Summary: Bob's lost his hoodie and he has no clue where he left it, so he figures his next best option is to find you. What he didn't expect to see was you curled up on the couch wearing it.
Or: The one where Bob find's reader in his hoodie.
Masterlist
Warnings: Reader is wearing Bob's hoodie and it is described as being oversized. Bob calls reader pet names like baby. No description of reader. No use of Y/N.
Notes: I have been getting smacked with the most horrendous writers block recently as well as being super busy this entire week, so I apologize for all these being so short recently â€ïž
Edited â
Bob walked through the tower halls as his brain scrambled for answers. Heâd just finished his shower when he realized his favorite navy blue hoodie was nowhere to be found in his room, which is where he swore he left it.Â
He rubbed the back of his neck as he squinted down the hallway like his hoodie would magically appear. Maybe it got caught up in the laundry? Or maybe he left it in the living room last night after he had a movie night with you. He decided that the next best thing would be to ask you if you had seen it
You two had recently started dating, and you were absolutely his favorite person in this world.
You always complimented his hoodie saying that it smelt like him, and that it felt so soft when youâd curl up next to him. So he figured if anyone may know where this hoodie is, itâd be his girl.
He turned the corner into the towerâs living room to ask if youâd seen it, ruffling his damp hair as he walked. As he neared the open doorway, he called out âHey, baby? Have you seen my-?
Only to stop dead in his tracks, because there you were. You were curled up in a blanket with your legs tucked beneath you on the couch. You were completely absorbed in your book as you leaned against the couch and your face contorted into a soft focused expression, one he adored getting to see on you.
But what really made him pause? You were wearing his hoodie. The exact one he was looking for. The sleeves were too long and bunched up on your arms so you could read your book freely. And the hood was bunched up behind your neck like youâd been cuddling into it.
Bobâs heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He thought that youâve looked beautiful since the day he met you, and thatâs only intensified since youâve started dating.
But thereâs something so special about this moment of seeing you wearing his clothes while you do something as simple as just reading a book. Bob knew one thing, and thatâs that he wanted to see you in more of his clothes as soon as humanly possible.
He muttered a soft âGod I'm luckyâ to himself before walking closer to where you were sitting and cleared his throat lightly, a soft smile sitting on his face.
You startled a little as you looked up to see your boyfriends grinning face, heat quickly rushing to your face. âHi.â you muttered out softly, a bit embarrassed at being caught wearing his hoodie. âI hope you donât mind, it was really cold in here and it was just sitting on the edge of the couch.â
Bob smiled even wider as he shook his head, âI donât mind at all. You look adorable in it, Baby.â he murmured his voice full of fondness as he walked over. âWouldnât mind getting to see you in more of these either.â he said softly tugging at the sleeve of the hoodie as he sat down next to you.
You ducked your head with a shy laugh hitting his arm quickly. âYouâre so sappy sometimes.âÂ
Bob chuckled before kissing the top of your head, one arm looping around your shoulders as he pulled you into his side. âSeriously baby, you can steal them anytime, I like seeing them on you.â You nudged him playfully but melted into his side, letting his arm tighten around you as you focused back on your book.
Bob exhaled softly, a smile still on his face as you read. He found his hoodie and fell even more in love with you, what more could he ask for out of a cold winter day?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
A/N: Hey ~ Sorry, it's been so long đ school and personal stuff have had my hands tied for a hot minute. It didn't help that this chapter is like just smut, so I couldn't write it like my other fics while I'm at my campus's library. Anyway, without further ado, here's like 3,078 words of smut with a touch of aftercare ^_^
!!!MDNI!!!
CW: Dom Jack, sub borderline bratty reader, switch Robby, fingering, Daddy/Sir Kink, Jack's in charge, shower sex, oral, finger sucking, hair pulling, Jack has a firm hand, dry humping, titty fucking, jerking off, they're all desperate for each other, naked reader, clothed men, aftercare.
You jolted awake at the sound of your apartment door shutting. If that wasnât disorienting enough, the sudden brightness of your overhead lights definitely was. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you fully sat up on your couch, your blanket falling off of you in the process.
âHey, sleepy head,â Michael greeted with a smile, toeing out of his shoes at your door; he was already changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.
âHey,â you reply sheepishly, clicking off your TV, âHow was work?â
âGood, though Iâm more interested in how your day was.â He replied, crossing the room to sit in the armchair, facing you, âAny brain fog, or issues focusing?â
âNo,â you shook your head, âJust mind-numbingly slow, I didnât have any clients today, just finished up some digital training, and was walked through the process of signing out digital and more traditional mediums. I think my supervisor still feels bad about the whole situation, but she promised Iâll be in sessions tomorrow. I have three patients in peds and one teenager in inpatient rehabilitation. Since I was able to go over all my patient files today, I will hopefully just have to sign out mediums tomorrow and be able to hit the ground running.â
âI donât think thatâs necessarily a bad thing, the last thing you want to do is-â Michael started, before you cut him off,
âOverexert myself?â you finished, âMikey, itâs been two weeks, Iâm fine, I promise.â
âSweetheart, youâve been saying you're fine since it happened.â He gently reminded you, âThe last thing Jack or I want is you accidentally hurting yourself.â
âI know, but I really am fine, weâve just been moving frustratingly slow.â You sighed, âI mean, the first proper kiss I had with either of you was today. And it didnât go anywhere because of how drained Jack was.â
âHoney, kissingâs fine, but we donât want to get lost in it and accidentally push you too far. You still should be avoiding overly strenuous activity.â Michael replied gently, âEven if we started to kiss now, weâre steps from your bedroom. You can see how fast that could escalate, canât you?â
âI guess, itâs just not fair.â You said, âYou guys can do whatever you want, and Iâm stuck outside of it.â
âLove, we havenât been unaffected. I mean fuck, Iâve taken more cold showers in the past two weeks than I have in my entire life. How am I supposed to not get hard when I wake up with you wrapped up in my arms?â
âCould we just kiss? Please?â you asked, looking up at him desperately. You see him actively making his decision as his face shifts with each emotion.
âOkay,â he finally relents, âbut weâre just kissing,â
He couldnât help but smile as your face perked up. You shifted to sitting on your lower legs as Robby sat down next to you, shifting your blanket to reveal a black ribbed bralette and soft sleep shorts.
âGod, youâre killing me, sweetheart,â he groaned, taking in your outfit.
âMhm, now you know how I feel,â you hummed, pressing up on your calves to pull him in for a kiss. What started out as sweet and gentle quickly devolved into desperation on both your parts. You pressed up higher to be as close as possible while Michael slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your little moans and whimpers went straight to his cock. His large hands bracketed your waist as you straddled him. His hands began to wander down to your hips as you pressed deeper into the kiss. You hesitantly rolled your hips as you tested Robbyâs restraint. The second you clothed core made contact with his, there was no going back. Your arms wrapped around his neck, as he kneaded your ass while encouraging your gentle rocks as he thrusted up against you. A groan keened deep in your throat as he hardened with each swipe of your cores. You were too lost in each other to process the opening and closing of your apartment door or the glow of your strings deepening in color.
âHaving fun?â Jack asked, making you both pull back, while you jumped out of your skin. You softly panted, forehead resting on Michaelâs shoulder.
âWhat happened to taking it slow?â Jack asked from behind you.
âShe was very convincing,â Robby responded, still shamelessly palming your ass.
âYeah, like you donât have the willpower of a kid in a candy shop,â Jack sighed, âTrouble, what did you say to get into this position?â
âI asked for a kiss,â you admitted shyly, looking over your shoulder at Jack,
âA single kiss,â Jack clarified,
âYeah,â you nodded, biting your lip to contain your mischievous smile.
âGod, you really are weak, Robinavitch.â Jack sighed in a disappointed tone.
âLike, you could do better,â Robby scoffed.
âShe literally bathed me this morning,â Jack deadpanned,
âYou also said you would have cum immediately if you werenât too tired to get it up,â Robby snarked back,
A steely silence enveloped the room as the two men looked at each other fiercely, neither willing to look away first. That was until a pitiful whine escaped you, as Robbyâs inadvertent hard grip on you caused all your movement to stop. You heard the creak of Jackâs prosthetic as he walked up behind you, frustrated tears blooming in the corner of your eyes.
âYou okay, Sunny?â Jack asked softly. Â
âI need to cum,â you sniffled, âI know you donât want to hurt me, but I need it, so fucking bad.â
âBaby,â Jack attempts, before you cut him off.
âNo, itâs not fair,â you whined, âYou both can take care of yourselves and each other whenever you want. I havenât even been able to touch myself without one of you stopping me because I might overexert myself, and you're always around.â
Another moment of silence passed before Robbyâs hands shifted, and he manhandled you to be sitting with your back to his chest, Jack now kneeling in front of you.
âSorry, Sunny,â he said, kissing your inner thigh, âNever meant to neglect you, sweet girl.â
âIs it okay if we get rid of these?â Robby asked, thumbing at your sleep shorts,
âPlease,â you border on begging, eyes locked on Jackâs. You lifted your hips up as Jack fisted the soft material of your shorts and pulled them down with your underwear in one go.
âFuck,â he groaned, tossing your clothing to the side, eyes locked on your core. You didnât even have time to feel self-conscious as Robby hooked your legs on the outside of his own, leaving you fully on display.
âJack, please,â you begged,
âGod,â he groaned in response as he gently parted your lower lips and caught sight of your engorged clit.
