of his beautiful little bubble.

So I popped it and leaned in to place my lips against his. He didn't move for a moment and I thought I had made the wrong move, maybe he didn't want this. But then that feeling washed away when his mouth moved against mine gently, his lips sliding against my own in a soft and caring manner.

It was like that for a moment, soft and delicate just like he was. But there was a switch, a moment of passion and adrenaline between us and I moved to straddle his waist, a heavy breath leaving his lips when I did so. He placed his hands on my waist, gentle fingertips gripping the warm skin of my hips so softly as if he thought I would break if he pressed too hard.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, sliding myself forward as I tangled my hands in his brown curly hair. I couldn't stop myself, my body felt like it was out of my brain's control as I pressed my body against his further as our mouths moved in sync. I'd kissed people before, I'd been this close physically to someone before, but it never felt like this.

There was always a disconnect, a gap no one could ever quite fill. There was never a passion, a longing to hold someone so tightly as if you were scared they would slip away at any moment until this point in time.

I rolled my hips forward over his own, a groan emitting from his mouth that ignited a fire in my stomach that I couldn't ignore any longer. I repeated my actions and I felt his hands gripped my hips ever so slightly tighter.

"Layls," he mumbled breathlessly against my lips and I barely pulled away, still rolling my waist back and forth against his.

"What is it, pretty boy?" I asked softly, catching his lips in mine again quickly before I pulled back again, this time opening my eyes to see his cheeks had a tint of pink across them, his lips slightly puffed.

"Are- are you sure this is okay?" he asked quietly and I smiled at his genuine concern before I nodded.

"Mhm. Are you okay with this?" I asked in the same hushed tone, using my fingernails to scratch the nape of his neck lightly and he nodded, "I need words."

"Yes," he answered quickly before leaning forward, connecting his lips with mine again. There wasn't a hesitance to his actions anymore, his hands gripping my sides unapologetically as his hips began rolling into my own.

A whine escaped from my lips as he squeezed my hips and I felt him smile against my lips, the heat building between my thighs as every second passed. I pulled his bottom lips between my teeth, biting down lightly, a hum emitting from him. I kissed him gently again before biting his lip ever so slightly harder eliciting a moan from his lips.

I pulled back and looked down at him, a smirk on my lips as I said, "Matthew Sturniolo, do you have a pain kink?"

"A little," he answered quietly, looking up at me with dilated pupils as his eyes glazed over with lust and a smile on his lips.

"Cute," I mumbled as I leaned forward, placing my lips on his and he melted into me again.

I began grinding my hips against his again and he let out a small, "Fuck."

"Matt," I breathed heavily as I continued kissing him, "You don't have to be so gentle."

"I don't wanna do something you don't like," he responded quietly, placing a kiss on my lips as our breathing got heavier.

"I'll tell you if I don't just please..." I trailed off as I tugged on the hairs on the nape of his neck and I moved to trail kisses down his jawline before I whispered in his ear, "Touch me."

That was all he needed before the switch flipped in his brain, his hands travelling from my waist to grab my ass roughly. I let out a heavy breath, still trailing kisses down his neck before I sucked on the skin just below his jaw. He let out a groan and unexpectedly I was flipped over onto my back, a gasp leaving my lips from the sudden movement.

He sat between my legs, leaning up to slide his shirt off of his head and I stared at his torso in awe. I never got sick of looking at him and I'd spend all day just staring at him if I could.

"You okay?" he asked while crawling over me, placing his hands on either side of my head and I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him down to my lips again.

He trailed his right hand down to my waist, gripping it lightly before his hand slowly made its way up my shirt. He smiled against my lips when he reached my chest, realising I wasn't wearing a bra.

"Can I take this off?" he asked against my lips, tugging on my shirt lightly and I nodded. He leaned back and I gripped his forearm to pull myself up. He grasped the hem of my shirt, sliding it up my body at a teasingly slow pace as I lifted my arms up, allowing him to pull it over my head before throwing it onto the bed beside us.

I fell back onto the bed and I looked up to see him staring at me below him. Instinctually, I covered my chest and stomach with my arms but Matt reached his hands forward, gently grabbing my wrists and pulling my hands away from my body slowly.

"Don't hide from me, pretty girl," he whispered as he leaned forward gently trailing kisses down my neck as I tilted my head to the side to give him more access. He made his way down to my chest, looking up at me as if to study my reaction as he kissed between my boobs making me shudder.

He pecked kisses all over my chest as I tried to steady my breathing. I felt slight anxiety being so exposed to him, the vulnerability making me feel uncomfortable but I didn't want him to stop. I let out a whine as he wrapped his mouth around my left nipple, using his hand to knead my other boob. I tilted my head back, my hands finding their way to his hair before tugging on it slightly making him groan around me.

As he sucked and licked my chest, I shifted on the bed. The ache between my legs was becoming unbearable as he began lowering himself further, kissing down my stomach and I sucked in my stomach subconsciously. He paused, looking up at me as I let go of his hair.

"Why are you doing that?" he asked softly and my eyebrows furrowed.

"Doing what?" I questioned back and he placed his palm on my stomach.

"You don't have to suck in your stomach, pretty girl. I think you're beautiful just the way you are," he looked at me with a soft smile and I sighed, letting my stomach return back to its normal shape. He smirked up at me before trailing kisses along my waist. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts before mumbling, "Can I take these off?"

"Please," I pleaded, lifting my hips up to show my urgency. He chuckled as he leaned back further, pulling my shorts down before I kicked them off my feet. He leaned back over me, placing his left hand beside my head to hold himself up as he kissed my lips again.

He suddenly cupped my pussy with his right hand over my underwear making me moan into his mouth. He began circling my clit painfully slowly and I bucked my hips upward to make him hurry up.

"So impatient," he mumbled against my lips before he pulled his hand away making me whine from the loss of contact. He continued kissing me before he slid his thumb on the inside of the waistband of my underwear making me shudder. He teasingly dragged his thumb against my skin before he pulled back from me, sitting back on his heels to look down at me.

He hooked his hands inside the waistband, looking at my face for any sign to stop as I shifted under him. He pulled my underwear over my legs at a slow pace before I kicked them off my feet like I'd done with my shorts moments prior. I clenched my thighs together, insecurity flooding me again and he ran his hands along my thighs. Wettness was pooling between my legs so much that I was convinced I was dripping onto the sheets below me.

"You okay?" he asked while squeezing the flesh of my thighs in his palms and I nodded, "Words, baby."

"I'm okay," I mumbled, still holding my thighs together as I placed my arms over my stomach, "I'm just completely naked and you're still in jeans."

"You want me to take 'em off?" he asked, a smirk on his lips once more and I nodded quickly. He began unbuttoning his jeans while looking into my eyes as I breathed heavily. He undid the zipper before pulling them past his waist, sliding them over his knees and kicking them off his feet. My eyes trailed down his body seeing the imprint of his dick through his black boxers making me bite my lip. His hands travelled back down to my thighs, gently pulling them apart before he stared down at my pussy.

"Don't just stare at me. Do something," I demanded impatiently and he chuckled, shuffling down so his head was between my thighs as he lay on his stomach. He trailed kisses down my thighs, sucking and biting at them every now and then as I whined, "Matt."

"What is it, pretty girl?" he mumbled against my skin and I threw my hands back, balling the sheets between my fists.

"Please. I need you to do something," I asked quietly and he chuckled against my thigh. The scruff on his cheeks brushed against my thigh as he made his way down to my core, wrapping his arms around my thighs to hold them in place.

He licked a stripe up my core making me whine loudly from the sudden friction. That was all the confirmation he needed before he wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking and licking softly as moans tumbled from my mouth. I moved my right hand to his hair, tangling it between my fingers as my hips shifted to grind against his face.

I tugged on his hair roughly eliciting a moan from his mouth that travelled straight to my clit, the vibrations making another loud moan fall out of my lips.

"Fuck, Matt," I panted as I tilted my head back, my back arching in pure pleasure. The hair on his cheeks added to the sensory overload I was feeling, my thighs clenching around his head making him hum against me. He removed his hands from around my thighs, one of them reaching up to grab my boobs roughly as the other joined his face between my legs.

He slowly inserted a finger into my pussy making me pull on his hair once again as he moaned into my clit again. He began pumping his finger in and out of me slowly as he pulled his mouth away to look up at me, his chin dripping with my wetness making him somehow look even sexier than before.

He ran his tongue across his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth and my breathing became more rapid. He carefully added another finger and I clenched around him as he looked down at my pussy in awe. He let go of my boob, quickly finding my hand that was gripping the sheets beside me and threaded our fingers together before his head dipped back down to my core.

The sensation of his hand in mine, his hair running against my thighs as his mouth worked on my bundle of nerves while his fingers quickened their pace made the knot in my stomach tighten and I knew I wouldn't last much longer.

"Matt," I moaned out as I pulled on his hair even tighter as he hummed against me, "I'm gonna-"

My words were cut off by a moan and I squeezed his hand tightly. I pulled his head impossibly closer towards me as his tongue swirled my clit rapidly and I let incomprehensible noises fall from my mouth.

"You wanna cum, baby?" he mumbled against me, the vibrations adding to the pleasure even more.

"Uh-huh," I panted, my hips shifting as I came so close to my high.

"Cum for me, pretty girl," he demanded as he went impossibly faster on my clit, his fingers feeling like heaven inside of me. It pushed me over the edge, finally reaching the climax I had been chasing.

"Fuck, Matt!" I yelled as my thighs squeezed around his head as he worked me through my high. My legs shook uncontrollably around him and he moaned against me, rutting his hips into the mattress below him. He slowed his pace as I clenched around his fingers, my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

I let go of his hair as he carefully pulled his fingers out of me before placing one last kiss on my clit making my body jerk at the sudden contact again. He kept his other hand in mine as he moved to kneel between my thighs again, bringing his fingers between his lips and sucking them clean.

How does he get hotter with everything he does?

He crawled back over me, placing a gentle kiss on my lips before smiling against them, whispering, "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

I smiled against him, tasting myself as I ran my tongue along his lips before I let go of his other hand, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer.

"My turn," I mumbled against his lips before I pushed him onto his back and I climbed on top of his thighs. He let out a huff from the unexpected movement.

"Layls, you don't have to-"

"I want to," I cut him off as I ran my hands along the soft skin of his chest. Although I was sweating, my nipples were rock hard from the cold air and I bit my lip looking down at him, "I wanna make you feel good. Please."

He smiled up at me before nodding and I pursed my lips, hiding the shit-eating grin that threatened to cover my face as he said, "Just know I don't expect you to."

I let the grin now cover my face from his sweetness and I nodded before saying, "Tell me if you don't like anything I do."

"I like everything you do," he replied smoothly making me shake my head before I shuffled down, hooking my hands under the waistband of his boxers. His chest rose and fell rapidly as I slowly pulled the boxers down his thighs, his dick springing out and hitting his stomach from how hard he was.

"Fuck," I whispered to myself as I looked at the length in front of me, not realising how big he was until now. I moved off of his lap, sliding his boxers off of his legs and onto the floor before I grabbed his knees, sliding them apart.

I moved to kneel between his legs which were still flat on the bed as I felt him observe every move I made. I felt the wetness pool between my legs again just from looking at him splayed out on the bed. My eyes locked with his and I smiled, a giddy feeling arising in my stomach. His mouth was hung open, his eyes filled with lust making me want to pleasure him even more.

I shuffled down even further, carefully wrapping my right hand around the base of his dick making him hiss from the sudden contact. I slowly began pumping him in my hand as I shuffled back, bending forward to give him the perfect view of my ass.

I paused the movement of my hand, licking a stripe from the base of his dick all of the way to the tip making him whine as he clenched his eyes closed, balling the sheets in his fists as if to contain himself. I kissed his tip, a whimper falling from his lips before he looked down at me. I opened my mouth, looking up at him as I began taking his tip into my mouth, my tongue swirling around it teasingly before I pushed my head down. He hit the back of my throat and I closed my eyes, thankful my gag reflex was practically nonexistent.

A moan escaped his lips as I bobbed my head up and down, my hand working on the rest of his length that I couldn't fit into my mouth. His hips jerked forward, his tip hitting the back of my throat roughly and a choked moan left his mouth.

"Fuck, sorry," he mumbled and I looked up to see an apologetic look on his face, letting me know he didn't mean to move his hips. I pulled back, spitting into my palm before working my hand around him faster as he panted heavily, whimpers and whines leaving his lips desperately.