âSo, fucking pretty,â he said to Robby, âSheâs soaked,â
âYeah?â Robby asked,
âYeah, Fuck.â Jack groaned,
âIâm so fucking sorry, sweetheart,â Jack apologized as he gently traced your entrance with the tips of his fingers, before easing up to circle your clit. You couldnât help but jerk and let out a cry as he lowered his lips to your clit and flattened his tongue against it.
âFuck, fuck, Jack, please,â you whined, as he gently thrusted a finger into your heat. You were so wound up you doubted youâd be able to last. Between the stretch of his now two fingers in you, the scratch of his stubble, and his attention on your clit, it was over before it started.
âFuck, can I? Can I please cum?!â you moaned loudly, too far to care if anyone would overhear.
âGo ahead, baby,â Robby encouraged, âGive it to Sir.â
Thatâs all the permission you needed to crumble in Jackâs hands.
âFuck, Sir, please! Fuck so good,â you moaned, squeezing Jackâs fingers hard as his long, thick fingers easily filled you up, his teeth nipping at your clit. Robby had to strengthen his grip on your thighs to keep you from locking around Jackâs head to keep him flush against your pussy. Jack fingered you through it, only easing his fingers out as you feel lax against Robby. You could only whine as you watched Robby grab Jackâs hand and clean your release off his fingers. It wasnât just a quick lick, no, Robby was thorough. He licked Jackâs fingers into his mouth and sucked hard.
âFuck,â Jack cursed, as you unconsciously rubbed your thighs together.
âGod,â Robby groaned, releasing Jackâs fingers, âI need a taste now,â
âYou okay on your knees?â Jack asked, looking up at Michael.
âBut, I wanna make you cum too,â you interrupted with a whine, âPlease, Daddy,â you said, looking up at Robby over your shoulder.
âFuck, baby-â he started, before Jack cut him off.
âTrouble, youâre still healing. You really shouldnât be doing anything that will jostle your head.â
âWhat if I wasnât being jostled?â you asked, looking down at Jack.
âYou want to jerk him off?â Jack asked,
âSorta,â you started, hesitantly, âI was thinking he could fuck my chest.â
âJesus,â Robby groaned, âHow long have you been thinking about that?â Â
âLong,â you admitted, too horny to be bashful, âYouâd be horny too if you were trapped on house arrest and not able to touch your soulmates.â
âI guess you can try,â Jack gruffed, âbut if I see any head jostling or anything I donât like, youâre stopping.â
âYouâre saying that like I donât want you to watch,â you teased as you slid off Robbyâs lap down to your knees next to Jack,
âTrouble,â Jack warned,
âJust teasing, Sir,â you said, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. His stern look cracked, momentarily, as he fought a smile.
âCan I?â you asked, looking between Jack and Michaelâs bulge,
âGo ahead,â he responded reluctantly. You smiled, pecking his lips before shedding your bralette, while Jack helped Robby out of his sweats.
âFuck,â you cursed, taking in Robbyâs unobstructed cock for the first time. Sure, you had felt it against you most mornings before he peeled himself off you for work, but it was still bigger than you expected.
âStill good?â Jack teased as Michael blushed in response.
âYeah,â you nodded, your own face heating up. You shuffled forward between Robbyâs open thighs as Jack crowded you in from his position behind you.
âIs this okay?â you asked, looking up at Robby as you warmed up your hands before lightly grasping his base.
âFuck,â he groaned, âYeah, baby, Iâm good if anything happens that I donât like, Iâll say code, okay?â
âOkay, Daddy,â you smiled up at him as his blush spread up to his ears. You tightened your grip a bit before licking the head of his cock and letting your drool stream down to wet the rest of his member.
âGod,â Robby groaned, âFuck, her hands are so soft, Jack.â
âYeah, just wait til you feel her pussy,â Jack commented, smirk clear in his voice. You tested your limits by taking Robby down an inch past his head, only to have Jackâs hand firmly grip your hair and ease your mouth off him embarrassingly slow to let you sit in your decision.
âWhat, was that?â Jack husked in your ear, not loosening his grip.
âJust trying to-Fuckâ you cursed as Jack tightened his grip.
âWhat, was that?â he asked again, tone clipped.
âI was just trying to get Daddy wet,â you replied.
âYou can do that without bobbing your head.â Jack stated.
âHeâs too big, itâs taking so long,â you whined.
âItâll take even longer for him to cum in your mouth if you keep whining like a brat.â Jack said, âUnless you want to stop?â he said in a faux light tone, like he was genuinely asking.
âItâd go a lot faster if you help,â you quipped over your shoulder.
âOh? You want me to help get Daddy wet?â he asked, stroking your slit.
âYea-Oh!â you moaned as Jack slipped two fingers back inside you and curled them against your front wall as he pulled out torturously slow. Your face felt like it was on fire as you watched Jack spread your slick around the base of Robbyâs cock, before going back for more.
âWhatâs the matter, sweetheart?â Jack taunted, âThought you were in a rush?â Â
You couldnât help but whine around the head of Robbyâs cock as Jack started to slowly jerk the base of Robbyâs cock; your fist bumping in the middle.
âThink Daddyâs wet enough, Trouble?â Jack husked in your ear as he released Robbyâs cock before wrapping his hand around yours to guide it up and down his length.
âYeah,â you whined, clenching around nothing as Robby pulsed in your hand.
âLearn forward,â Jack ordered. You nodded dumbly as your brain started to shut off and feel fuzzy under his direction.
âGood girl,â he said, cupping your breasts around Robbyâs cock.
âOh, fuck me,â Michael groaned above you.
âBe a good girl and stick out your tongue for Daddy,â Jack ordered,
âYes, sir,â you responded with no fight. Robby moaned as he experimentally thrust upward through your tits, tip just breaching your lips.
âFuck, perfect,â Jack praised, ânow be a good girl and let Daddy use you.â
You couldnât help but rub your thighs together. You didnât know what was getting you wetter, the squelching of Robby thrusting up between your tits or how vocal he was getting the closer to his release.
âHoly-Oh fuck, fuck me, sheâs so soft, Jackie, and her mouthâs so fucking hot.â Robby moaned, gasping as Jack pressed your tits closer together.
âYeah?â Jack asked with a smirk, âGonna cum? Gonna cum all over our baby girlâs face? Or do you want her to swallow it?â
âFuck,â Robby gasped, âWant it-FUCK-want it in her, fuck want her to suck me dry.â
âThink you can manage trouble?â Jack said, looping you back into the conversation. You nodded your head lightly, moving so slightly that only someone focused on you could clock it, like Jack, whose gaze had never left your face.
âGo ahead, baby,â he encouraged Robby, grinding his own hard on against your back.
âFuck, baby- huh, Fuck gonna cum, gonna cum sweetheart,â he said, warning punched out of his chest seconds before he came. All you could do was whine as Robby flooded your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your mouth, just shy of your throat, as his hips stuttered. You fell back into Jackâs sturdy form as you swallowed the last bit of cum and pulled off of Robbyâs spent cock.
âYou good, baby?â Jack asked softly, wiping away a bit of cum that had leaked out of the corners of your mouth with a gentle touch.
âMhm,â you hummed, out of it to the extent you could only focus on your own desperate need for release.
âBaby,â Jack said firmly, âGotta tell me with words.â
âIâm,â you paused, taking a breath, âIâm okay, Jackie,â
âGood,â he smiled down at you, pecking your forehead over the scar. You smiled up at him, leaning your full weight back on him.
âYou okay, Mikey?â you asked, looking up at Robby.
âYeah, Iâm good, sweetheart,â he smiled down at you as he tucked himself back into his pants; his face still beet red.
âWhy donât we get you dressed and shower over at ours?â Jack offered,
âCan we cuddle after?â you asked, looking over your shoulder at Jack.
âOf course, love,â Jack said, before pulling you in for a quick kiss. He patiently waited for you and Robby to move after helping you back into your shorts and bralette. With a thankfully empty hallway, you all made the quick trip back to their apartment. Michael grabbed your hand and gently guided you back to their larger bathroom, fit with a shower that had a built-in bench. You smiled as Michael switched on the shower to adjust the water temperature, while you came mostly back into your body.
âThis feel okay, love?â He asked, stepping aside so you could feel the warm water.
âYeah,â you smiled up at him, as Jack walked in, in his arm-crutches. You pulled him for a kiss as you worked at his drawstring and dropped both his boxer briefs in one fell swoop. While you were busy, Robby came up behind you and helped you strip your own bottoms. You pulled away from the kiss, unrushed, sharing a smile with Jack as you both lost your tops.
âFuck, youâre still so wet,â Robby groaned,
âStill feeling needy?â Jack teased lightly as your face heated up again.
âA little,â you confessed shyly, not wanting to be too demanding.
âWhy donât you take care of our girl?â he suggested to Robby, as he started to strip.
âWhat about you?â you asked Jack as he transitioned into the shower.
âIâll be fine, baby,â Jack replied with a smile. You entered the shower and kissed him as Robby slid in behind you.
âThis okay, love?â he asked, shifting you so your back was to the wall, below the head of the shower, facing Jack.
âYeah,â you nodded, breath hitching at the sight of Robby lowering himself to his knees before you while Jack gripped his cock, eyes never leaving you. You bit your lip as Robby nudged your thighs apart, glancing up for one last confirmation before diving in. You nodded reassuringly as he immediately slipped two fingers in, tongue toying with your clit.
âFuck,â you moaned as Jack locked eyes with you his own pace matching Robbyâs fingers.
âFuck, Daddy, please,â you moaned unabashedly, aware that your empty apartment was on the other side of the shared wall. You could only moan and whine as Robby quickly built up your orgasm.
âFuck, thatâs it, sweetheart,â Jack encouraged, âTaking his finger so well, God-fuck, God canât wait to see you stretched out on his cock.â A blush stained his own face now as he sped up in time with Robbyâs pace. It was so much too fast, your orgasm bordered on painful as the tension in your stomach snapped. You rode out your orgasm on Robbyâs face, eyes never leaving Jackâs. He moaned your name, quickly cumming all over his lower stomach. You and your soulmates basked in silence for a moment as you all calmed down. You lazily washed up and finished each of your nighttime routines in tandem, before piling into bed. A talk about boundaries and limits was needed, but that could wait til the morning.
A/N: Hope this was okay đ«¶ , even though there was like no plot lol. Not sure when the next update will be out, but definitely not done with these three đ
WARNING/CAUTION: Drugging, implied intention of sexual assault, and human trafficking. Murder and Krueger being the smug little thing that he is.
It's a headcanon that I have that Krueger has a strange and vile hatred of human traffickers and people who sexually assault others. Like, he hates them, and he takes great pleasure in killing them while also seeing them as not even worth his time because they are the scum of the earth to him. He won't let them get away with anything, and he believes that he is in his right to remove them because they are a problem.
I also headcanon that he will flirt and play around with someone that he is interested in. He won't ever tell that person that that is his version of the "talking stage" of a realtionship, he just expects the other person to figure it out. He wouldn't flirt with someone who coudn't offer him something in return. He likes getting attention from people and he figures that other people would like getting attention from him too, so he gives his attention to the person that he is interested in. If the person that he likes flirts with other people, he sees it as not a betrayl, but something hurtful because that is his thing to do with that person and he feels like he is close to that person. So it pisses him off when people do that, though he won't ever explain to them why he's suddenly pissed off.
Y/n rapped her knuckles lightly against the open doorframe. Once. Twice. Then, without waiting for an answer she already knew was coming, she leaned in.
âHey, Syd.â
The room smelled faintly of gun oil and laundry detergentâthe universal scent of a soldierâs quarters. Syd sat at the narrow desk shoved against the far wall, shoulders squared, posture perfect even when off duty. Her laptop glowed in the dim light, the screen reflecting faintly in the window behind her. One AirPod sat tucked into her ear, the other abandoned on the desk beside a half-empty mug that had long since gone cold.
She was typing. Or at least, her fingers were moving like she was.
Y/n stepped fully inside, the door clicking softly behind her, and glanced at the screen as Syd finally paused and turned in her chair with a long, tired exhale.
âHey, Y/n,â Syd said, pulling the AirPod out. Her eyes flicked over Y/n in a quick, practiced sweepâand then stopped. Her brows knit together. âWhy are you dressed like⊠uh.â She gestured vaguely. âThat.â
Y/n followed her gaze down to herself. Ripped jeans, torn enough to show more skin than regulation would ever even dare to allow. A loose tank top hung off one shoulder, the edge of her sports bra visible beneath it. Her hairâbrushed, loose, deliberately softâfell around her shoulders instead of being yanked back into a tight, no-nonsense bun like every other woman on base.
She smiled, slow and unapologetic.
âIâm going out.â
Syd turned back toward the desk, one eyebrow still raised. âYouâre going out,â she repeated flatly, like she was testing the sentence for hidden explosives. âAs in⊠off base?â
Y/n leaned a hip against the wall. âThereâs a club Yegor was talking about the other day. In town.â
Syd glanced back at the laptop screen, lips pressing together. The document was technically openâbut the only thing written on it was the alphabet, typed out again and again in neat, irritated rows. ABCDEFG⊠over and over. A tell.
Y/n snorted softly. âYouâve been staring at that thing for an hour, havenât you?â
Syd sighed, closing the laptop with a sharp click. âPaperwork after a solo op should be illegal,â she muttered. âMy brain is still in the field.â
âExactly,â Y/n said. âWhich is why youâre coming with me.â
Syd blinked. âIâm what?â
âYou heard me.â Y/n pushed off the wall and pointed at the desk. âYou need noise. Alcohol. Lights. Something louder than your own thoughts.â
Syd hesitated, the ever-present internal rulebook visibly flipping pages behind her eyes. âAre we⊠allowed to?â
Y/n grinned. âI already cleared it with Nikolai. Otherwise I wouldnât be strutting around base dressed like a bad idea.â
âThat doesnât mean itâs smart,â Syd said, though she was already standing.
Y/n laughed. âOne of the best rules to break is sneaking out to drink. Besides, Nikolai doesnât even sneak. He drinks in his office sometimes.â
âNikolai is our boss,â Syd said, moving toward her closet. âHe makes the rules.â
âWhich is why he doesnât care if we bend themâas long as we donât make messes he has to clean up.â Y/n smirked.
Syd pulled out a pair of shorts and a tank top, tossed them onto the bed, then shut the door fully, as it hadnât done so when it closed behind Y/n. She glanced over her shoulder, eyes narrowing just a touch. âYou hate clubs. You like bars. Quiet ones. So why now?â
Y/n didnât answer right away.
She folded her arms, jaw tightening just a little. âSebastianâs being an asshole.â
Syd froze for half a second before turning back. âOf course he is.â A beat. âWhat did Sebastian do this time?â
Syd started stripping without ceremony, tugging her shirt over her head. Y/n automatically looked awayânot out of modesty, but out of habit. Privacy was a loose concept in their line of work, but courtesy still existed.
âWe were bantering,â Y/n said. âLike always.â
âBantering, flirting,â Syd corrected lightly. âYou two are mean to each other for fun.â
âExactly,â Y/n snapped, frustration bleeding through now. âHe was flirting with me during that mission in Gabon. Hard. And I was flirting back. And now?â She threw her hands up. âNothing. No banter. No snide comments. Not even the usual passive-aggressive bullshit.â
She crossed her arms and huffed. âItâs weird.â
Syd tugged her hair free from its bun, fingers working through the tight knots. âAnd youâre shocked becauseâŠ?â
âIâm not shocked,â Y/n said. âIâm annoyed.â
Syd glanced at her through the mirror. âYou know he does that on purpose sometimes. Pulls back to see how people react.â
âThatâs what I thought too,â Y/n admitted. âUntil today.â
Syd paused. âWhat happened today?â
Y/n grabbed the brush from the desk and stepped closer, gently running it through Sydâs hair. âI was joking with Nikolai. About a plane ride I had once. You know the story.â
Syd hummed. âAirport security. The American guy?â
âThe one where I flirted with the guy patting me down,â Y/n confirmed. âNormally Seb laughs. Or makes it worse.â
âAnd this time?â
Y/nâs hand stilled. âHe snapped. Flat-out said it wasnât funny.â
Sydâs reflection frowned. âThatâs⊠not like him.â
âNo,â Y/n agreed quietly. âIt wasnât teasing. It wasnât dry. He sounded⊠serious.â
Sydâs lips pressed together as her mind churned. âThatâs not about the joke.â
âNo,â Y/n said. âItâs about something else. And I hate not knowing what.â
Syd turned to face her fully now. âSo youâre going clubbing to poke the bear.â
Y/nâs smile was sharp. âIf heâs trying to get a reaction out of me, I might as well return the favour and get one out of him.â
Syd studied her for a moment, then shook her head with a small, resigned laugh. âYou know this is exactly what he wants, right?â
âMaybe,â Y/n said. âBut I want to feel normal for a night.â
Syd grabbed her jacket. âThen letâs go drink somewhere loud before Krueger decides to glare holes through the walls.â
Y/n smirked. âThatâs the spirit.â
Syd opened her door again, and the two of them stepped out into the hallway. The door clicked shut behind them, and Y/n waited while Syd locked it, the familiar metallic sound echoing softly down the corridor before they moved on.
The hall was quietânot silent, but subdued. A few operators passed them, boots muffled against the worn floors, nodding in recognition but not stopping. Most people were either already out, holed up in their rooms, or asleep. âClubbing hourâ thinned the population on base in a predictable way: the ones who needed noise and distraction had already left, and the rest conserved energy like it was currency.
Private military companies were nothing like national militaries, even when they operated with the same level of force and discipline. Chimera especially didnât pretend otherwise. Nikolai had never enforced mandatory wake-up calls or curfews. No lights-out. No mandatory morning formations unless there was training, security duty, or a mission briefing. Operators were expected to manage themselvesâand most of them did.
That didnât mean there wasnât structure. It just meant it was internal.
Most people on base still clung to the schedules theyâd come in with. Former soldiers woke up early out of habit. Others stayed up late, running drills alone or lifting in the gym at two in the morning. Those whoâd just come back from a mission often disappeared for a day or two, doors shut, windows dark, bodies recovering from adrenaline, injuries, and the quiet that followed both.
Y/n liked that no one questioned it.
Chimera wasnât just a PMC with rented barracks or temporary safehousesâit had a full, private military base. The bones of it were old, clearly once used by a national force before being quietly repurposed. Operators were encouraged to live on base, though no one was forced to. For Y/n, it was an easy choice.