I swiped my thumb over his tip, a loud moan leaving his lips involuntarily as he bucked once again. I smiled at him as he tilted his head back, his jaw clenching. I continued pumping his dick quickly, running my hand over his tip every now and then eliciting a moan from him every time.

I let my hand go from around him, placing it on his stomach as I leaned forward. I kissed his tip before I forced my mouth down on him, taking him fully as I felt him bulge in my throat. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as they began watering, the sensation winding me up once again.

"Fuck!" he yelled, gripping my hair roughly making me moan around him as he began guiding my head over his length. Unimaginable noises emitted from his throat as he gripped my hair, sliding me up and down his dick with ease.

I let him use my head however he wanted, going as fast and rough as he needed to feel good. I quickly tapped his stomach and he loosened his pressure on my hair, allowing me to come up for air as I used my hand to pump him again.

"You feel good, pretty boy?" I panted, catching my breath the best I could as he nodded, catching his own breath before I pushed my head back down, taking him down my throat once again and he moaned so loudly I wouldn't be surprised if the whole neighbourhood could hear him.

"I'm gonna cum," he said so quickly I almost didn't catch it and I quickened my pace as he whined loudly. He gripped my hair tightly making me moan around him.

"Oh god," he moaned loudly before I felt a warm liquid coat my mouth and I continued to work around him, slowing my pace so he didn't get overstimulated too quickly, "Oh my fucking god, Layla."

I pulled him out of my mouth with a pop before I swallowed the cum, some of it dripping from the side of my mouth. He let go of my hair, reaching his hand around and wiping the liquid from the side of my mouth. I grabbed his wrist, pulling it toward me before I slid his thumb into my mouth, sucking on it gently as he looked at me in awe.

I pulled his thumb out and he smiled at me as I crawled forward, laying down on his chest as my legs fell between his. I placed my hand on his chest before putting my chin on the back of my hand, looking up at him with a smile as he caught his breath.

"You will be the death of me, woman," he mumbled with a dopey smile and I giggled at him, pushing a few pieces of hair out of his face with my other hand.

"You're welcome," I smiled up at him and he wrapped his arms around my back, pulling me tight against him. He swirled my lower back with his thumb gently before I leaned up, placing another kiss on his lips. I pulled the covers over our naked bodies despite the fact we were both warm from our activities but I wanted to keep his warmth on me as long as possible.

"If you stay on me like this, I'll get hard again," he smirked as he looked down at me and I smiled, shrugging my shoulders.

"I won't be mad if you do," I giggled to myself, the dopamine of my high still travelling through my brain as he pulled a hand up, brushing my hair behind my ear gently.

"You're so cute," he whispered as he leaned forward, placing a kiss on my forehead and I closed my eyes contently, hoping I could stay in this moment forever.

tags:

@ilovechrissturniolo1 @sturnfix @lilsstvrn @sturniololol @sturniolowhore @dsturniolo @chrisstankyleg @lov3bug @pinklittleflower @thatcrazybitch-69 @trinity2058 @alorsxsturn @leprechaunbirthdaygirl

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #sub matt sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut #the sturniolos #smut

[fluentmoviequoter]

Family Name

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader (reader was in the Army and SWAT in Central City)

Summary: After ten years away, you return to Gotham. When you discover you know the true identity of the Joker, you join Batman's fight to save Gotham.

Warnings: angst, fluff, vague references to several DC Comics movies and timelines, murder (I can't get too specific about the murder warning without spoiling a plot point, but there is a friendly fire aspect and an assassination by a sniper)

Word Count: 6.6k+ words

A/N: This is my first time writing for Bruce Wayne (or at least posting it lol) so he may be OOC. I actually wrote most of this a year ago and just put the finishing touches on it, so I'm not sure if it's worth reading. Feel free to let me know what you think and send any Bruce Wayne requests you have so I can keep practicing for him! (If you want a specific characterization/actor let me know.)

The map that I used as a reference while writing is included at the end!

Masterlist | DC Masterlist | Request Info

Gotham is still cold, wet, and smelly. Some things never change, no matter how hard a certain vigilante tries. It’s been nearly ten years since you last set foot in Gotham, and things have changed. For better or worse? Who can tell?

It is raining as you walk out of the train station on the outer border of Gotham City. You shiver and pull your jacket closer to your body as the cold drizzle starkly contrasts the sunny Central City you came from. You hail a cab and tell the driver the address of your temporary apartment. The news station on the radio catches your attention, and the driver turns it up when you ask.

“After a fearsome showdown last night with the Joker, who is still missing from Arkham Asylum, the Batman has been spotted in downtown Gotham. The GCPD is on high alert following several tips of illegal business at the Iceberg Lounge,” they report.

“You new in town?” the driver asks.

“Not exactly. I haven’t been here in years though,” you explain.

“Then you’re new. This is a whole new Gotham. Just stay on the good side of the Batman and you’ll be fine, kid. This is you.”

After paying the driver and pulling your bags from the trunk, you stand on the sidewalk and look up at the place you now call home. The apartment building is old but in decent condition. Especially considering where it is. As the rain grows heavier, you move inside, climbing the stairs to the third floor and entering your apartment. The unit came furnished, so you only have some clothing to unpack. You start a list of the housewares and cleaning supplies you’ll need to buy. Walking around the living room, you notice the cable is hooked up and turn on the television. The local television channels are either out because of the rain or playing broadcasts of last night’s story. Any background noise will do, you suppose, as you leave a news channel on and begin unpacking and cleaning with what little bit of supplies you have.

After cleaning, you take a break and fall back onto the couch. The news is still on, and a face flashes across the scene, filling you with an odd sense of recognition. You lean forward to get a better view before exclaiming, “No way.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“When did you come back?” someone asks as you enter a small department store.

Looking up, you smile when you see a familiar face. “Barbara, hey! Last night. Been in Central City for too long.”

“Should have stayed there,” she says, laughing humorlessly. “Gotham is quite literally the most crime ridden city in the world now. It’s on the sign and everything. At least in Central you have a vigilante to protect you.”

“So does Gotham,” you point out. “He’s all over the news.”

“Yeah, we do. But for every criminal he puts in Arkham, ten more pop up.”

“Is your dad still a cop?”

“He’s the commissioner now. Actually…” She pulls a card out of her wallet and hands it to you. “Call him if you ever get in trouble. Be careful, okay? This isn’t the Gotham you remember.”

“I will. Thanks.”

You watch her leave before you begin shopping for the items on your list. After shopping, you are back in your apartment, cleaning and organizing. The Gotham News has more showtime than Hannah Montana in the 2000s. You find yourself invested in every story they present. Maybe this isn’t the Gotham you remember, but it is still Gotham and your home. If this city needs help, you'll offer everything you have.

“Citizens of Gotham, I am Police Commissioner James Gordon. Regarding the recent red alert at Arkham Asylum, the GCPD is urging residents to stay indoors, lock doors and windows, and most importantly, stay calm. We are not sure at this time how many, if any, patients escaped the asylum. Anyone with information is encouraged to contact crime stoppers at 800-”

You mute the television and look at your closet. An armour-plated uniform hangs front and centre, practically begging you to put it on and fight for your home. If Barbara doesn’t think Batman can handle all the criminals, maybe he would appreciate a little help.

“Don’t be stupid,” you chastise yourself, still looking at the closet. A few minutes later, you find yourself standing in front of the closet, thinking, “But you have the training.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Gotham looks much darker from a rooftop. You find a lookout spot a few blocks from Arkham, assuming anyone who escaped will have to pass you eventually.

“Oh, sweet Gotham! Riddle me this!” a high-pitched voice calls. A moment later, you see a man dressed in a green suit entering the alley below you.

“Now or never,” you whisper as you move toward the edge.

“The more of it there is, the less of all you see. What is it?” Riddler asks.

“Darkness,” you answer as you grab his shoulders.

You pull him backwards and knock him to the ground. His breath rushes out at the impact, and you bring your elbow down to his face, rendering him unconscious before he can catch his breath. The burner phone you bought earlier is programmed with James Gordon’s number in it.

“Gordon,” he answers.

“Riddler is unconscious in the alley at Tomlinson and Pygall,” you say lowly, hoping your voice is disguised enough, before hanging up.

Your attention is ripped away from the unconscious criminal as a silhouette of a bat floats across the sky.

“There’s hope yet, Gotham,” you say, smiling.

✯✯✯✯✯

It seems as though you are better at vigilantism than you expected. Everywhere you go, Batman is either already there or crosses your path. He has yet to see you, that much is sure. Lurking on a dark rooftop, you hear the telltale sign of his grappling hook and are a second too late in realizing he is moving onto the same roof as you.

“So, you’re the one who’s been stealing half my jobs?” he asks, walking toward you.

“You seem busy, thought you might like some help,” you respond, shrugging as you change your voice again.

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the thought. But you need to go home. This is dangerous and you could get hurt.”

You internally roll your eyes at his obvious arguments. “So could you.”

“Doesn’t matter if I get hurt.”

“Me neither. Any idea how many more of them are out there?”

Batman sighs and turns away from you to look over the city. “One or two,” he answers. “The city got lucky; Joker was in solitary and didn’t get out.”

You nod to yourself, moving toward the edge as you ask, “Why does it seem so easy to escape Arkham?”

“Poor security, not enough staff, an old building. The list is endless. Every time someone tries to strengthen it, a stronger foe comes along and breaks it again.”

You’ve been doing this a long time.”

“Yet nothing’s changed.”

A sound behind you stops your answer. Turning toward the sound, you launch yourself onto the fire escape, ignoring Batman’s pleas to stop. 

“Whoa,” you breathe, looking at the plants growing in the alley. 

“You’re not the Bat,” Poison Ivy, whose news special aired last night, says. “You’d look much better in green than him.”

“Every plant I’ve ever owned has died. It’s one of my talents,” you taunt before throwing a canister from your belt. 

“It won’t work, Buttercup. I’ve been tear gassed many times.”

“It’s not just tear gas,” you call as the plants begin to wither. “It’s concentrated sulfur dioxide. Deadly to plants and debilitating to people.”

She coughs several times before falling. An arm wraps around your waist, and you are hoisted through the air before landing on a rooftop. 

“What was that?!” Batman demands.

“Sulfur dioxide.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it! You can’t just run around taunting criminals in a mask. What if that hadn’t worked and she had hurt you?”

“She didn’t. Besides-“

“No! You don’t get to justify this.” He keeps talking, and you feel like you have heard him before. You watch him closely as he continues berating you. 

“This is not a game. Do you understand that?” Bingo. You smile at him, his chest heaving as he prepares to yell at you again.

“You’re still really protective,” you say lightly. 

Batman turns toward you quickly, shaking his head before asking, “What?”

“In middle school you wouldn’t let me jump from the top of the swing set. Just funny that you’re still so protective when you risk your life every single night.”

“What are you talking about?”

You move toward the edge of the building and look over your shoulder at him. 

“Goodnight, Bruce.”

Batman runs to the edge after you jump, but the alley is empty. 

“Alfred,” he calls into his earpiece. 

“You’ll figure it out, sir. Eventually.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Didn’t I tell you to stay home?” Batman asks as he walks up behind you. 

“No. You told me I couldn’t run around taunting criminals in a mask. Which, by the way, I have some questions about. Can I walk and taunt criminals in a mask or is it the taunting that’s the problem?” you tease, looking up at him from your crouched position. 

“Ha ha,” he deadpans. “I’ll give you a pass for the other night, but you need to go home. Right now. I’m not letting you get hurt for this.”

“Then don’t. Watch my back and I’ll watch yours.” You extend your hand for a handshake as you stand. 

“No deal. Go home.”

“I’m not going home. So, stay with me and we can help each other or I’m going to go hunt him down on my own.”

He narrows his eyes at you before sighing and shaking your hand. 

“Why are you smiling?” he asks as he releases your hand. 

“We always were a pretty good team.”

You see the moment of recognition as his jaw drops under the cowl. He recovers quickly and points at you. 

“Ground rules. Number one: you don’t engage. Two: stay hidden. Three: run if things go south.”

“Got it. Be boring,” you relay. 

“This is not the time for jokes. Our lives are on the line. You don’t even have a good reason to be here.”

“Yeah I do.”

“Please enlighten me,” Batman prods impatiently. 

You can tell he is mad you were here and are not listening to him. Too bad, Bats, you think. Gotham is your home, too, and you aren’t going to let it fall into the hands of some crazy clown or any other criminal. 

“But before you tell me that, tell me what makes you qualified to be out here.”

“Look at me. Armoured uniform, tear gas, I’m a CCPD jacket short of official.”