She didnât know what Nikolai had doneâor who heâd paidâto secure a place like this, and she didnât ask. Some things were better left untouched. Coming from Norway, where rules were layered thick and reinforced constantly, she found the base oddly comforting. Familiar. Clean lines, secure perimeters, predictable routines. It felt like home in a way she hadnât expected.
She missed her country. She missed the forests, the cold that bit deep into your lungs, the language that felt automatic instead of chosen. She missed the military sheâd grown up watching and eventually joined. But there were parts of Chimera she wasnât sure she could ever give up now.
Like being allowed to drinkâwithin reason. As long as you were sober when it mattered, no one cared. No breathalyzers. No random inspections. No treating grown adults like children who couldnât manage their own limits.
She didnât have to wake up at a specific hour unless she was scheduled. She didnât have to justify skipping the gym for a day, or spending hours in the shooting range if she wanted. Fitness tests mattered. Performance mattered. Everything else was left up to the individual.
Back home, sheâd been up at six every morning. Lights out by ten unless there was a damn good reason otherwise. No alcohol. No excuses. Late once, and it followed you. Late twice, and you paid for it.
Here, she slept when she needed to. No one dragged her out of bed by her feet in pajamas. No one banged on her door until she answered. Sleep was treated like a resource, not a weaknessâand she was fairly certain Nikolai agreed, given that he was either in bed by nine or not sleeping at all.
Syd, walking beside her, followed a schedule closer to what sheâd known in the American military. Early mornings. Constant training. Pushing herself until she had paperwork or something else that forced her to slow down. She called her family regularlyâat least once a week. Y/n respected that. In their line of work, every goodbye carried weight. One day, a mission wouldnât end with a call home.
Y/n had family too. They called her more than she called them. Her parents never stopped trying to convince her to come backâto rejoin the Norwegian Army, to use her experience, to climb ranks sheâd already proven she could reach. Her brothers, both older and both still serving, pushed less. They didnât care where she worked, as long as she stayed alive.
They were a military family. Five years minimum, everyone. Some stayed longer. Some didnât. Y/n had done her five, finished her contract, and walked away clean.
Sheâd spent a year with KorTac after that. Liked the freedom. Liked the lack of flag-waving and politics. Another PMC followed, then another. And then Nikolai had asked her himself.
In person.
Sheâd said yes without hesitating.
Chimera suited her. The people. The balance between discipline and autonomy. Nikolai had been a soldier onceâhe worked alongside task forces from different countriesâand it showed. He understood what operators needed to function long-term. He made sure they were fed, rested, paid, and not burning out under pointless restrictions.
As they walked toward the exit, Y/n glanced down the corridor one last time. The base hummed quietly around them, alive but restrained. She knew, without doubt, that sheâd be here for the rest of her working life.
Some places let you survive.
Chimera let you breathe.
âYou driving, or me?â Y/n asked as they finally reached the parking garage.
The garage sat beneath the main structures of the base, wide and concrete-heavy, lights humming softly overhead. Rows of vehicles were parked with deliberate spacing, every one of them clean, serviced, and ready to move at a momentâs notice. Nothing was left outsideânot in this climate, not with the kind of enemies Chimera attracted. Weather ruined engines. People ruined everything else. Inside, at least, both risks were controlled.
âIâll drive,â Syd said, already reaching behind herself.
She pulled her keys from her back pocketâsomehow retrieving them without Y/n ever having seen her put them thereâand pressed the unlock button as they walked. Somewhere to their left, a dark SUV blinked its lights once, then again, the soft honk echoing briefly through the garage before the locks disengaged with a dull, mechanical thud.
Y/n circled around to the passenger side but didnât touch the handle until Syd was seated and the driverâs door was shut. Sheâd learned that lesson the hard way more times than she cared to admit. Some of the vehicles that people used were finickyâdesigned to prioritize the driverâs side first, locking everything again if you tried the wrong door out of sequence.
She slid into the passenger seat, the leather cool against her skin, and buckled in just as Syd started the engine. The low rumble filled the enclosed space, vibrating faintly through the floor as Syd eased the SUV out of its spot.
They drove toward the exit in comfortable silence. At the gate, one of the guards glanced up from his post, recognized them immediately, and raised the barrier without a word. The metal arm lifted smoothly, and Syd rolled them out into the night.
The air outside was colder, sharper. The base lights receded behind them as the road stretched out aheadâlong, straight, and mostly empty. Forest pressed in on both sides, dark shapes blurring together as Syd accelerated. The tires hummed against the asphalt, a steady sound that settled into Y/nâs bones.
Syd drove the way she did everything else: controlled, deliberate, and with no wasted movement. Both hands on the wheel. Eyes scanning the road, mirrors checked at regular intervals. Even off-duty, she never fully shut it off.
Y/n leaned back in her seat, one knee angled toward the dashboard, fingers drumming lightly against her thigh. The radio stayed off. Neither of them reached for it. The silence wasnât awkwardâit was familiar.
âStill think this is a good idea?â Syd asked after a few minutes, eyes never leaving the road.
Y/n shrugged. âDepends what you mean by good.â
Syd huffed quietly. âThatâs not an answer.â
âItâs the only one Iâve got.â
They passed a sign marking the turnoff toward town, the glow of distant streetlights faint on the horizon. Civilization always felt strange after time on baseâtoo open while also being too closed and too exposed. Y/n felt the shift in herself as it approached, the way she always did. A loosening. A tension she didnât realize sheâd been holding until it started to ease.
She thought, briefly, of Sebastian.
Of the way his eyes tracked everything without seeming to. Of the silence he wielded like a blade. Of how heâd looked at her earlierâmeasured, unreadable, and serious in a way that didnât fit their usual rhythm.
She exhaled through her nose and stared out the window instead.
Syd caught the movement from the corner of her eye. âYouâre in your head.â
âYeah,â Y/n admitted. âTrying to get out of it.â
âThatâs what the club is for,â Syd said. âNoise. Distraction.â
Y/n smirked faintly. âLiquid confidence.â
âTemporary,â Syd replied. âBut effective.â
The road narrowed as they got closer to town, buildings replacing trees, neon signs flickering to life as they passed. Music thudded faintly through the air from somewhere aheadâbass-heavy, distant but unmistakable.
Syd slowed as they approached the cluster of parked cars near the club district, scanning for a spot. âWe donât stay too late,â she said. âAnd we leave together.â
âAlways,â Y/n said easily.
The SUV eased into a space, engine cutting off with a soft click. For a moment, neither of them moved. The night waited outside the windshield, loud and bright and alive.
Whatever Krueger thoughtâwhatever game he was playingâcould wait.
Tonight was theirs.
âSo,â Syd said as they shut the doors and merged into the slow-moving line outside the club, âhow exactly is showing up here supposed to piss Krueger off?â
The night was loud in a way the base never was. Music bled out through the walls in heavy, rhythmic pulses, vibrating through the pavement beneath their boots. Neon lights flickered above the entrance, casting everything in washed-out blues and reds. People laughed too loudly, talked too close, and leaned into each other with an ease that came from alcohol and anonymity.
Y/n shrugged, hands shoved into the back pockets of her jeans. âSimple. I find a good-looking guy, flirt with him, maybe let it go a bit further if I feel like itâand then let the rumours do what rumours do.â
Syd glanced at her sideways. âYouâre really going to do that just to get a reaction out of him?â
âSeb wants to stop flirting with me, stop bantering, and stop being a pain in my ass and suddenly be very serious with me while flirting with other girls?â Y/n said lightly. âFine. Iâll stop giving him exclusive access to my attention.â
Ahead of them, two large men stood on either side of the doors. Broad shoulders, black shirts, practiced expressions. They checked IDs, asked questions, and waved people through with quiet efficiency. It wasnât aggressiveâmore⊠watchful.
Y/n actually appreciated that. A club that actually cared whether people got home alive was a rare thing. Though, this club probably just wanted their customers to come back and not sue them.
The line shuffled forward, inch by inch.
âAre you two actually a thing?â Syd asked, casual but observant. âIâve heard people on base whispering about it.â
Y/n let out a short laugh. âNo. Weâre not.â
âBut,â Syd pressed, stepping forward as the line moved again, âyou flirt constantly.â
âYeah,â Y/n said. âBecause itâs fun.â
Syd tilted her head. âMost people flirt because theyâre interested.â
âMost people also think flirting automatically means feelings,â Y/n replied. âOr they take it seriously. Or they canât keep up. Seb can.â
âThat doesnât answer why you only do it with him.â
Y/n frowned, irritation flickering across her face before she smoothed it out. âBecause he doesnât make it weird. He doesnât think itâs romantic. He doesnât expect anything from it.â
Syd hummed softly, unconvinced. âAnd you know that how?â
âI just do,â Y/n said, though her tone wasnât as confident as she wanted it to be. âHeâs⊠different. He flirts like itâs a game. Like sparring.â
âAnd youâre sure youâre both playing the same game?â
Y/n opened her mouth to respondâbut the line moved again, cutting the moment short.
Syd tapped her shoulder lightly. âIDs.â
Both women pulled their identification from their pockets as they reached the front. One of the bouncers glanced at Syd first.
âEvening,â he said.
âEvening,â Syd replied, handing over her ID with a polite nod.
Y/n passed hers to the other man. âHey.â
The bouncers compared faces to photos, eyes sharp but not unfriendly. One handed the IDs back after a minute.
âDo you have a safe way home tonight?â he asked.
âI drove,â Syd said easily. âBut weâll call someone if we need to. Weâre not doing anything stupid.â
âAnd weâll sober up before we leave,â Y/n added. âPlenty of time.â
They didnât mention Chimera. Didnât mention the base. Just two women out for a night, like anyone else. The bouncers exchanged a glance, satisfied.
âAlright,â one said, stepping aside. âHave fun. Be safe.â
The doors swung open, music surging forward as they stepped inside.
As the bass hit her chest and the lights swallowed them whole, Y/n felt the last threads of base-life tension loosen.
âAlright,â Syd said as they stepped fully into the main floor of the club, slowing just enough to take it all in. âWhere exactly are we sitting?â
The place was packed without being suffocating. Music rolled through the room in heavy waves, bass rattling glasses and vibrating through the soles of Y/nâs boots. Coloured lights swept over clusters of peopleâsome dancing, some drinking, some leaning close enough that whatever they were saying was clearly not meant for anyone else to hear. Tables were scattered unevenly around the edges, different styles mashed together like the club had been furnished by theft rather than design.
âOne where we can see everything,â Y/n said, eyes already moving, tracking exits, the bar, the dance floor, and the darker corners. âBut where people can also see us.â
Syd huffed. âOf course.â
They stood still for a moment, letting the crowd flow around them as if they were rocks in a river. Y/n scanned quickly and efficiently, the way she always didâeven here. Old habits didnât shut off just because the lighting was better and the drinks were stronger.
âThere,â Y/n said, pointing.
It was a corner table with one of those semi-circular, squishy benches that clubs and restaurants loved to use. Big enough for four people, positioned just far enough from the dance floor to avoid being jostled but close enough to keep a clear line of sight. Corner tables were prime real estateâcomfortable, contained, and defensible.
And empty.
âMove,â Y/n added.
They slipped through the crowd without hesitation, sidestepping elbows and spilled drinks with practiced ease. The table was theirs within seconds. Both of them sat down quickly, phones placed flat on the tabletop like markers staking a claim.
âIâll grab drinks,â Syd said, already turning her attention toward the bar. The staff moved fastâblack uniforms, confident hands, bottles flashing under the lights. âWhat do you want?â
âVodka,â Y/n said immediately. âWhatever doesnât taste like regret. I need at least one drink in me before I start picking my target.â
Syd stared at her. Then laughed. âYouâre unbelievable. Just sitting here like youâre shopping.â
âAt least Iâm honest about it,â Y/n shot back. âAnd Iâm not harassing anyone. Half the people here came for the same reason. You go to bars to drink with friends. You come to clubs to get drunk and flirt with strangers.â
Syd shook her head, amused despite herself. âYouâre just as bad as the creepy guys.â
âDifference is,â Y/n said lightly, leaning back against the bench, âIâll take a hint.â
âMm-hmm.â Syd smirked. âTwo vodkas?â
âAnd two shots,â Y/n added. âDealerâs choice.â
âYou are nasty,â Syd said, already stepping away.
Y/n blinked. âYouâre the one who gutted a guy because he swallowed a USB.â
Syd paused mid-step, glancing back. âKrueger shot him before we could extract it. Digging through guts was still better than digging through shit.â
Y/n grimaced. âShouldâve let Seb do it.â
âHe wouldâve enjoyed it,â Syd said flatly, making a face. âWhich is exactly why he was on sniper duty.â
She turned toward the bar again, tossing over her shoulder, âNow hush. Sit still. And try not to start a war before I get back.â
Y/n smiled to herself and let her gaze drift back over the room.
Somewhere between the lights and the music, she could almost feel Kruegerâs absence.
And that, annoyingly enough, made the night more interesting.
Y/n didnât even get the chance to start scanning the room for a target.
A shadow fell across the table, and a glass was set down with a soft clink near her phone. She looked up just as a man smiled at herâeasy, practiced, not aggressive.
âHey,â he said, lifting his chin in a casual greeting. âThis table taken?â
Y/n didnât answer right away.
She assessed him the way she always didâautomatically, instinctively. It wasnât judgment so much as habit, a survival reflex sharpened by years of needing to know who was safe, who was useful, and who was neither. Clubs were no different from crowded streets or transit hubs. People blended. People lied. People tried.
He looked⊠normal. Jeans, clean and well-fitted. A university hoodie that suggested heâd come straight from somewhere comfortable rather than trying too hard to impress. His smile wasnât forced, and there was a faint flush to his cheeks that spoke more of alcohol than nerves. His hair was short, styled with care but not obsession. No ring on his fingers. No obvious scars on his hands, face, or neckânothing that jumped out as a warning.
He smelled clean, too. A light cologne, subtle enough that she had to lean in slightly to register it. That alone put him several points above half the men sheâd encountered in places like this. Too many thought cologne was a substitute for hygiene. Sheâd seen worse on missionsâsweat, smoke, bloodâbut that didnât mean she wanted to sit next to it voluntarily.
She tilted her head, resting her chin lightly on her knuckles.
âNo,â she said at last, voice smooth. âWe have room.â
Relief flickered across his faceâquick, then gone. He slid onto the bench across from her and sat.
âWe?â he asked, glancing at the empty seat beside her.
Y/n reached out and slid Sydâs phone closer to her own without breaking eye contact, the movement casual but deliberate. Clubs were prime hunting grounds for pickpockets, and in her experience, the smartest thieves never looked the part. They looked like himâclean, friendly, forgettable.
âMy friendâs grabbing drinks,â Y/n said. âYou here with anyone?â
âYeah,â he laughed, scratching the back of his neck. âMy brother and a few friends. Theyâre over by the pool tables, already making bad decisions.â
She clocked the gestureânervous, but not panicked. Social nerves, not predator nerves.
âSo you decided to abandon them and make new friends?â she teased.
He smiled wider. âSomething like that.â
âIâm Kirsten,â she said, offering a hand.
She watched his fingers as he took itâcallused just enough to suggest he worked with them sometimes, but not rough. His grip was firm without being possessive.
âPierre,â he replied. âNice to meet you, Kirsten,â he repeated, tasting the name. âYou donât hear that one often. And youâve got an accent.â
She smiled, amused. âSo do you.â
âYeah?â He leaned back slightly, studying her. âYou Swedish?â
She nearly laughed. âNorwegian.â
âAh,â he said, raising his hands in surrender. âClose enough?â
âCareful,â she replied lightly. âThatâs how wars start. You, uhâyours doesnât sound perfect though.â
He chuckled. âBecause it isnât.â
âEngland?â She guessed.
âTry again.â
âHmm, American?â
âSpot on.â He grinned.
She pretended to look surprised. âReally?â
âShockingly,â he said, playing along. âOn holiday. First time out here.â
âAnd?â she prompted.
He took a sip of his drink, eyes drifting around the club. âItâs⊠a lot. In a good way. Iâve never heard so many languages in one room before.â
âWhen people drink, they default,â Y/n said. âItâs easier to think in your first language.â
âThat explains why my brotherâs girlfriend gets louder in Spanish,â he said.
She hummed, glancing past him toward the bar. Syd was leaning casually against the counter, chatting with the bartender while their drinks were being poured. Comfortable. Alert.
âSo,â Y/n said, turning back to Pierre, âIâve got to ask. Pierre?â
He laughed. âYeah, I get that a lot.â
âAmerican parents feeling adventurous?â
âMy mom lived in Quebec during university,â he explained. âFell in love with the culture. Decided to pass that on.â
âThatâs actually kind of nice,â Y/n said honestly. âAny story behind mine is boring by comparison.â
âNow I have to hear it.â
She shrugged. âMy parents agreedâif I was a girl, my dad named me. If I were a boy, my mom would.â
âAnd the universe decided?â
âApparently.â
âWell,â Pierre said, lifting his glass slightly, âthe universe made a good call. It suits you.â
She smiledânot flirtatious, not dismissive. Measured. âSo Iâve been told.â
Syd appeared beside them then, setting two drinks down on the table. Vodka, clear and cold, condensation already forming on the glass. She took in Pierre with one glanceâcurious, assessing, amused.
âHey,â Syd said easily. âIâm Syd.â
âPierre,â he replied, standing halfway before she waved him back down.
âNo need,â she said, already sitting. Her eyes flicked briefly to Y/nâs phone, then back to him. Not territorial. Just aware.
Y/n wrapped her fingers around her glass and took a slow sip, letting the burn settle in her chest.
She could feel the night opening up around herâthe music, the crowd, the possibilities.
âSo,â Pierre said after a moment, lifting his glass and taking another sip, âwhat brought you two down here tonight?â
The music thumped steadily around them, bass heavy enough that it vibrated faintly through the tabletop. The air smelled like alcohol, perfume, and warm bodies, layered thickly enough that it blurred together into something almost sweet. Y/n leaned back against the cushioned bench, one leg tucked beneath her, posture relaxed in a way that was entirely deliberate.
âJust here to have a bit of fun,â she said lightly, flashing him a wink.
Syd immediately elbowed her in the ribsânot hard, just enough to remind her she wasnât alone. âWorkâs been stressful,â she added, her tone easy but grounded.
Pierre winced in sympathy. âTell me about it. Iâm in business management while doing uni at the same time.â He shuddered dramatically. âAbsolutely miserable.â
âThat sounds like hell,â Syd said sincerely.
âIt is,â he confirmed. âSo what about you two? Where do you work?â
âSecurity,â Y/n answered without hesitation.