“You’re CCPD?”

“I was. SWAT officer for five years after I got out of the Army. But I grew up here and I’m not letting this city go without a fight.”

“Why this fight? The one criminal we haven’t been able to stop for almost a decade?”

“Because...” You look up at him and smile. “I know who he is.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Thank you, Batman,” Commissioner Gordon says, shaking Batman’s hand. “We’ll get him in solitary.”

“Thanks, Jim,” Batman replies. 

“Who’s your new helper? Everyone at the station is talking about the reaper that popped up and knows how to take them all down.”

“An old friend. Try to keep them in a while longer this time, will you?”

Commissioner Gordon turns around to see Batman is gone. “We’ll try,” he mumbles into the dark. 

✯✯✯✯✯

The next night, Batman is gone. You don’t so much as see his shadow all night. There is only one criminal out; maybe they’re all on vacation, too. Killer Croc used Arkham’s sewer system to escape and pop up downtown. It was a long and tiresome fight, but you got him on the ground, and the GCPD took it from there. You finally reach the rooftop, preparing to cross them to go home, but don't make it far. Hitting the roof, you feel pain shoot through your ribs. After running your hand across the area, your skin is stained red. Great, you think. 

“What were you thinking?!” Batman reprimands you as he appears and kneels beside you, pulling items from his utility belt. 

“Mostly about what I was going to eat for dinner,” you joke, hissing when the antiseptic hits your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” Batman says quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy. At least it wasn’t my neck this time.”

“I told you not to use your belt to traverse the jungle gym,” Batman mumbles. 

“So, you do remember me,” you say happily.

“You’re still an idiot with a death wish.”

“And you’re still Mother Hen Bruce.”

“This’ll help for now,” he says, helping you stand up and hooking his arm under your shoulders. “But I’m taking you back to the cave to get you checked out.”

“Didn’t do enough checking out in high school?” you slur before passing out.

“Alfred, we’re inbound,” he says into his microphone. 

“Glad to see blood loss doesn’t dampen her sarcasm,” Alfred responds, “I’ll be ready.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“What did you mean you know who he is?” Bruce asks. 

You blink several times to make sure you aren’t imagining him. He looks different than the last time you saw him. Without the mask, he’s more like the Bruce you grew up with, just older and barely holding Gotham together.

“You got hot,” you say without thinking. 

“Thanks. Now tell me what you meant.”

“That I know who he is?” you clarify, standing up. 

“Please stay down,” Alfred chides as he returns with tea. 

“Thanks, Alfred. Good to see you again.” You smile as you accept the tea. 

“You as well. Now take it easy. You should be battle ready in a day or two but that’s only if you rest properly.”

“No, you will not be battle ready. There is no more battle for you,” Bruce adds. 

“You know I’m not going to listen and if you tell me no I’ll just do it myself.”

“We’ll have this conversation later. For now, tell me what you know about Joker.”

“Okay. He’s my uncle. Like twice removed, or-“

“There’s no way you’re related to that monster,” Bruce interjects. 

“I’m not, really. We’re related by marriage. His aunt or somebody else married my cousin and I happened to meet him a few times. Fate, I guess.”

“Do you know his name?” 

“No. Everyone in the family called him J. I thought his name started with a J but see now that it’s because he’s cuckoo for cocoa puffs.”

Bruce chuckles and shakes his head before turning serious again. “Are you really okay?”

“I’m great. Thanks for the assist.”

“I’m glad you’re back. Even if you are endangering yourself and ignoring everything I say.”

“Me too.”

“But Alfred’s right. You need some rest. We can finish this conversation later.”

“I can go home,” you say, standing up.

You stumble slightly, and Bruce catches you, holding you upright against him. 

“Can you?” he asks, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“I think I found something,” you cheer when Bruce answers the phone. 

“Where are you?”

“My apartment. It’s by Sacred Heart.”

The line goes silent, so you say Bruce’s name. 

“You’re living by the Narrows? I thought you just went out there to fight.”

“It’s a fine building. I’m not in the Narrows.”

“No but you’re between Crime Alley and Arkham Island. You need to find a new place. Now.”

“I can’t afford anything else, Bruce. It was this or Slaughter Swamp.”

“Pack your essentials. I’ll be there in twenty.”

He hangs up, leaving you with a dozen questions. However, you know he means what he says, so you pack the stuff you can’t live without and are ready to go when he shows up twenty minutes later. 

“You’re staying at Wayne Manor until we find you a new place.”

“That is not necessary.”

“It’s not just that this is close to the Narrows. We’re going after Joker, and I need to know you’re safe.”

“We’re not going after Joker,” you correct, “we’re finishing this.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bruce, I can’t find a marriage certificate. They may not have been married; maybe they were just living together or something and didn’t want to explain it to a kid,” you admit, disappointed in your lack of findings. 

“It’s okay. We will find something. And if we don’t, we can do it another way,” he assures. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“This is the fourth Arkham breakout in as many weeks. When do you sleep?” you ask. 

Alfred laughs faintly through the communications system. 

“During Wayne Enterprises meetings, usually,” Bruce answers. 

“I got one. Going dark,” you alert before jumping to meet Captain Boomerang. 

After a short fight which results in your earpiece breaking, Captain Boomerang is unconscious, and you prepare to call Gordon. 

“Ha ha ha ha,” an eerie voice cackles behind you. 

You freeze in place before turning slowly and coming face-to-face with the Joker. He knocks your helmet off in one swift move, and your face is now visible. 

“I remember you. My aunt married your second cousin. Horrible family you have. Or should I say had? Ha ha ha ha.”

“What do you want?”

“Is a family reunion not enough? No, I guess you’re right. I mean, marriages end so are we even related anymore?”

“We never were.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Reaper! You know everyone calls you that, don’t ya? Personally, I think it’s a bit morbid but to each their own. I also heard from a little bird that you’re working with the big, bad bat. I had such great hopes for you, and you let me down.”

“What do you want?” you repeat slowly. 

“To be family again,” he answers, smiling as he runs his fingers over your face and hair. 

“What about Harley? Isn’t she your family? You were all she could talk about the other night.”

“Not anymore. She settled for some used piece on her Suicide Suckers. But me and you? Me and you could be the dream team. The family to end all families.”

“I don’t want to be part of your family.”

“When I found out Harley was a harlot, you know what I said? I said I’d peel off her skin and put it on a new body. But I can’t imagine those words coming from her. So, from now on…” he moves his hand to rest in front of your throat as his smile drops. “If Harley wouldn’t say it, you don’t say it.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Alfred, where is she?” Bruce asks.

“Toxic Acres. She’s still not responding,” Alfred responds, watching your tracker blink in the same place for the fifth consecutive minute.

“I’m going after her,” Bruce declares.

“Be careful, Master Bruce.” Bruce doesn’t respond, and Alfred mutes the private connection as he watches Bruce’s tracker move toward yours. “And don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re making a mistake, J,” you hiss, the pressure of Joker’s hand on your throat making it hard, but not impossible, to breathe.

“No, they made a mistake,” he argues, moving his hand slightly as he steps back to look at you.

“Who?”

“Your family. All families. Everyone who treats people like outsiders.”

“You mean to tell me you’re doing this - all of this - because you never felt like you belonged in a family?”

“No!” Joker yells, leaning his weight against your throat as he smiles in your face. “Because no family has ever accepted me. I know I don’t belong, but everyone expects families to lie, right? Especially their own, but no, poor Joker always got told the truth! ‘You’re too strange,’ ‘You’re dangerous,’ ‘The kids are scared of you,’ yet no one ever offered to help me fit in.”

You raise your hands to his arm and claw at his skin, growing desperate for air as he rants. He looks over when your hits grow weaker and pulls his hand back. You fall to the ground, wheezing, as you try to take deep breaths. 

Holding your neck, you look up at him and ask, “Then what do you want?”

He kneels in front of you and holds a knife out in his hand. “I want you to find a family and make a Joker-sized hole for me to fill.”

Shaking your head, you argue, “I’m not like you. I won’t do that, J.”

He cocks his head as his smile falls. “Harley wouldn’t say that, would she? And, besides, you’re more like me than you think, aren’t you? And what’s more interesting is that I think you know it. We’re the same, you and I, whether you like it or not.” The knife is raised to your throat as he threatens, “Do it, or I will make another hole in your family.”

“Another?” you ask.

The blade presses against your skin, and you close your eyes, unwilling to give him the theatrics and attention he so desperately seeks. A grappling hook sounds somewhere above you just before the blade is removed from your throat. Joker’s words echo in your head, and your eyes stay closed. Someone gently touches your neck and your face, but you don’t open your eyes, in case it’s him trying to trick you. He does that; you remember that too well.

An arm loops around your waist as a hand pulls your arms over broad shoulders. Only when you’re flying through the air and clinging to him are you ready to admit that Bruce is saving you. Opening your eyes, you see Wayne Tower in the distance. You tighten your arms around Bruce’s neck, and his hand squeezes your waist in response. He lands on the roof of Wayne Manor and rushes into the Batcave.

“What did he do to you?” Bruce asks as he sets you on a medical exam table. The same table you sat on when he saved you after the fight with Killer Croc.

Bruce tries to step back, but you cling to him. He’s the only family you have left, and Joker opened an old wound with his talk of carving a hole in a family to fill himself. That’s what he tried to do with your family, but when he still didn’t fit, he kept carving.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whisper into Bruce’s suit.

Bruce’s arms wrap around you, pulling you to the edge of the table as he cups your head to his shoulder.

“I’m right here,” he soothes. “Not going anywhere.”

He holds you for longer than you realize; time slows down in Bruce’s arms. When you pull back, he cups your face in his hands and looks at you intently.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Not right now,” you whisper.

“That’s okay,” he promises, nodding.

“The guest bedroom has been prepared and dinner is awaiting you, Master Bruce,” Alfred calls, briefly appearing in the doorway of the Batcave.

“Can we talk about it in the morning?” you ask.

“Of course. Whenever you’re ready. And you’re staying here tonight.”

You don’t argue, nodding as you stand and follow Bruce upstairs. He shows you to a guest room with clothes, toiletries, and more books than you can count. Telling you to use whatever you want; he leaves to change before meeting you for dinner.

When you enter the bathroom to change into the clothes you found in the closet, you see yourself in the mirror. Mostly, you see the red line running across your neck. Joker has hurt more than enough people, you decide, and you meant what you told Bruce; you plan to finish this.

✯✯✯✯✯

Bruce sits up suddenly. The sun is coming through the cracks in his curtains, but something feels off. He pulls a shirt over his head and walks down the hall, knocking on the door to the guest room where you’re staying. After a moment of no answer, he lets himself in. There’s a note on the bed in your handwriting.

I can’t let him do it again, especially not to you. Please stay home tonight and let me finish this fight. I should have done it ten years ago, but I was scared and ran. This is my chance to make everything right. Please forgive me.

Bruce takes a deep breath, suppressing his urge to punch a hole in the wall. Alfred wouldn’t appreciate another one. He rereads the note, then goes downstairs for breakfast like everything is fine.

“Where is our guest?” Alfred asks when Bruce enters the dining room. “Resting, I hope.”

“She’s gone. She left in the middle of the night to, quote, finish a fight like she should have done ten years ago.”

Alfred’s eyes widen as he stops moving trays onto the table. “You’re going after her, then?”

“No, Alfred, I am not.”

Bruce picks up the paper, as nonchalant as ever, and more convincing than when he turns on his Brucie Wayne charm.

“Why ever not, sir?”

“She asked me not to. And after her reaction to me last night, I’m inclined to listen to her.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Bruce drops the paper and looks at Alfred. “I am going to do exactly what she said.” When the paper covers his face again, he adds, “For a while.”

“Good man,” Alfred mutters, returning to serving breakfast.

✯✯✯✯✯

Realistically, you know that breaking into Arkham and executing a patient isn’t the best idea, but it would solve the problem. However, there’s the downside of life in prison for first-degree murder that you’d have to contend with. Bruce would surely visit you, but you don’t want to lose him before you get him back.

Perched on a rooftop, you watch Arkham and hope your trap is being laid as planned. The security lights blink on seconds before the alarm sounds. If Arkham Asylum is good for anything, it’s the consistency of frequent breakouts. No matter who breaks out tonight, you’re prepared. All you have to do is convince them to lay a trap for Joker, convincing him that you killed someone, and then you can pounce. Watching the alley below you, you furrow your brows as you lean forward.

“Catwoman?” you ask incredulously.

She looks up, tilting her head at the sight of you. “Reaper?” she asks, sounding far too excited.

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Thieving, I presume?” She nods, and you lower yourself onto a fire escape before jumping to meet her. “There’s nothing here worth stealing.”

“Maybe.”

You clench your hands into fists and look down the alley.

“I think the better question is what are you doing here, Reaper? I’m not exactly in your demographic.”

Under your mask, you press your lips together and consider confiding in her. She cares about Batman as far as you can tell, so if you tell her Joker is planning to kill him (though, in reality, Bruce is his likely target), she may be willing to help.

“Batman dump you? He does that,” Catwoman hums.

“What? No, no, we’re not together like that.”

“Yet,” Catwoman interjects.

“Look, Joker is going to try to kill someone that I love. He’s already ruined my family forever.”

“You just moved here, who could you possibly love here? I thought I fell fast.”

“I grew up here, and-“

Your mind races as you remember that you haven’t been seen with Bruce since returning, but Joker has been out since then. Pulling the earpiece from your pocket, you hope someone is in the Batcave.

“Hello?” you ask into it, desperate and terrified for your family. “Take whatever you want,” you tell Catwoman when you don’t get an answer, “heck, take something for me too. But if you see Batman, tell him I’m looking for him?”

“Sure.” You move toward the end of the alley before Catwoman asks, “What should we call you?”

Smiling, you answer, “Reaper is growing on me.”

“Good luck, Reaper.”

You could have taken a grappling hook before you left Wayne Manor last night, but you were more concerned with Bruce’s safety than yours. Getting off of Arkham Island and into Gotham Heights will take too long on foot.

“Batman?” you ask, trying the comm again. “Anybody?”

“You called?”

You slide to a stop, nearly falling over, when you see Batman perched on a roof, looming like a gargoyle. He spreads his cape as he moves to the road before you. Looking down at you, though you can’t see his eyes, you know he’s trying to ensure you’re safe and unharmed.

“He’s going after Barbara. I thought he meant you, but he was out when I saw Barbara.”

“I’ll call Gordon. We need to get to Gotham Heights.”

“We’ll never make it in time. The alarm sounded twenty minutes ago.”

Bruce’s head turns toward you as he presses a button on his utility belt. The Batmobile turns a corner, coming to a stop beside you. Your eyes widen as the top opens, jumping in the passenger seat as you look at everything in awe.

“Barbara is stronger, and knows more than you think, but she can’t hold him off forever.”

You nod, prepared to do whatever you have to do. Even if it means making Bruce hate you.

“And I forgive you. Whatever you do, I understand,” Bruce says quietly. “Just- just remember that your actions affect more people than just you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s a trap. The driveway beside Barbara’s place is decorated like the cookout where you met Joker.

“Go check on Babs, I’m right behind you,” you tell Batman.

He hesitates, noticing exactly where your focus is, before tapping your shoulder and running toward Barbara’s door. When Batman is out of sight, Joker’s laugh surrounds you.

“Did you do it?” Joker asks, stepping out of the shadows.

“No.”

“Whyever not?” he asks with a laugh.

“Because I’m not a killer. We are not the same.”

“Come over here,” he demands. You listen despite your body’s urging to leave. “And give me a real reason,” he adds when you stop across a picnic table from him.

“That is the real answer. I will not do to another family what you did to mine. I’m not a killer.”

“Now, now, now, that’s not true.”

His eyes are fixed on your mask, likely imagining your furrowed brows and scared eyes. “Is the mask necessary, Reaper? We know one another. It’s just family here.”

You swallow as you rip the mask off, levelling your gaze on Joker, determined not to show him how affected he is.

“If you hurt her, I will end you.”

Joker flaps a dismissive hand. “She’s fine. I just needed a reason to celebrate, but you didn’t keep your end of the bargain.”

“I’m not-“

“A killer, yes, so you say. However, there’s a family out there that begs to differ.”

You lick your lips, unsure how he knows this. The record was redacted and eventually destroyed, so no one outside of your team at the time should know.

Joker’s laugh draws your attention back to him. “You are a killer. Just like me.”

Shaking your head, you flinch when Joker slaps his hands onto the table, leaning forward to get closer to you. 

“Joseph,” Joker whispers, smiling widely at your surprised movement.

Someone screams in the distance, and you remember your promise: to protect your home, no matter the cost. Unholstering the gun you hadn’t carried in years, you hold it to Joker’s forehead.

“Do it,” he begs, leaning against the barrel. “Show them how alike we are.”

Your arm shakes as you fight to do it. With a finger on the trigger, Joker should be gone already, but you can’t do it.

Lowering the gun, you sigh, preparing for Joker’s next idea or a surprise dose of his laughing toxin. He watches you until he reaches for something. Before you can lunge forward to stop him, a shot rings out in the Gotham night. You hear it as Joker jerks to the side, slumping to the ground. Turning toward the right, you search the skyline for the shooter. You see a familiar salute and laugh to yourself as the silhouette disappears.

 “Reaper!” Batman yells, rushing toward you. He slows as he sees you standing over Joker.

There’s a note, half blown apart. He took credit. You laugh again, oblivious to Batman’s concerned gaze on the back of your head. The laughter quickly turns to hiccups as you fight to remain composed. You walked out of Wayne Manor prepared to assassinate Joker. Now that you have essentially been an accomplice to his death and reminded of your worst mistake, you’re falling apart.

Bruce whispers your name, a hand on your arm as he turns you away. He raises a hand to your jaw as the first tear rolls down your cheek.

“I killed him,” you admit.

“No, you didn’t. That shot was too far away, no one will blame you.”

“I killed Joseph,” you repeat. “I didn’t see him, and there was so much fog and- I shouldn’t have taken the shot.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I left the Army and joined SWAT because I killed a civilian. I don’t know how Joker knew, but he was right. I am a killer.”

“Hey, hey.” When you don’t respond, Batman summons the Batmobile, whispering to Gordon on the phone as he helps you into the passenger seat.

Once you’re in Wayne Manor, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of Bruce’s shirts, he pulls you into his arms.

“You’re not like Joker, and you’re not a killer. Friendly fire is a terrible thing, but it’s not your fault. You can’t keep blaming yourself for that. Saving people has its costs, and if I could take the guilt from you, I would.”

“I don’t even know how it happened,” you confess, “I dream about it all the time, but I don’t remember actually pulling the trigger.”

“You may never know. But either way, you can forgive yourself and move on.”

Wiping under your eyes, you lean against Bruce’s chest as you ask, “What did Gordon say? How’s Babs?””

“Their ballistics team is examining the velocity and angle to find where the shot came from. Barbara didn’t even know anything was happening, she’s fine.”

“The roof of Verdant in The Narrows,” you whisper, laying an open hand over Bruce’s heart.

“That’s too far for a shot like that.”

“Not for Army snipers.”

“Friend of yours?”

“Used to be,” you shrug before adding, “Lawton started killing for money, and I couldn’t support that.”

“Wait,” Bruce interjects, pushing you back slightly, ducking to look into your eyes. “You’re telling me that Deadshot just killed Joker? For free?”

“He doesn’t do anything for free,” you answer, smiling. “But I didn’t pay him if that’s what you think. Besides, he left a calling card of sorts.”

“Not at all. Batman will call Gordon tomorrow and let him know.”

“What’s Batman doing tonight?”

“He’s on vacation,” Bruce sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. “And Bruce Wayne is catching up with an old friend.”

Smiling, you turn sideways to press your chest against Bruce, laying your arms over his shoulders.

“I think that sounds like a great night.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“I found something,” Bruce says, removing his cowl as you enter the Batcave.

“A life?” you joke.

“Ha. No, I had a friend of mine go searching for that destroyed Army record.”

“Why?” you ask quietly, wringing your fingers together.

“Because you didn’t kill Joseph. Your gun never went off, and the shot came from a different direction with a much higher velocity. This looked like sniper.”

“You think it was Lawton?”

“Wouldn’t be surprising.” Bruce tilts your head toward him and looks you in the eye to add, “But the important thing is that you have no reason to keep carrying that burden.”

“Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

“Come on patrol with me.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to get hurt.”

“You won’t. Not with me around.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, Bats.”

“Catwoman,” Batman answers.

“Reaper was looking for you a few nights ago.”

“Yeah, we ran into each other. Thanks, though.”

“She said you weren’t together like we were, but I find that very hard to believe.”

“Give them back,” you say, surprising both Catwoman and Batman.

“Give what back?” she parrots.

You hold your hand out. “The pearl necklace and earrings you stole. They’re not worth anything to the woman, but they’re sentimental.”

Catwoman huffs, pulling a small bag from her pouch and tossing it to you. “I chose them for you anyway.”

“What?”

“You said to steal something for you too.”

“I thought my best friend was about to get murdered, I didn’t mean it!”

“And did you mean what you said about not being with Bats here?” She places a hand on her hip, and you take the opportunity to look at Batman before answering.

“He’s just not my type,” you answer, shrugging one shoulder.

You see his jaw twitch before he nods his farewell to Catwoman.

“I didn’t mean it,” you whisper as you walk past him. “And we’ve got a crocodile to catch.”

Batman sighs. “Welcome to Gotham.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Whose are they?” Bruce asks as you examine the pearl jewellery.

“Mine,” you answer, not looking at him. “What are the chances she’d use my permission to thieve to rob me?”

“Not bad with Sel- Catwoman.”

“Selina Kyle, yeah, I know.”

“Sentimental, huh?”

You turn toward Bruce, passing him the necklace.

“I told your mom that I liked her pearls, like five months before she was killed, and the next day she surprised me. She picked me up from school and told me we were going shopping. They’re the cheapest ones the store had, but I’ve loved them ever since because they came from someone I loved and… I guess they made me feel a bit more like her, and she was amazing.”

When you look back at Bruce, he’s still holding the necklace, but his gaze is on you. He sets the necklace down, stepping toward you. Gripping your waist, he pulls you against him with a wide smile.

“You’re amazing too.”

“Not like her.”

“There’s no one quite like her. But she loved you too, more than you know. Actually, she thought we were going to get married,” Bruce adds, nudging his nose against yours.

“I did too,” you whisper.

Bruce kisses you quickly, pulling back to gauge your reaction.

“Based on the newspapers, I thought you’d be better than that,” you tease.

Bruce clicks his tongue before pulling you into another kiss. While he takes your breath, he fills you with love and hope. His hands keep you as close as possible, one sliding up to hold your head as he deepens the kiss, whispering something against your lips.

“Wait,” you mumble, moving your hands from his jaw to his chest. “What did you say?”

Bruce smirks, the charm that no one gets to see any more on display. “That I love you.”

Your eyes widen, and you grip his shoulders as you rise to kiss him, informing him that you feel the same. “I love you more,” you say against his lips, melting into him as you become one.

“My mom would want you to have her pearls,” Bruce whispers, rubbing his thumb in large sweeping motions against your upper hip. “And she’d want us to see where this goes.”

“Your mom was very smart,” you muse, putty in Bruce’s hands as he moves to the couch, tugging you into his lap.

“Did you love my mom enough to take her last name eventually?”

“This is more important – I love you enough.”

“Finally!” Alfred exclaims as he walks in with a tray of tea and biscuits. “It is about time you officially join the family and take the name.”

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batman x reader #batman fic #bruce wayne fic #dc comics x reader

[persephone11110]

Hold Me Baby

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: low self esteem, self-deprecating thoughts, shy reader, anxiety, protective bradley bradshaw , fluffy ending

Summary: Just when she was having a great night, her insecurities sweep in and destroy her self confidence.

reader nickname is Angel

this is short compared to my other fics.

———

It’s hard picking out a time when Bradley showed you he loved you. It could’ve been when he threw a punch across your ex-boyfriend face for being an asshole towards you. Maybe it been the time he nearly destroyed the vending machine in the break room in attempts to get you your honeybun that was stuck. Overall you can’t pinpoint the exact moment but all you knew is that your heart always beat a thousand times faster around him. You loved him, he loved you—end of story.

The only man to take the time to break the walls that were heavily secured around your heart. It was with a matter of seconds you knew you loved the man who sat behind Penny’s piano playing Great Balls Of Fire. At first you tried denying how much he made you blush, you even tried building your defenses higher around yourself —which didn’t help because he your weak spots. He knew how break through to you.

No matter how time you spent in your own head denying how much he loved you, Bradley would remind you—day and night.

You nervously sat at the circular table, examining how all the people that were in ball room looked like they actually belonged here. It’s another gala organized by the brass—were everyone shows up just to drink expensive alchol and eat expensive food. Talk shit about eachother.