The word came easily. Too easily. Lying like that was second natureâno pause, no overthinking. She and Syd had spent years perfecting the art of sounding honest while saying as little as possible. Being women only made it easier. People underestimated them constantly and saw what they wanted to see. A friendly smile. A pretty face. A harmless presence.
It was useful.
âDamn,â Pierre whistled. âThatâs rough. Long hours?â
âLike you wouldnât believe,â Syd said, rolling her shoulders as if already tired just thinking about it. âNight shifts, day shifts, everything in between. And then trying to sleep when your neighbour decides two in the afternoon is the perfect time to blast music?â
She shot Y/n a pointed look.
Y/n lifted her hands innocently. âItâs not my fault you insist on sleeping when Iâm awake.â She turned back to Pierre with another playful wink. âThis woman guards her sleep like itâs classified information.â
Pierre laughed. âI donât blame her. If I donât get enough sleep, Iâm useless.â
âSame,â Y/n hummed, lifting her glass and taking a slow sip.
Syd tipped her head toward Pierreâs drink. âWhat are you having?â
He glanced down at it, frowning slightly. âHonestly? No idea. My brother ordered it, decided it was too strong, and traded me.â He sniffed it. âItâs got a tang to it.â
âLet me try,â Y/n offered, already reaching for it.
Syd sighed. âAlcoholic.â
âI am not,â Y/n said automatically. âNikolai is an alcoholic.â
âJust because he drinks more than you doesnât mean youâre not one,â Syd replied, crossing her arms.
Pierre blinked, clearly lost.
âNikolaiâs a coworker,â Syd said smoothly. âHe usually comes out with us, but heâs stuck working tonight.â
âOh,â Pierre nodded quickly. âGot it. Didnât mean to pry.â
Y/n took a measured sip of his drink, rolling it across her tongue thoughtfully. âPeachy. Vodka base. Sweet, goes down easyâbut thereâs that hand-sanitizer bite.â She handed it back. âIâm guessing rumâs mixed in too.â
Pierre stared at her. âThatâs⊠impressively specific.â
She shrugged. âPractice.â
He laughed, then glanced sideways again, eyes lingering on a table off to the side. His voice dropped slightly. âYou two feeling safe?â
Y/n followed his gaze.
Krueger sat with Yegor and a few others she recognized instantlyâoperators, all of them. Even dressed down, even in the low lighting, he was unmistakable. Blonde hair pulled back. Broad shoulders relaxed in a way that suggested coiled readiness rather than ease. He wasnât drinking much. Just watching.
Their eyes met.
His expression didnât change. But something sharpened.
âWeâre fine,â Syd said easily, waving her hand dismissively. âThose are just people we know. That oneââshe wiggled her fingers vaguely in Kruegerâs directionââgets moody sometimes.â
Krueger narrowed his eyes, then turned back toward Yegor like he hadnât been looking at Y/n at all.
Pierre blinked. âYouâve got a lot of coworkers.â
âWeâre part of an agency,â Syd replied smoothly. âDifferent contracts. Banks, hospitals, and schools. We rotate a lotâkeeps things fair. Harder for anyone to get bribed.â
âSmart,â Pierre nodded. âDo you like it?â
Y/n lifted her glass again, deliberately slow, eyes flicking back toward Krueger once more before returning to Pierre. âItâs interesting,â she said. âWhat about you?â
He brightened instantly. âHonestly? I hate my job. Canât wait to finish uni. Iâm in environmental sciences.â
âOh?â Y/n leaned forward, genuine interest lighting her eyes.
âI want to be a forest ranger,â he continued. âOr work in a national park. Somewhere quiet.â
âThat actually sounds amazing,â she said. âBeing outside all the time.â
âItâs been my dream forever,â he said, eyes drifting briefly over her before snapping back up, a little sheepish.
She smiledânot too much, not too little.
âI wanted to be a police officer,â she said lightly. âDidnât quite work out. Now I just do security.â
âI bet you see some stuff though,â Pierre said.
Syd took a sip of her drink, watching the exchange closely.
Y/n reached for the two shot glasses Syd had brought back earlier. âWant a shot?â
Pierre hesitated only a second. âWhy the hell not?â
They counted down together and knocked them back. Y/n barely reacted. Pierre, on the other hand, coughed and reached immediately for his drink.
âJesus,â he spluttered. âWhat was that? Paint thinner?â
âSeventy percent,â Syd said cheerfully. âI was hoping Kirsten would gag.â
Y/n shot her a glare. âIâm not an alcoholic.â
Pierre squinted at her glass. âWhat are you drinking?â
She slid it toward him. âTry it.â
He took a careful sip, nose wrinkling. âFruityâbut a really strong vodka taste.â
Y/n laughed and reclaimed her drink. âGuess weâre just more used to drinking over here.â
She leaned back again, satisfied.
Across the room, Krueger watched her over the rim of his glassâexpression unreadable, jaw tight.
Y/n took another long sip of her drink, the ice clinking softly as she tipped the glass back. The vodka burned less nowâeither the bartender had gone lighter this round, or her body had already adjusted. She let her foot drift forward, brushing Pierreâs leg beneath the table as if by accident, then pulled it back just as casually.
âSo,â she said, leaning in slightly, eyes bright, âbe honest with us, Mr. American.â She flashed him a grin. âEuropean girls or American girls?â
Pierreâs ears turned red almost instantly.
Syd noticed and snickered into her glass. âOh, you broke him.â
âIâuhâhonest?â Pierre asked, glancing around the club, scanning faces as if he expected his brother or friends to materialize out of nowhere and catch him mid-confession.
âWe appreciate honesty here,â Y/n said smoothly. âAnd I wonât tell anyone.â
He exhaled, shoulders sagging in mock defeat. âAlright. European women.â He shrugged helplessly. âI donât know why. Youâre just⊠different. Finer, I guess.â
Y/n smirked. âIâll take that as a compliment.â
âIâm American,â Syd said dryly, lifting her glass. âIâm staying out of this.â
Pierre blinked. âYou are?â
âYeah,â Y/n said before Syd could elaborate, angling her body slightly toward him. âShe moved here for work and never left.â
âBrave,â Pierre laughed.
âWell,â Y/n said lightly, taking another sip, âyou learn a few things over here. Like how to be independent.â
She brushed her foot against his leg againâless accidental this time.
Pierre swallowed, clearly trying to keep up.Â
Syd shot Y/n a warning look. Y/n ignored it. âSo⊠did you come here just to make friends?â
Her head felt pleasantly light now, warmth spreading through her limbs. The shot from earlier chose that moment to remind her it existed.
âWell,â Pierre hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck, his face going even redder.
Y/n nodded knowingly. âYou wanted to go home and tell your friends you hooked up with a pretty European girl.â
Syd laughed into her drink just as Y/n finished hers in two quick swallows, setting the empty glass down with a soft thud.
âDonât say that so loud,â Pierre groaned, half-laughing, half-horrified.
Y/n burst into laughter, Syd joining her. âRelax,â Y/n said, wiping at the corner of her eye. âThatâs not a crime. As long as everyone consentsâand the woman lets you brag.â
She winked.
Pierre buried his face in his arms on the table, shoulders shaking. âYouâre evil.â
âOnly a little,â Y/n grinned.
They kept teasing him like that for a few minutesâlight, harmless, the kind of back-and-forth that made the music and crowd fade into background noise. Eventually Sydâs glass emptied, and she stood.
âIâm getting more,â she said, eyeing Y/n critically. âThat shot hit you harder than you think.â
âGet me another one,â Y/n said immediately, blinking a bit too often.
Syd rolled her eyes. âThis is your last shot. After that, youâre on waterâor Iâm calling Krueger over to escort you home.â
âDonât,â Y/n pouted. âIâm having fun.â
âThen behave,â Syd replied, smirking as she headed toward the bar.
The moment Syd disappeared into the crowd, Pierre leaned closer. âIf you want another shot, my brotherâs got a bunch.â
Y/n blinked at him. âReally?â
âYeah. She wonât notice if weâre quick.â
She pretended to think about it, lips pursed dramatically. âI donât want to be called an alcoholic.â
Pierre laughed. âHow much do you actually drink?â
âLike⊠once a month,â Y/n said, words starting to blur together just a little. âCanât drink much when Iâve got work.â
âThen youâre fine,â he said easily, standing and offering her his hand.
She took it, wobbling slightly as she stood. âFuck,â she laughed, bending forward a bit. âThat shot was strong. I need to piss.â
âIâll take you,â Pierre said, arm slipping around her waist to steady her.
Across the room, brown eyes followed them.
The bathroom was chaosâmusic muffled through the walls, women packed shoulder to shoulder, and laughter bouncing off tiled surfaces. Y/n ended up sitting on the floor for a few minutes, tryingâand failingâto help another drunk girl fix her hair. They dissolved into giggles instead, Y/n brushing the girlâs hair with her fingers until it looked marginally better.
âGood enough,â the girl declared, helping Y/n up.
They staggered back out together, still laughing, before peeling off in different directions. Pierre caught Y/n by the arm just in time to stop her from walking straight into a wall.
âCareful,â he said gently, guiding her toward the stairs at the far side of the club.
A group of men stood thereâsimilar build, similar clothes, similar accents. Americans. Pierreâs people.
Y/n leaned into him slightly, still smiling, the room spinning just enough to feel dangerousâbut fun.