But most importantly make great impressions on the brass or higher ups from around the world. Yet everyone blended in together like camouflage —talking and walking with confidence while you stood out like a sore thumb with your shyness, and lack of confidence.

Your sour thoughts were back.

“You don’t belong here Y/n. Never have and never will”.

Your weak spot was your eyes. Bradley told you once while laying in bed, about how much your eyes display every emotion you felt. Whether its fear, happiness or sadness and anger he always knew what you felt. As of right now insecurity reflected off them.

Its like a six sense for him–knowing when your weren’t okay even when you desperately tried hiding it. “I’ll catch you later Phoe, save me a beer”.

You were to busy being stuck in your own head.

You atleast needed to look perfect, for him and for everyone else. You nervously smooth your hands down your dress repeatedly—attempting to fix yourself. A mirror was in your hand as you looked at your makeup picking out a flaw in each and every part of your face. One word came to mind- “ugly”.

“Pretty”. his voice broke through her bad thoughts.

“Angel whats wrong?” You turned to see your night in shining armor standing there with a frown on his face. Anything that makes you upset whether it’s and object or person is easily a negative in Bradley Bradshaw eyes.

You tearfully chuckle“I’m fine Bradley—go back to your friends”. you told him.

“Y/N”, Bradley sounded so hurt. You hated how much pain you caused him.

Who were you kidding here?, it didn’t matter if you wore expensive dresses, did your makeup straight out of a vogue magazine. You still didn’t belong with him.

Two different streets that should have never connected.

“Angel” he you pulls to him, your face easily finds his chest. Bradley tried racking his brain attempting to figure what went wrong. Just half an hour ago there was a small smile placed on your face and now tears stain his suit jacket as it stains your face.

“‘You deserve someone on your level” your voice seemed to be muffled by his chest. His fist clench—he’s not angry at you but at the people who put those thoughts into your head. Bradley feels like his lips are going to bleed by the way he’s bitting them. Because he knew the words he wanted to say were not needed right now. His wife didn’t need to hear the threats that were on the tip of his tongue, but instead reassurance and love.

Bradley swears he heard you wrong. He thought maybe your true words were being muffled.

No there weren’t.

“What? Angel, what are you talking about?”

“I’m not good enough for you Bradley, me and you—and everyone else knows it”

You sniffle again.

It seemed like Bradley didn’t hear you—or maybe he realized its—

“Not true”, He simply shook his head as if everything you just said wasn’t true at all.

“Remember what I told you on our wedding day Y/N Bradshaw?”

You nod your head shakily. “I-I will always love you, now matter what happens there will never be a time I didn’t—”

“Love you, and cherish you” he recited with a smile on his face.

“Right?, so you do remember Angel”.

“Mhm” you mumble.

“Then you also know that vows are never to be broken, and you know how I don’t break promises—especially to the ones I love” He pulls aways to take his thumb across your face- wiping away the falling tears.“Don’t ever think you don’t deserve me Angel, sometimes I don’t even think I deserve you—" A small tear rolls down his face.

“I’m sorry Bradley”, your voice wobbles “I love you” you tell him without hesitation.

“Don’t be Angel, I love you too” he gently pulls you out his chest. “I think we should end our night with a dance— whaddya think Angel?”

“I think we should too” he pulls you by your hand to the dance floor.

“Hey Rooster you big stud”

#top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #top gun

[wofdesignhub]

I’m gonna draw a dragon again soon so quick rant

You know one thing I REALLY hate in wings of fire? There’s a tiny, little inconsistency throughout the books. And that’s the sizes of scavengers to the dragons. Because I’m just gonna say it here: the “canonical” size comparison such as the picture below makes NO SENSE considering how everything else is just conveniently a decent size for a dragon. And trust me, we WILL get to it being “canonical”

A mango can fit a dragons palm when it should clearly be tiny as the actual love I have for this book series. What about cows? How come they’re described to be massive enough to feed a whole dragon? They should be like a candy bar to those things! And don’t get me started on how completely unrealistic it is for a sloth to be big enough to wrap itself around a rainwing’s neck. Like that must be some pretty massive sloths around that should ABSOLUTELY be massive compared to a scavenger.

Also the funny part about that pic I showed you? Yeah well scrap that cuz that’s also pretty inaccurate. We were to believe in the VERY EARLY books that scavengers are like hamsters to dragons. Literally the size of their right toe. Also also the fact that Smolder is like 50 years old AND also also also the fact that dragons keep growing as they age, then that just tells us that these scavenger are way, WAY bigger to these dragons. Especially if Flower here is the size of his FOREARM!

“Oh, but the islands are more suited for dragons! Of course everything will be big!” You cry out! Yet it is implied that scavengers were the dominant race BEFORE The Scorching, and even if that was a whole lotta years ago, then that must’ve been the FASTEST evolution process in the south coast yet.

And it STILL gets worse! Scavengers, even after being concluded to be the size of hamsters to dragons, Tui is constantly and very much maliciously switching the sizes of these scavengers to fit the plot because she has never figured out what she ever wants. Winter keeps Bandit in what’s implied to be some.. hamster cage? Okay, so he must be pretty damn tiny, which makes some amount of sense considering he’s probably a… teenager… I mean, okay, sure, whatever, I’ll let it slide- wait! But so is Winter! Winter is bigger than Qibli, sure, but neither of them are any bigger than other fully grown dragons! Winter is a teenage dragonet! So how small is Bandit?? How small is he compared to a- and let me emphasize- a FULL GROWN DRAGON!!!?? What!!!

And by the way, have you SEEN the actual cover of Dragonslayer??? Look at that and TELL me how completely unrealistic it is if we are to believe scavengers are the size of a dragon’s forearm

Also also also ALSO in book 14 Daffodil is shown tossing and catching Bumblebee who had just hatched and this is just unnatural and biologically confusing to think about. HOW is Daffodil bigger than a newborn dragonet? And this makes even LESS SENSE when you realize that it’s been implied that a newborn dragonet is the same size as a regular sized scavenger ACCORDING to the fact that it’s really easy to pick up a baby dragonet by the hand COMPARED to the size of Flower to Smolder’s hand in the picture??? HOW? Tell me how, Tui!! How is this possible!! And don’t you dare tell me that “oh! Pantalan dragons are smaller than Pyrian!” Because that is just ludicrous to me. I will LAUGH at you if you tell me otherwise because that is just a cheap way to excuse any of this. There has NEVER been any quote of Luna or any other Silkwing, Hivewing, or Leafwing being significantly shorter than a Pyrian dragon. 

I should really cut to the chase but I’ve… never liked Tui’s writing. I don’t like that she avoids criticism of her writing. She has great ideas and is so creative in the world of WOF but for most works she’s either rushing it or coming up with something on the spot. And neither are good if they’re not thought out well enough! All of the endings to the arcs are bad and poorly thought out. The logic in how specific stuff works is just terrible. Arc 3 is just a NOTHING arc full of NOTHING characters (except maybe Snowfall and some of the Leafwings they’re… fine). I’m sorry but as much as I “pretend” to like WOF, and I REALLY mean it when I say “pretend”, but this book makes me get an aneurysm the more I really look deep into it. I am beyond terrified of looking into the guidebook because I KNOW there will be inaccuracies, confusion, and Tui slamming down whatever ideas she has without a second thought. I already know she put the weird and unnecessary mudwing mating rituals!!

Anyways, drawing that stupid blue and yellow rainwing later, I don’t want to go and look for her name now, goodnight everyone, don’t talk to me

#wings of fire

[bordysbae]

hey!!! it's me again :) i was just wondering if you could do a fic where the reader is trevor's sister, and she's with luke, but the fic is based on a combination on mine, stay stay stay, and that's the way i loved you by ms. taylor herself

ps. i actually love your writing sm 🫶

“my michigan boy”

luke hughes x zegras!sister

do you remember we were sitting there by the water, you put your arm around me for the first time.

as you and luke watch the sunset lower by the second, he wraps an arm around you as both of your guys’ toes dangle off of the dock. you rest your head on luke’s shoulder, embracing the final days of summer. the final days until you both head off to college, and before your guys’ brothers head back to california, new jersey, and vancouver.

“i’m gonna miss this, i mean i miss every summer spent at the lake house, but especially this one,” you state softly.

“and whys that?” luke mumbles, nearly lost in the orange and pink sky.

“because of us. it’s been too long of us just being awkward around each other, i’m glad we finally made it to where we are now. but it sucks, you’re staying in michigan for college and i’m going all the way to wisconsin”

“i know, but we’ll keep in touch, i promise. plus we’re both gonna see each other on winter break, and spring break too.”

“luke, it’s just that-“ you begin to say, but you’re cut off by trevor calling you both over to the fire pit to make s’mores with everyone. luke stands up and hurries over to make sure he gets a s’more, but you walk slow behind him. your older brother walks over closer, and grabs your attention by standing directly in front of you. “you okay?” he asks.

“yeah, just thinkin’”

“what about?”

“me and luke. we aren’t dating, but we’re definitely more than friends. anyone can see that, but we’re going away to college next week. there’s no point in dating, but i don’t want us to be left as nothing, y’know?”

“don’t date him, that’s a dumb idea. you��re going away to college, and you don’t want to be held back by a long distance relationship. plus luke is gonna be focusing on hockey. if you guys are really meant to be it’ll happen when it needs to,” trevor tells you.

“since when are you such a romantic,” you playfully elbow him, earning yourself a smack on the back of the head, “yeah yeah, shut up.”

and he says, “you look beautiful tonight.” but i miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain.

you and luke left things quiet in michigan. you never addressed the elephant in the room—the elephant being that you were both going away to college— so now you’re on a date with a guy you met at a bar last month.

“you look beautiful tonight,” he smiles, making you blush.

“oh thank you, aaron! you don’t look too bad yourself,” you smile, as you both head into the restaurant. aaron is sweet, but he’s just not luke. this is the second date, and he’s just careless in a way. he loves to talk about himself, and sure, he listens to what you have to say, but he doesn’t listen to the way luke did.

“what are your plans for winter break next week? you staying here?” aaron asks you, catching you off gaurd. he never really asks much about you, so you’re happy to be able to get some words in about yourself.

“oh! i’m going to michigan, my parents live there! i’m staying with my family friends at their lake house, which technically doesn’t serve the same purpose it does during the summer, but it’s always fun to go ice skating on the lake!”

“oh cool! i was hoping maybe we could hang out, but i guess i’ll just have to text you!” aaron chuckles, making you blush slightly.

it’s not that you don’t like aaron, you very much do, it’s just that he isn’t the same as luke. you and luke could talk about any and everything for hours, but with aaron it’s all just a little too unfamiliar for you. you even missed the fights you and luke would have. i mean sure, they sucked in the moment, but as soon as they were over, they were immediately forgotten. and then luke was your world’s axis again. he made your world spin.

you took the time to memorize me, my fears my hope and dreams. i just like hanging out with you, all the time

back in michigan, all is going well. you and luke are slightly awkward, since the tension from summer was never resolved, but you guys are still close as always. but what you didn’t expect to happen was for your brother to accidentally spill the beans about aaron, in front of everyone.

“ew, you still talk to aaron?” trevor exclaims, as he tosses your vibrating phone at you from from across the living room.

“who’s aaron?” quinn asks, pestering like the annoying boy he is.

“yeah y/n, who’s aaron?” luke questions, turning his head towards you. your heart begins to race.

“we went on a couple dates, that’s all,” you begin to explain, but before you can finish your explanation luke leaves the room. everyone’s eyes follow him as he exits, then they all turn back towards you with sheepish smiles. you sigh, and chase after luke. you hear him close the back door, so you go outside onto the deck. he’s sat under the awning, with his head resting upon his hands.

“luke, let me explain,” you sigh, as you sit next him.

“no don’t, it’s not like we were dating anyways. i mean we’ve both hooked up with other people while away at college, i don’t know why i’m upset. you don’t have to explain yourself, you did nothing wrong,”

“oh luke, yes i did. i knew all along that all i wanted was you, but i saw you going to these parties and shit, so i felt like i needed to move on too. i toyed with aaron’s feelings, just for it not to work,” you say, making luke look up from his lap at you.

“what are you saying?”

“that i love you, luke hughes,” you smile, making him blush.

“i love you too, y/n zegras,” he says, leaning in to kiss you. he cuffs your cheeks, as your hands make their way through his curly hair. suddenly luke pulls away and gasps, startling you.