âFuck,â Y/n muttered, the word dragging out of her mouth as she blinked hard, the room tilting no matter how much she tried to focus. The music felt too loud now, each beat thudding behind her eyes. âOkay. Maybe⊠maybe no more shots.â
She stared at the men around the table like they were arranged slightly wrong, faces blurring at the edges. Her head felt wrapped in cottonâwarm, heavy, and distant.
âI think youâre good,â Pierre said quickly, leaning closer. âYou alright?â
âDizzy,â Y/n mumbled. Her tongue felt thick. âI need to sit.â
âYeahâhere.â Pierre pulled a chair out for her, steadying it with one hand as she swayed.
She barely registered the seat behind her before a handâlarger and firmer than Pierreâsâclosed around her bicep and yanked her upright.
Y/n gasped softly, blinking up at the man in front of her.
There were two of him.
Both blond. Both sharp-eyed. Both unmistakably Sebastian Krueger, standing far too close. The double image swam before finally snapping into one as her vision struggled to cooperate.
Pierre took an instinctive step back, whatever buzz heâd been riding evaporating in an instant.
âWhat are you doing over here?â Krueger asked calmly.
His eyes never left Pierre.
âJustâuhâdrinking,â Pierre said with a nervous smile. âHaving a few shots.â
Krueger didnât respond. His attention shifted abruptly to Y/n. He tilted her chin up with two fingers and pried one eyelid open, studying her pupil with unsettling focus.
Too wide.
Not just drunk-wide.
His jaw tightened.
âHi, Seb,â Y/n slurred finally, the effort of forming words exhausting. She tried to pull away from his grip and promptly lost her balance, stumbling forward.
Krueger didnât catch her.
Pierre did.
The Americanâs hands went automatically to her waist, steadying her as she giggled faintly and leaned into him, cheeks flushed, eyes unfocused.
Kruegerâs mouth curved into something that looked like a smileâbut wasnât.
âWhat are you doing with this guy?â He asked, his voice deceptively light as he looked at Y/n.
She scrunched her nose, visibly fighting through the fog in her head. The thought process was slow, like wading through water. Then it clicked.
âHe wants to fuck a Euro woman,â she slurred bluntly, leaning harder into Pierre, her legs refusing to cooperate.
Pierre froze.
Kruegerâs eyes flickeredâamusement, recognition, something sharper underneath. âOh?â he said softly. âYou flirt with him a lot, then?â
Pierre swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close he was standing to a man who radiated controlled violence.
âYou were mean,â Y/n accused, pointing unsteadily at Krueger. Her arm dropped, and she pitched forward again.
This time, Krueger caught her.
He pulled her away from Pierre with ease and lowered her to the floor, guiding her back until she was sitting against the wall. She blinked up at him, dazed, breathing shallowly and unevenly.
âYeah,â Krueger said quietly. âI know.â
He crouched just enough to bring his face close to hers, his voice dropping so only she could hear. âBut you donât get to put yourself in danger just to make a point and flirt with other guys when that is our thing.â
Her unfocused eyes tried to follow his face. The words didnât quite land.
âIâll take her home,â Pierre offered quickly, eager to be helpful, eager to escape the tension. âSheâs had way too much.â
Krueger straightened slowly and looked at him.
âReally?â he asked, lips curling into a thin, knowing smirk. He stepped aside and gestured toward the exit. âBe my guest.â
Pierre blinked, confusedâbut he didnât hesitate. He helped Y/n to her feet, then, realizing she couldnât walk, scooped her up carefully and headed for the doors.
Krueger watched them go.
He didnât move until they were almost out of sight.
âKrueger?â Sydâs voice cut in sharply.
She stood beside him now, eyes narrowed as she watched Pierre carry Y/n out. She set the drinks sheâd been holding down hard on the table. Yegor immediately grabbed one.
âWhatâs happening?â
Syd stepped forward, but Krueger caught her wrist without looking.
âDonât,â he said calmly. âIâll take her back.â
Syd searched his face for a long second, then let go. âSheâs not just drunk,â she said quietly.
âI know,â Krueger replied.
He waited a beat longer, then followedâmoving not toward the parking lot, but toward the darkened building next door. Its windows were broken, its interior abandoned.
He slipped inside through a shattered pane with barely a sound.
Pierre was there, standing awkwardly with Y/n in his arms, her head lolling against his shoulder as she tried to make sense of where she was.
Krueger stepped out of the shadows.
Pierre turned too late.
His eyes widened as he registered the figure stepping out of the shadows, and the sudden shift in his grip sent Y/n slipping from his arms. She hit the concrete with a dull thud and immediately started whining, curling in on herself, disoriented and miserable.
Krueger watched it happen with open amusement.
He didnât rush. He didnât shout. He simply advanced, boots echoing softly in the empty space as Pierre scrambled backward, panic stripping the drunken bravado from his face. He backed up until metal met his spineâa support pole, cold and unforgiving.
The knife appeared in his hand as if it had always been there.
Pierreâs gaze locked onto it, breath hitching. âWhatâwhat are youââ
âShhh.â Krueger lifted a finger, smiling faintly. âTalking doesnât help you now.â
Pierreâs eyes darted wildly. âWho the fuck are you?â
Krueger didnât answer. Pierre reached for his back pocket on instinct, and in a single smooth motion, Krueger caught his wrist and twisted. The phone clattered to the ground, skidding away before Pierre could react.
Krueger kicked it out of reach.
âYouâre very lucky,â he said conversationally, stepping closer. âIf she werenât drugged, you wouldnât still be standing.â
âI didnâtââ Pierre started, voice cracking.
Krueger tilted his head, the gesture curious, almost gentle. âDidnât what?â
The knife pressed lightly beneath Pierreâs jawâjust enough for him to feel it.
âDidnât drug her?â Krueger continued calmly. âDidnât plan to walk her out of here while she couldnât think straight?â He chuckled under his breath. âYouâre not clever enough for that. And even if you wereâsheâd burn your whole world down before we found her.â
âYou canât fucking kill me,â Pierre spat, desperation leaking through.
Krueger laughed softly. âI can.â
The smile faded. What replaced it was flat and absolute.
âAnd I donât like men who do this,â he added. âEspecially not to someone who belongs to me.â
âBelongs toââ Pierre scoffed weakly. âShe looks single.â
Krueger leaned in close. âYou donât need a ring to be claimed.â
What happened next was quick.
Pierre made a soundâshort, strangledâthen collapsed, hands clawing uselessly as his body hit the concrete. Krueger didnât watch him finish falling. He was already turning away.
Y/n whimpered again, shifting where she lay, her face pale and unfocused. Krueger crouched beside her, studying her expression with sharp concern now mixing with the amusement.
âIf you throw up in my truck,â he said dryly, âyouâre cleaning it.â
He hauled her upright with ease, slinging her against his chest as she protested weakly. She clung to his jacket, confused and heavy-limbed.
summary: you misunderstand peter's powers. he's not pleased.
does everyone have a life except me?
he groaned and threw his head, slightly dizzy from the spinning. he got up and glanced out the window. it was really nice outside, patrolling wouldn't hurt. peter got into his "spidey suit," y/n had insisted on calling it that, despite the fact it took the coolness away. he pushed open the window gently, and hopped out, shooting a web to the nearest building he could see. peter swung from there, hollering in joy.
spidermaning could be stressful at times, but these moments made swinging around in clad spandex worth it. he did a couple flips and tricks, making sure to impress the public before landing on a building to take a breath. he grinned up at the sky and took off his mask, hands on his knees trying to get his heart rate back to normal.
peter's phone rang in his back pocket, and he pulled it out, checking the caller. he subconsciously smiled, seeing as it was his beautiful girlfriend. giddy, he answered.
"hey, y/n!"
"peter! peter! oh my god!" there was panic in her voice, and he felt the hairs on this neck rise. something was wrong, he knew it, given there was a tingling feeling at the back of his head.
"what's wrong? y/nâ"
"hurry! i can'tâ i don'tâ" the scream she lets out makes peter's blood freeze. before he can get even another word in, the line goes dead.
"y/n? y/n!"
he clumsily stuffs his phone in the pocket and takes off the building. peter can't lose her. she's all he has. the yell echos in his head, urging him to go faster. an even worse thought enters his mind. what if he's too late? what ifâ
no, no. she's okay.
how will he get in? peter left the key back at home, along with literally everything else but his phone.
the window!
he lands on the side of the building, opening the bedroom window- not so gently. he's trying to hurry, but that's just making it harder. finally, the bug gets it open and jumps in.
"i'm here! i'm here! who i have to punch?!" peter looks around for her, before spotting her huddled in the corner of her bedroom, broom in hand. she's wearing one of his old shirts and... no pants? at least none that he can see.
no, no, bad spider, not now.
he rushes over to her, taking y/n's figure into his arms.
"are you okay? are you bleeding? hurt? broken bones? who's there?"
wordlessly, y/n gestures her broom to a spot in front of her, eyes wide. he frantically scans the surface, confused as to why he can't see anything there. peter holds her tighter.
"i don'tâ w-who's there?"
"look!" she hisses.
"i am!"
"look harder!"
"butâ oh. wait, what? are youâ is that a spider you're talking about?"
she nods frantically, poking him with the end of the broom. "go!" y/n yells, waving her hands around wildly.
"where?"
"go kill it!"
"i- no, i'm not gonna kill it. it's not even doing anything! you know, you scared the shit outta me, i was so scarâ"
"well, tell it to leave!"
"...i'm sorry, tell it?"
"you're a spider! can't you talk to them?"