“remember when you said you’ve always wanted to kiss someone in the rain? cmon!” he exclaims, immediately pulling you up from the small step, and into the pouring rain. your guys’ laughter could be heard from a mile away, until it’s silenced by luke’s lips crashing against yours.

“i like hanging out with you luke, we should do this more,” you giggle, making luke smile.

“do what, kiss more? or hang out more?”

“both. you’re my michigan boy.”

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes blurb #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #umich hockey #michigan hockey #trevor zegras #quinn hughes #zegras reader

[dulcesiabits]

a snake’s lesson in hunger.

summary: Inazuma’s lands are vast, but in your small world, there’s only you and Kunikuzushi.

notes: 2k words, fic, unhealthy/codependent relationships, references to death

There are two things you know about your traveling companion, Kunikuzushi. The first is that he seems to be running from someone. The second is that he wants desperately, a starving man searching for something nameless.

He’s a little like you in that way. But at least you know that nothing can truly stave that bottomless hunger, and he hasn’t quite learned that yet.

But that’s how things work; either he would learn, or he wouldn’t. Right now, it’s another quiet night out in the fields of Inazuma, of setting down your bags and raising your makeshift tent, of sparking a fire and roasting the lavender melons you’ve managed to gather. Kunikuzushi sits on the farthest side of the campfire, opposite of you, and you sense the pressure of his gaze. It’s unrelenting, but you can never catch him actually looking at you, no matter how you try.

“What makes you think you’re worth looking at?” he had said when you confronted him, and all you could do in response was threaten to make him sleep outside. Both of you know you’d never actually follow through on it, though.

Even though the warmth of the fire makes you drowsy, the lavender melon sweet on your tongue, Kunikuzushi’s eyes are cold. In all your months of traveling together, he’s never once let his guard down. You can’t sneak up on him, and he’s always aware of your presence, even when you aren’t in his direct line of sight. He’s up before you are, and goes to bed once you’ve dozed off. You wonder if he even needs to sleep. 

Kunikuzushi doesn’t talk much, either, but you don’t mind the silence. You can spend the time whittling and painting your little toys and trinkets, ready to sell at the next village you stop by. That’s how you’ve been eking out a living these days, and it’s enough for you to get by. 

It was until Kunikuzushi joined you, and you learned to stretch your meager supplies even farther. He’s been your traveling companion for close to a year now, but you still remember the first time you saw him. Kunikuzushi had been wandering aimlessly around the cliffs of Kannazuka like a ghost, his eyes like a cornered animal.

“Are you okay?” you had called out. 

He didn’t give any sign that he noticed you, nor did he stop walking, but that didn’t deter you from running up to him.

“Hey. You look hungry.” Digging out your container of rice and soup, you hold it out towards him like an offering. “Want to share some food with me?”

He still didn’t say anything, but he didn’t refuse as you guided him to some clusters of rocks to sit and eat. You didn’t push him to talk, nor did you say anything. You sat in silence until nothing remained of your lunch save for a few grains of rice.

What would this strange person do now? You had a feeling he would wander until he died.

“I just had an idea. If you don’t have anywhere to go, you can come with me,” you said amiably. “What do you think?”

He had looked at you finally, his gaze empty and flat, speaking the first words you heard from him all day. “I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity.”

He lapsed into silence. Shrugging, you stood to continue your trek, but the boy latched onto your clothes with a strength that belied his slender frame. 

“Wait. I’ll go with you.”

“Great! But, uh, I just realized I never asked your name.”

“... It’s Kunikuzushi,” he said. That was how your travels with him began. It had been like watching a newborn lamb stumble around in a pasture at first. Kunikuzushi couldn’t start a fire, dumped your paint into the river by accident, and refused to talk to the villagers while you pedaled your toys. Instead, he stood a distance away, always close enough to watch you and trail after you as you worked. 

Maybe that was where he got his habit of staring. Staring at you like you would disappear as soon as you turned your back, as if someone else would steal you away. 

But you were fine with it, because that meant he was close enough for you to watch him, too.

Eventually, though, Kunikuzushi grew. His words became sharper, his gaze harder, and something akin to anger replaced the emptiness you had first seen in him. Still, not much about your relationship changed, and the two of you still travel across the islands of Inazuma without a purpose.

Now, just like after every meal, you take out your little parcel of half-finished animals, selecting a snake that you’ve been meticulously carving for the past few days. You’re already imagining a fresh coat of glossy green paint over its body, detailing little scales finer than a firefly’s wings along its spine. 

You’re smoothing the shape of the snake’s head with your knife when Kunikuzushi speaks.

“Why do you insist on making those children’s toys?”

You don’t spare him a glance. “Why not? The kids like it, and it provides for us just fine, right? It’s the reason you can enjoy meat every week.”

He snorts. “It gives you nothing. You spend most of our money on art supplies.”

“Our money? I think you mean my money.”

“Why don’t you open a store? Or better yet…” He nods his head at your satchel of toy making supplies. “You could put that cryo vision of yours to use.”

Your knife slips, and blood wells up against the pad of your thumb. An amateur’s mistake. You hiss, and Kunikuzushi is by your side in the next breath. He grabs your wrist, snatching the knife from your hand.

“Careless,” he scoffs, his voice low. “What are you thinking?”

“You startled me.”

“Don’t blame others for your mistake.” Kunikuzushi contemplates the blood beading up along your thumb, and before you can ask what he’s doing, he places it in his mouth. His tongue runs gently along the rough edges of the cut without warning, and you wince at the sting. He lets your hand go, swiping his own thumb along his lips. 

You don’t look at him. He doesn’t look at you, either, but your thumb tingles from the sudden loss of warmth.

The snake will have to go unfinished for a few more nights. You’re no longer in the mood to work, and as you let the fire burn down to a few manageable embers, Kunikuzushi is already pulling back the flap of your tent.

You follow, dumping your satchel in the corner. It’s comforting to sleep near your supplies, which gives your dreams a reassuring weight. Kunikuzushi had complained at first because the tent was barely big enough for two people as it is, but stopped after you told him he could sleep outside instead.

Kunikuzushi is sprawled carelessly across the mat, watching you try to wiggle into a more comfortable position. Your shoulder brushes against his as you lie down facing him.

“Kuni,” you whisper, your lips only a few inches from his, watching his face glow brighter than the fire. “Wouldn’t you miss our current arrangement if I got a better job?”

“I would welcome the chance to get away from you.” 

“You’re not honest,” you say, curling an arm across his waist, pulling him closer to you. He doesn’t move away. He never does, despite what he might say. “The only thing I could do with my vision is become a shogunate soldier. There’s no value in a life like that, don’t you think?”

Kunikuzushi’s arm suddenly tightens, and you find yourself flush against his chest. His grip is just short of painful, but it still takes you a moment to find your breath. “You should never work for them.”

You hum, tucking your head over his, letting him press his nose in the crook of your neck. “I wasn’t planning to.”

The last embers of the fire dying allow shadows to slink into the room. You can’t see Kunikuzushi anymore, but you can still feel him in the dark. His legs tangling with yours. Your arms around each other. You’re sinking into him, and it’s hard to tell where you end and he begins.

Kunikuzushi’s touch is desperately innocent. He doesn’t demand anything from you except that you hold him back, that you don’t let go. And all you can do is respond with your own touch, to wordlessly tell him, yes, of course. As long as you don’t leave, too.

You fall asleep like that, his heartbeat the same as yours, yours the same as his. One steady, constant pulse.

–

In your dreams, you stand near the ashes of your family home. 

There’s nothing left for you here, but you still find yourself coming back, again and again. 

No one will come running to greet you. The garden has been salted, so nothing will grow. Even the burnt rumble of the walls has faded with time and wind.

It’s gone. It’s gone. It’s gone, and all you have left is a vision, burning traitorously bright in your hands. 

A useless gift from the gods, given far too late for you to save anyone. 

–

When you wake up, you keep your eyes closed, trying to thumb through your faded memories. What was the sound of your mother’s voice? Was it your brother or your sister who had freckles? Where did your father take you fishing? 

Someone shifts next to you, and you realize you’re wrapped in Kunikuzushi’s arms. Somehow, you’re still as tangled with him as you were when you fell asleep. You sit up, trying to wriggle your way back to the tent’s entrance. Is that your leg you just moved, or his? What part of you is yours, again?

A pale hand grabs your arm, hard enough to bruise. “Where are you going?”

“Kuni. I was just going to–” 

“You were leaving? Why?”

“I just needed some water.”

“Then I’ll get it for you.”

“No. No, it’s fine.” You shake the last of the sleep from your eyes. “I just had a weird dream.”

His grip on your arm relaxes. “All this over a dream? If you’re going to go somewhere, you have to tell me.”

“Okay. Okay, I will.” You steady your breathing, carding your fingers through his hair, as fine as silk. Kunikuzushi’s skin is cold, but you don’t mind. You’ve been sleeping in his arms for the past few months now, so it’s more familiar than anything else.

“You can’t leave me.”

“I won’t. I promise. We’ll stick together, no matter what.”

And you won’t leave him. You couldn’t. It would be a lie to say that you loved him, but it would also be a lie to say that you don’t. It’s a bit more like greed, you think. Like hunger. You need him to be by your side, because you have nothing else. 

It’s not love. It’s not love but it’s all you can offer him. 

The truth is you’re not a very kind person at all. You had only saved him that day on a whim, because then, he would owe you, and if he owed you, then that meant he needed you. A little bit of rice, a little bit of empathy, and the two of you would be tied together. 

You’re worse than Kunikuzushi, because there’s still something innocent in him, something that lets him believe that he loves you. But it’s okay, because he’s still the same as you, deep down. You both want the same things, and his heart beats in the same rhythm as yours, and in your little world, it’s just the two of you and no one else.

Like a snake devouring its own tail, there’s no malice, only the animal impulse to survive. One day, your hunger will kill you and Kunikuzushi, and you will devour each other until there is nothing left.

#liya writes #genshin impact #scaramouche #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #hes my little guy!! ive been on a scara kick lately so!! #this isnt fluff or angst but a secret third thing

[chronic-ghost]

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

rating: M (just for language)

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

word count: 5619

summary: you're a human lie detector-- so you tell the handsome man at the Jim Bo’s Burger Barn at 3AM. Too bad you're too drunk to catch up to his lies.

warnings: language, references to drugs/cartels, drinking, smoking, this one is pretty tame, no use of y/n

a/n: this is my Poker Face adjacent fic and inspired by the scene where Javi so innocently flirts with that american wife in the lounge. might become a series but not quite sure yet. lemme know which direction I should take this, if I should take it anywhere at all!

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You attract trouble.

You attract trouble like you put on your nicest dress, did your hair, fixed up your tits, and doused yourself in trouble-pheromones. Like you found trouble curled up on the side of the road, sad and alone like a lost dog, and you gave it a cookie and now it swings around your ankles, always moments away from knocking you on your ass. Except it’s not a dog, it’s a chimpanzee that’s finally snapped and it’s pissed–  it’s beating on the bars of its cage, it’s yowling, howling, it’s coming after you to eat off your goddamn face and–

Okay, back up a bit. 

You have a thing that gets you into trouble. No, not like a self-destructive habit or a weird twitch. It’s not drugs or alcohol or even a dumbass ex. It’s this thing you’ve always been able to do, always known, and because of your big mouth, it’s always gotten you into hot water with the wrong people.

You know when someone is lying. Don’t ask how. It’s a thing. But you know, without a shadow of a doubt, if what’s coming out of someone’s mouth is the God’s honest truth or total and utter bullshit.

You know when someone is lying and generally, folks don’t really appreciate it when you a) catch them on a lie and b) call them out on it. You and your big mouth.

Okay, that’s two things that get you into trouble, but it’s primarily the lying thing and the mouth thing is more or less a fun bonus. Used for good or evil, or whatever. 

The point – the point is – you know when someone is lying. Every single time. So, sure, the audience may say, it’s a weird quirk, kinda bizarre, may or may not be difficult to prove, but trouble? Real actual trouble? How could you possibly get into chimpanzee-face-eating trouble with just this little thing?

Well, rather easy actually. If you don’t have any particular skills, that is. If you barely finished high school, and street smarts was the only kind of smarts they were selling the day your mom smacked you on the ass and told you to find your way in the world. It was hard keeping a job too. Minimum wage living is terrible, especially when the customers lie to you, or to each other, or to their children. Even worse when management lies about why there’s no cash payout this month or why they’re late with this month’s checks. Getting by is fucking hard as shit, but when you know there’s something wrong being done and you’ve got this big fucking mouth, well, you’ve never been one to not court trouble. 

Maybe trouble is easier to find because you like to wave and flirt with it when you drive by. Give a little wink.

You work here, you work there. Nothing serious. Always temporary. And then, one day, during your shift as a maid at the Economy 99 on route 10, the elderly night guard asks if you’ve ever played poker. 

Nah, you say. Go Fish, that’s really your game. 

So he offers to teach you, along with a few of the other maids and staff waiting around for someone to blow chunks in the swimming pool because you always managed to find the really classy places. 

Okay, so you barely finished high school, you don’t have real marketable skills, you’ve got a big mouth and you’re not afraid to use it and –

– and –

You’re really fucking good at poker. 

And who here would like to venture a guess as to why?

You always know when someone is lying and what is poker if not Advance Bullshit for Adults? Fuckin’ Astronomical Physics for Liars and Dumbasses. Hell, you gotta fuckin’ PhD in Bovine Excrement and it’s time you graduated to the big leagues. Sayonara community college, hello Stanford for Assholes.

Okay, maybe that’s just regular Stanford. 

You learn to hustle too. Lose a few rounds so they don’t catch onto you and can’t accuse you of anything as you wipe their clocks clean. You change your name too, in different towns, in different back alley poker halls, because unfortunately the poker and casino community in this place is too small.

This place being all of the United States. 

You can’t exactly go online and work your literal magic– you gotta at least see or hear the person to know if they’re lying. Bluffing over pixels just isn’t the same. Isn’t sexy enough. 

So, with your big mouth and exceptional poker skills, you go hunting off the coast. It was an invite only poker tournament in Florida. You hadn’t managed to burn your ‘Marlene Green’ identify just yet and she was fucking crushing it up and down the east coast. You barely blinked at the ten grand buy-in– baby money, suckers ducks, little Tikes casino royale.

This was also the last one, you told yourself. One for all the marbles. 

Because the thing about disreputable poker halls, they tend to be filled with unpleasant, disreputable, very angry characters that, like a chimpanzee, will rip your face off and eat it if they think they’ve been cheated. 

Exit strategy. Mama always said you gotta have an exit strategy. Well, Mama said a lot of things and the actual literal exit strategy was Monterey Marina with a gorgeous trawler for sale. Older than shit, but damn that baby could purr. You were gonna take the money, offer up stone-cold cash (no questions asked), and sail off into the sunset. Or, well, sunrise because you were definitely getting the fuck out of Florida. 

But here it comes, the real kick in the goddamn teeth, the real screw in the rack. This is where your mouth and your talent– gift, power, is this a fucking superhero movie?– whatever– tended to get all mishmashed with one other thing that always– and you mean always– got you in the hot seat. Got you in Trouble, with a capital T, that rhymes with P and stands for pool hall – breathing down your neck. 

You alway had shitdumb, bad, fucking luck. 

So it’s not some lowtime, grumpy townies you piss off when you win the pot, it turns out its members of a goddamn drug cartel! And they are PISSED.

P-I-S-S-E-D

You don’t wanna ask the barrel of their guns if they’re going to kill you because you don’t actually want to be sure of their answer, so you’ve got your hands up, thinking this is definitely it– I’ve played my last hand, I’ve sunk my last boat, I’ve cursed my last fuck– when police sirens go off. It’s not a relief, but a distraction.

You’ve got a big mouth, wacky abilities, and reflexes like someone who’s been running their whole life. You smash a bottle against the back of the head of the blonde one closest to you, flip the table– chips and bullets go flying– and with the case holding the winnings still in your hands, you sprint out the back door. 

To your lovely Chevy Camaro waiting for you. 

And you drive.

“And I drive and I drive and I drive, all the way down to this lovely little diner in . . .” 

You swivel on the red seat, nearly knocking over the five little plastic bottles of Crown Royal on the counter that is making your head thick and puffy. You squint at the sign that boasts the best burgers in – “Texas, yes, thank you, Texas! Lone Star State. The most hated state, of all fifty of them, for Wile E Coyote. His nemesis. His haunting. His apocalypse now . . .” 

The man seated next to you, the same man who’s been there for an hour, quietly listening to you drunkenly ramble at the counter of Jim Bo’s Burger Barn, smirks. His mustache twitches.

“Why is it the Wile E Coyote’s least favorite state?”

Your mouth drops at him. You slouch as though indignant about his very question. “Roadrunner, duh, state bird of the Lone Star State. That and blue bonnets. I mean, the flower. Blue bonnets are the state bird and the road runner is the state flower of the Looney Star State . . . wait . . .”

He laughs, softly, his elbows under him as he leans forward on the counter, his brown jacket looking like it smells amazing. Drunker than you meant to be, you eye him from his classic cowboy boots, up his hips, and to the edges of that lovely brown jacket as it hangs around his waist. He has the prettiest eyes. 

“You were saying something about driving here?” He asks, very much aware of your shameless staring. “Do you still have that money?”

“Sure, sure,” you mutter and turn back to your chocolate milkshake that’s pretty much just chocolate soup at this point. You snatch up a remaining fry from your long gone burger and swirl it in the soup. “Got the keys and the money locked up tight. I worry more about someone fucking with my baby more than the money, you know. Lots of sentimental value in that car. ‘Is where I lost my virginity.”

At that, the man sputters on his coffee, his third of the night. Black, almost as dark as his hair. 

You sigh, frowning into your lumpy, ice-creamy soup. “So hard to get laid when you’re running for your life.” 

You swivel back to him as he’s patting his jacket dry of coffee. “Wait. You.”

“Me what?” You think his cheeks warm pink for a moment.

“What the hell are you doing out here at 3AM, listening to me babble endlessly? You don’t look shifty, but maybe you are.” 

He smirks again and tosses his napkins into the now empty coffee mug. 

“I’m Javi,” he says in a deep, soothing voice as he extends his hand across to you. You take it, with the proper amount of trepidation. “And I’m on my way to see my niece in Flagstaff.” 

You click your tongue and withdraw your hand, disappointed. “Bullshit.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I mean, your name is definitely Javi.” You pick up your own coffee mug and see that it’s unfortunately empty. You pick out some fleck that’s fallen into it. “Well, almost – is that short for something? – but you are definitely not on your way to see your niece in Flagstaff. Does she not live in Flagstaff or . . . do you not even have a niece?” You gasp, mouth agape. He has the decency to look uneasy. His eyes narrow at you. You scoff. “That is fucked up, hombre. Starting off a conversation with a lie is not a good way to make a friend.” 

“Why do you think I’m lying?” 

You roll your eyes, the coffee cup dangling loosely in your fingers. “We’ve been over this, my dude. See the court documents. Jeez, how hard is it to order a refill at three in the morning? Paragraph B, Subsection I’m really fucking good at poker. I don’t think, I know. I have this thing, always had, and when people lie to me, I . . . wriggle. Squirm. Not exactly ‘spoiled lunch meat’ but not ‘just clocked a hottie from across the bar and I like their vibes’ either.” 

He watches as the waitress, glaring, comes over and refills your mug. You immediately dive into five packets of sugar, shredding them like a racoon with a bag of popcorn. 

“But I don’t take it too personally,” you continue, flicking the sugar packet to make sure every single crystal falls into the cup. “People lie all the time. About stupid shit too. I don’t think they even mean to do it. It just happens.”

“Does it bother you? That people lie?” 

“Eh. Once upon a time. But fuck, if you could hear the bullshit firehose that comes outta people’s mouths on the daily, you’d stop shaking it off too, if you know what I mean.” Satisfied that you’d be able to see through both time and space with your sugar high, you take a sip. Needs milk. You reach across his plate, wobbling on the edge of the seat, his chest inches from your forearm, and snag the little tin milk pitcher. Your cup becomes more milk than coffee. “People lie for the best of reasons, mostly. Or at least, best for them. Either to save hurting someone else's feelings or their own. We humans don’t like pain, generally, as a rule. But rules are meant to be broken, I suppose.”

Javi, or as close to his real name as you’re going to get, is quiet. That tends to be more of his natural state, given that he had barely said two words while you recounted the past few weeks to him whether he wanted it or not. You sip your coffee again, delighted to have found the right balance of sugar, milk, and burnt coffee, when he taps the rim of his mug with his nail. 

 “I do have a niece, but she lives in Austin. Haven’t seen her in a while, actually, but I want to.” 

“Oh, yeah?” That was all true. You bend forward, eyes trying to watch him as you sip the delicate, hovering brown line that threatens to spill over the edge of the cup. “What’s stopping you from seeing her?” 

“Work.” 

Well, that was fucking ominous. 

“Wait. Fuck. What do you do for a living?” 

Javi slides off the seat and turns those slim hips towards you and, like a fucking idiot, you just now register the bulk at his waist. 

You whimper. Of course the one nice person who wanted to spare you a second glance was from the cartel. They found you. Somehow they tracked you down to the middle of nowhere, which was exactly what you wanted when you still had your life ahead of you. But now it seemed like a terrible fucking idea because there was no one around to at least make sure Baby Girl Camaro went to a good home. 

“Ah, fuck. Fuck! That’s a gun. Fuck, you’re gonna kill me right here in this goddamn diner,” you whine and put your head on the counter, hands covering the back as if you were preparing for a tornado. 

He sighs. “I’m not going to kill you.” 

Truth. 

“Then what do you want with me?” You glare at him, bleary-eyed. “Because the whole cover as a kindly stranger with baby cow eyes is officially fucking blown, my guy.” 

“Let’s go outside and – wait, what? Baby cow eyes? What the hell does that mean?” 

“What? You’ve never watched Dr. Pole? TV veterinarian?” You unwind from your prone position and frown at him. “He takes care of those little baby cows, lookin’ up at their mama with those big, sweet, gentle, loving brown eyes. Cutest thing in the world. Almost made me wanna give up beef for a whole two minutes. But seriously, dude, there’s this hamburger joint in Miami that makes you just wanna lick the juices right off your fingers– hey!” 

He grabs you by the upper arms and, as casually as a kidnapping can go, hauls you out of the diner. The bell above the door rings joyfully as he pulls you through. 

The reality of your situation hits you like a sixteen-wheeler truck and tears spring up in your eyes as panic bites into your spine. His grip is like iron around your bicep. 

“Dude, I’m so sorry I rambled on like that but I swear I didn’t know who you were. Please, please don’t kill me – o-o-or hurt me. Please don’t take me back to the cartel. You can have the money, I swear, j-j-just take it–,”

His eyes widen and immediately lets you go. The neon sign and lights of the diner behind him blur his face in shadow. You wipe at your eyes. 

“Lady, look, if you’re gonna survive on the run from the Cali Cartel, you can’t be telling your whole life story to anyone who asks.” He’s got his hands on his hips as if disappointed with you. You pout with your bottom lip out.

“Wasn’t telling just anyone. Was telling you.” You cross your arms and sniff, suddenly rather embarrassed to be crying in front of a man so genuinely hot it makes you go a little cross-eyed. Well, it was either him or the whiskey. TBD. “Not that I’m encouraging you or anything, but if you don’t kill me, aren’t your cartel bosses gonna be pissed?” 

“I don’t work for the cartel. I work for the DEA.” 

If crying was embarrassing, you are going to be fucking traumatized if you puked all over his cowboy boots.

“Aw shit. Shitshitshitshitshit.” You press your knuckles into your eyes, groaning. You wander backwards. Your head starts to spin and so do you. “The fucking government is after me? Holy shit, this is not good.” 

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

You frown and spin back around. He looks exasperated. 

“Well, how many words does it take to read me my Miranda rights?” You tick off the words on your fingers as you speak them aloud. “You. Have. The. Right. To. Remain. Silent. Anything – is that one word or two? – You. Say–,”

“Jesus Christ–,” He claps his wide hand over yours, squishing your tally between his palms. “Are you always like this or just because you’re drunk?” 

“I’m a delight, pal, okay?” You scowl up at him. “I am a barrel full of monkeys at all times. I am a waterslide with chocolate and whipped cream, okay? I am a–,”

His hands leap to your shoulders. His touch is gentle like he knows he shouldn’t scare you but he’s considering throwing you into oncoming traffic. 

“Just . . . show me the case of money you stole,” he begs with his baby cow eyes, “alright? Let’s start there.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “If I do, what’s to keep you from knocking me out and throwing me in the trunk?” 

“I’m not going to do that.”

No tingle. You purse your lips and wiggle out from under his palms. “Say it. Say, I’m not going to knock you out and throw you in the trunk and steal all of your money.” 

“It’s not exactly your money, is it?”