"...what?"
y/n shooed him. "you can't talk to it?"
"no. what? w-were you under the impression that i could talk to spiders for the last two years?"
"that was supposed to be one of the pros of dating you!"
"..."
he sighed and walked over to it, taking the arachnid into his hand. peter turned back around with a shit-eating grin in his face.
"babe..." she warned.
"look, darling! not even a little scary." he held in front of her face, and y/n held her breath.
"i'm gonna fucking break up with you, don't get any closer to me with that- that mini you in your hand!"
he snickered and moved closer.
"peteâ peter benjamin parker, i swear to god that i will get a restraining order against you if you don't get the fuck away from me right now. what would aunt may say about that?"
peter sighed, and took a step back. he moved by the window and let it out, closing it afterwards.
she put the broom away, and went back to whatever the hell she was doing.
"no thank you?"
"oh, trust me, i was gonna give you more than a thank you, given you hadn't pulled that little stunt!"
swiftly, he pinned her again the wall, "like what?"
"now you won't find out."
"really?" before he could say anything more, she pressed her lips to his. "how's that for a thank you?"
this is my first fic so pls dont attack me. (fem insert)
Warnings:Â Language
Word Count: 404
The Avengers were having another mildly enjoyable breakfast. Tony sat on the counter, drinking his third cup of coffee, and chatting with Bruce about renewable energy. Wanda and Nat sat on the couch, chatting about training, new shows they were enjoying and altogether gossip. Thor stood hunched over the sink, shoveling Pop-Tarts in his mouth with Steve, when you rushed into the room. You scrambled around the kitchen. Throwing open cabinets, pulling out drawers, frantically looking for something that seemed very important.Â
â(Y/N)?â
âYeah Tony?â you asked quickly while rifling through drawers, not bothering to look back at him.
âWhatcha you doing?â he asks.
 âNothing,â you say say while pulling out pots and pans.
âLady (Y/N), we can help search if need be.â Thor suggested through a mouthful of strawberry Pop-Tarts.
âYeah, we can hlpth.â Steve said through a mouthful of crumbs.
âNo no, Iâm fine,â you say while ripping the cabinets open. Bucky rounds the corner with one arm, âHey, has anyone seen my arm?â You pale as you slink back towards the hallway trying to make a quick exit.Â
â(Y/N)....?â
 You bolt towards your room as you hear the rest of the Avengers gaining behind you. Steve picks you up, as you kick and yell to be put down. Steve sets you down on a chair as the Avengers surround you. Tony takes a long sip of coffee, sighing, and says, âExplain.â
 âOkay, so I wanted to pull a prank on Bucky, and put magnets on his arm, so I swiped it, and set it in my room, to go get the magnets,â You paused, taking a breath and gesturing wildly with your arms. âand when I came back, it was gone.â You watch the Avengers collectively pinch their nose and face palm, preparing to chew you out. You brace yourself for the inevitable jokes and taunts. Tony starts.
âI canât believe you actually di-â when everyone hears a loud metallic banging. Everyone rushes down the corridor to find the source of the noise. They round the corner, and are greeted by a muscular, silver arm, half covered in magnets, lying on top of a large vent. Everybody glanced around in confusion. Nat sighed and pointed above the vent at the gaping hole in the ceiling. There was more muffled metal banging and shuffling above them. They hear Clintâs voice echoing through the vents, âshit shit shit shit SHIT!â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Category: Friends To Lovers, Miscommunication Troupe, Jealousy, Angst, Fluffy Ending.
Summary: You and Rhett are best friends and the both of you want to be something more, but when Rhett see's you showing a new guy around town he panics and tries to cut you off. When Rhett doesn't show up for your weekly lunch you know somethings wrong. You go and confront him leading to something you've been waiting for since you met him.
Masterlist
Based Off This Ask Here!
Warnings: Rhett is a bit of a dick when he's jealous. big miscommunication and lack there of. Reader and Rhett dance around their feelings. Reader and Rhett both have some self deprecating thoughts at one point. Rhett calls reader Darlin'. No use of Y/N, no description of reader.
Notes: Aaa!! Anon thank you sm for requesting this. I had so much fun getting to write this and do the miscommunication trope, it was a lot of fun and I hope it lived up to your expectations. â€ïž
Edited â
Rhett was pacing the length of his porch back and forth.
His boots scuffed against the wood, while he held his hat firmly in his hands, his jaw tight and clenched.
Heâd been pacing like this all morning. He didnât head into town, he didnât respond when Perry asked what his damn problem was. Just muttered some excuse about having a problem with his truck. But the problem definitely wasnât his truck. It was you.
You had been walking down Main Street. You were wearing a sundress, the one that always made Rhettâs heart beat ten times faster. But it wasnât the sundress that had caused this, no. It was the fact that there was a guy walking next to you, you were laughing, your shoulderâs occasionally bumping while the guy was carrying a bag like heâd just taken you shopping.
It had stopped Rhett dead in his tracks and made him feel like he was shoved underwater. Heâd been halfway to the hardware store, a list in his hand when he saw you. And everything else just disappeared from his mind.
You didnât even see him, too busy laughing at something the man next to you had said. And that had hurt him more than anything.
Heâd liked you for years.
Hell, maybe he even loved you. But he never told you because you were his absolute best friend. You were the one person in town who didnât see him as a complete mess or a rodeo star, you saw him for him, and you never made him feel like he had to prove himself around you.
With you, he felt like he could breathe. He didnât want to screw that up, he didnât want to lose the one good thing that made sense in his life.
Youâd always show up on the ranch with two coffees and a bag of mini donuts. Youâd dragged him to a county fair once just because heâd never been. You took him out of town and made him go shopping with you while he grumbled but the smile never left his face. But yet you never made a move. So neither did he.
And now? Now he was pretty damn sure heâd waited too long to tell you.
It was Thursday, the day you and Rhett have met for lunch at the same time for over a year. Â
You sat at the diner table alone, the same booth the two of you always claimed in the corner of the diner. You had two coffees on the table while your stomach sat in knots that twisted tighter every time the door chimed open and Rhett wasnât the one walking in.
You checked your phone, there were no texts, no calls, not even a voicemail. There was just nothing. Your mind raced with thoughts of what couldâve happened. Did something happen? Was he hurt? You knew he could be reckless sometimes, riding too fast, driving too far without saying anything.
But something in your gut said this wasnât that, because no matter how reckless Rhett was, he always came back to you. This was something else, and something you didnât understand.
You sat there for twenty more minutes. The waitress coming by and gave you a sympathetic look as you pushed your fries around your plate without really eating. You smiled through the ache that sat heavy on your chest and said âI guess heâs just busy.â But the truth? It really fucking hurt. It felt like something in you had cracked open, and now all the doubt and worry was rushing in, swarming your thoughts about what happened. What you did wrong. Because Rhett never skipped lunch, not once in an entire year.
That night you didnât sleep. You stared at your ceiling, wide awake while your heart pounded in your chest thoughts running the worst scenarios through your head. Was it something you had said? Something you didnât say?
Had he finally gotten tired of you and your chaotic antics? You didnât even realize you were crying until you felt the wetness on your pillow, and felt the burn in your eyes.
The next morning you found him by the stables, tossing hay like it had personally wronged him in some way. He looked exhausted, dark circles lined under his eyes, his shirt damp with sweat and his jaw clenched like it was whenever he was upset. You walked closer, softly muttering âHey.â Your voice quiet, but not weak.
Rhett turned slowly, wiping his hands on his jeans, his gaze not meeting your eyes before muttering back a âHey.â
âI brought lunch,â you said, lifting the bag, a small smile crossing your face as you looked at him. He nodded, still not looking you in the eye, before responding. âYou didnât have to.â
You stepped closer, your eyes softening as you felt that heavy weight on your chest âYou skipped yesterday, Rhett.â
Rhett sighed, trying not to lose his temper as he mutters back âWas busy s'all.â before throwing another haystack.
You exhaled sharply, feeling his temper beginning to rise, something he was always careful to watch around you. You softly muttered âRhett, come on. Donât lie to me, we tell each other everything.â
That finally made him look up, and thatâs when you saw it in his eyes, hurt, jealousy, anger. He laughed, but it held no amusement. âFigured you had other plans with your boyfriend.â he said as his eyes darkened
Your stomach dropped entirely as you stared back at him, your mind baffled softly muttering âMy what?â
He shrugged his shoulders with a scoff âThat guy you were with. You looked pretty cozy together.â
Your throat tightened, as you managed to get out, âYou mean Caleb?â Rhett didnât respond. Just turned back toward the haystack like the conversation was over.
You stepped forward, your voice sharp as you exclaimed âRhett Abbott! Caleb Parker is a family friend. His uncle and my dad went to high school together. I was showing him around town while he and his uncle were visiting. He has a girlfriend!âÂ
Then complete silence before you continued, your voice still sharp and thick with emotion now. âYou really think Iâd be with someone and not tell you?â He didnât say anything, the silence deafening to your ears.
You kept going, your voice trembling as you spoke. âI waited for you Rhett. I sat there by myself for almost an hour, waiting for a call, a text, anything. Do you have any idea how that felt? I felt like I didnât matter to you, like I was discarded and thrown away.â
His shoulders tensed as he turned around and looked at you. The guilt shining through his blue eyes.âMâsorry. Mâso Sorry. I just, I saw you with him, and God. I didnât know what to do. I thought youâd moved on and found someone who actually deserved you, more than I ever did.â