“Say it!”

“Fine!” He says, throwing his hands in the air. “I’m not going to knock you out and throw you in the trunk and steal all of your money.” 

Still nothing. No tingle. Well, no tingle about him lying anyway. 

“You passed the test. Now come here.” 

Hesitantly, he nudges towards you, those thick eyebrows dipping down as if expecting you to pull a bazooka out of your bra.

“C’mere, c’mere. Good.” You clap a hand on his shoulder and lean into him. You shift your weight onto one leg and wiggle off your other boot. You get a whiff of his cologne – dark, woodsy, a little too much, as if to cover for a lack of deodorant. “Now, as you so annoyingly identified earlier, I have had a little, insy-tintsy bit to drink, and if I tried to take off my shoe by myself, I would, as the kids say, eat shit. And once you’ve fallen on your ass in front of one cop, you’ve fallen on your ass in front of them all.”

His warm hands find your waist, steadying you, just as you pop your heel out of your boot. “I’m not a cop,” he grumbles.

“And I’m not a walking lie detector.” You shake your boot and your car keys tinkle as they hit the dirt. “Ah, ha! Got ‘em.”

You shake them in front of his baby cow eyes, grinning, before spinning back to your car and popping the trunk, hopping as you went to slide your boot back on. 

“Do you work out?” You ask as he rounds the edge. Half of you is buried in the trunk, feet in the air. 

“Uh, yeah, when I can. Why?”

“What do you bench?”

“256. Why?” 

“Oh, then this should be easy for you.”

You groan, struggling with something and he dives to help you – and his knees buckle. 

“Why the hell do you have a tire for a sixteen wheeler in your trunk?”

“Same reason you’re sweating, toots. Heavy as fuck and hard to move. But now that we have . . .”

You pull out a slim silver case. You pop the handles and sigh.

You haven’t moved a single bill since that night. You haven’t even breathed on it, as if doing so would set off a series of alarms, bells, and whistles.

“So small for so much trouble,” you whisper as he crowds in next to you. “Fifty thousand dollars. Make or break a life. Well, at least, a life like mine.” 

Javi makes a face. “Should be one hundred, but those fuckers switched it out.” 

“Wait, how do you know that?” 

He sighs and slams the lid of the trunk shut. You snatch up the case before he does and hold it tight to your chest. Javi stands there for a moment, with his hand on Baby’s trunk, head down, thinking.

“Look, I want to help you . . . and I can. But you’ve gotta start being honest with me. How did you really get into that poker game?”

“What do you mean?”

He crosses his arms, frowning. “That little party trick you do. The human lie detector thing. What is it? How did you know Veracruz had that shit hand?”

“Uh, because I asked him and he said he didn’t have a shit hand, and I knew he was lying.” 

“Yeah, that. How did you know he was lying?”

“I just did.”

“Bullshit.” 

“That’s my line!” You glare up at him, very much aware of his height and very much aware how hot he is. “I’m not lying to you. I just know when people are lying. If you believe it, I’ll know.” 

Javi rolls his eyes. “That’s not a real thing people can do. Have you done forensic work before? Studied body language somewhere?” 

You scoff and step back, showing off your black fringe vest, dirty jeans, and combat boots. “Do I look like I’ve studied anything anywhere ever? Where would I even have gotten the money to go study somewhere? Oh right, the forensic fairy, just beating the shit outta people with a bag of cash.” 

He puts his hands on his hips and you match him because you can do the scary cop thing too. It’s not that hard. 

“I broke my arm when I was seven on a bike ride.” 

“True.” 

“I had a dog named Benji.” 

“Dog’s right, but not named Benji.” You grin, rubbing your hands together, then putting them on your thighs. “C’mon, gimme something you’ve never told anyone. This is exciting. Your mustache does this little twitch thing when I’m right.” 

“When I was twelve, I cheated off my friend’s math test.” 

You frown, dropping your shoulders. “That’s your big secret? Whoof, buddy, and here I thought the big scary man gunning for me was mean and lean, when he’s actually just an All-American—,”

“I need your help to arrest the men who are trying to kill you.” 

Your mouth snaps shut so fast your teeth click.

“That’s what all of this is about.” He crosses his arms and leans against Baby. “Aren’t you curious how I found you so fast? Faster than the cartel who's been on your ass for two weeks now?” 

“I’d like to think it was just kismet that we found each other,” you grumble. “Serendipity. Movie magic. Lady Luck doing me a fuckin’ solid for once.”

“That case has a tracker in it. We had a plant in that game who was supposed to win, but not before he could distribute the cash out in the pot. We’d be able to follow them back to their stashes and track their movements.” He bit his lip, disapprovingly. “And then you showed up. Cleaned their fucking clocks like it was nothing. Had their goddamn numbers from minute one and none of us could figure it out. Steve was probably relieved when you knocked him out with that bottle.”

“Oh, shit, the blonde was your partner?” You grimace. “My bad, dude, my bad. Is he, uh, okay?”

Javi nods, eyes distant, as if subtly trying to work something out in his brain. Like testing to see if you could read minds or something. “He’ll be fine. His wife Connie is thrilled to have him home for a few weeks.” 

“Ah. And that means you pulled the shit straw to go after the girl who ran off with all your government money . . .” It was finally all coming together. “Shit, should I add your wife to the list of people I’ve pissed off? I can’t imagine she’s thrilled about any of this.”

His jaw works, as if he was chewing on something, eyes dark, before he pulls a packet of cigarettes out of the pocket of his jacket. He holds one out to you.

You stay where you are, hesitant. 

“C’mon, don’t tell me you’re not a smoker.” He spins an unlit cigarette between his fingers. “I don’t bite.”

You scowl and trudge forward. You snatch the cigarette from his thick fingers and wait your turn for the lighter.

“What gave it away? I haven’t had a smoke in hours.” 

The shadow of the flame flickered in his palm as he held out the lighter close to your lips, his hand blocking the wind. His brown eyes looked black in the absence of light. 

“Chain-smoking and playing poker with idiots is a combo deal. Two vices for the price of one.”

“Ha. Ha.”

You match his lean against Baby’s trunk, the pair of you watching the occasional car or truck go by on the interstate in the distance. The paper crinkles when you suck in the smoke. God, there really is nothing like the first bite of a cigarette. 

“So, what’s the play here?” You ask, after a moment. “You have the money. Why do you need me?” 

“You won’t have to worry about kindly strangers with baby cow eyes for starters.” You scowl at him. Maybe it’s the orange light of the flame, but you swear you see a twinkle in his eyes. “But you tell me. You seem smart. What would the government want with you?”

He likes a chase, you realize. He likes to play, to tease. He likes to be in control. Something inside you knots up, threatening goosebumps on your skin, but you shake it back. Down, girl. 

You take a sip from your cigarette, thinking. 

There is nothing else around except the highway and this diner. Seemed like such a good idea at the time. Who’d ever find your ass all the way out here? You lick the bottom of your lip before pulling it between your teeth.

“I’m your only witness to the mountains of coke being produced out in the open when they brought us in. Everyone else at that table was cartel or DEA. You want me to testify. 

He nods slowly. If he was impressed, he didn’t show it.

“We didn’t know who the hell you were when you showed up and planned to arrest you before everything went tits up.” He taps the ash onto the gray dirt and you watch his fingers. “If you do this, you’re out from under the cartel. We can give you a new identity, and you can start grifting again across America. All of this’ll be a bad dream.”

He flicks the butt of his cigarette into the dark, just at the edge of the light from the neon sign. You follow suit a second later. The keys to Baby are still in your pocket. 

“And if I don’t? If I don’t do this, then what?” 

His answer is a single arched eyebrow.

You dart to the left, trying to get around him, but he’s there first, arms outstretched like he’s guarding a goal. He frowns at you. Seriously? 

You lunge again, this time to the right, and he’s again in front. 

Your brow sweating, you hook your foot onto Baby’s trunk, desperately trying to scramble over the top. You get about halfway up before those annoyingly large hands snatch you around the waist and haul you off the car.

“Would you stop it?” He plops you down between his solid chest and the car door. This close to him, air temporarily leaves your lungs. “I’m being honest when I say I’m here to help you.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Am I lying?” Again, that beautiful eyebrow of disapproval. 

“No, but I’ve officially decided you’re shifty.” 

He shakes his head and steps back, allowing blood flow to return to your brain. 

“Is this what you want for your life? Driving from small town to small town, picking up bullshit jobs, sleeping in shit beds, when there’s so much more you could do? You’re smart, resourceful, funny, weirdly agile . . . but you wanna spend your life hiding from the world.” 

There’s something hot and sharp in your throat.

“It’s what I’m good at,” you croak. 

His expression softens. The gravel crackles beneath his boots as he comes closer. Javi, the DEA officer, has temporarily left the building. In his place, this Javi is smoothed out, dulled, not all jagged edges and razor burns. Maybe tastes sweeter than day-old coffee and stale cigarettes. You want to tell him there’s nothing wrong with either– you happily take both– but seeing him unguarded, even for a moment, threatens to topple you over. There’s a light in his eyes when he takes in your face. Your eyes. Your nose. Your mouth. 

He looks . . . hopeful. 

One hesitant finger brushes away a stray strand of hair from your forehead.

Do not tremble. Do not tremble. Do not do it, I swear, ladies, keep it together!

“I bet you are,” he says softly. Jesus Christ, his hands are so big up close. “I bet you are good at a lot of things. You seem like the type who could genuinely surprise me. And I think you might surprise yourself one day.” 

You grimace, deeply, deeply regretful. 

“Yeah,” you mutter glumly. “I do surprise people a lot, actually. Unfortunately, you didn’t seem to be listening.”

“Wha–,”

From your other pocket in your vest, you yank out a one-time-use stun gun and stab his thigh through his jeans. Fifty-thousand volts lights up his entire body, arched, and tensed, before the grown man collapses at your feet. 

Unconscious, Javi hits the ground so hard you squeal, landing on his face and no doubt earning a nasty bruise. 

“Exit strategy, dude! Always gotta have an exit strategy. But I’m so, so sorry!” Grabbing his deadweight shoulder, you roll him onto his back and try to get him in a comfortable position. There’s dust in his mustache. .You fold his hands onto his chest like he was casually napping. 

Then because you were in fact the nicest or stupidest person on the planet, you dig your arms under his and pull him out of the parking lot. It would be a true sin if he got run over and anything happened to that beautiful face. Huffing, you drop him off by the bike rack. “I’m sorry. You are so gorgeous but I gotta get outta here and I can’t have you following me. This hurts me way more than it hurts you.”

You bend down and rifle through his jacket. You find what you’re looking for and take his phone out of his pocket. Old, probably a burner. With a shake, you crack off the battery and throw it on the ground. The crunch is loud beneath your heel. That should give you some more time. Can’t haul you back to HeadQuarters if he can’t call them.

This close to him, you can see the bags beneath his eyes. You remember he didn’t eat the entire time he sat with you in the diner. He didn’t respond to your question about a wife. Guilt clangs into your ribs. Slowly, you loosely brush your fingers through his hair. It’s soft, curls around his neck and ears. He looks like he needs sleep. 

You had been blasting across state lines, hardly eating, barely sleeping, restless and fearful. Maybe he had been too.  

“God, I am such a fucking idiot.” You grimace as you see a ripe purple bump growing on his cheek. “I am so sorry and I am so going to hell for this.”

Over the road to the highway, the dawn rises, purple and pink and heavy.

Baby purrs, when you start the engine, welcoming and warm. Where to today, Mama?

Jim Croce’s twang eases out of the radio as you adjust your mirror and see his long legs still out by the concrete. Somebody would find him soon enough.

Uptown got its hustlers

The bowery got it's bums

42nd street got big Jim Walker

He's a pool shootin' son of a gun

Yeah, he big and dumb as a man can come

But he stronger than a country hoss

You shake your head, guilt gnawing at your gut. Baby roars as you pull out onto the road and up onto the highway. Into the burning dawn.

What was it that he said? 

And when the bad folks all get together at night

You know they all call big Jim boss, just because

He called you funny. Resourceful. Full of potential. And smart. He thought you were smart.

Liar, liar. 

And they say

You don't tug on superman's cape

You don't spit into the wind

You don't pull the mask off that old lone ranger

And you don't mess around with Jim

#trying to get back into the flow of writing frequently if not just for one fic #javier peña #javier pena fic #javier pena one shot #javier pena x y/n #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x reader #javier peña x ofc #narcos #narcos netflix #also gonna tag this as #poker face #because more people need to see that damn show #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters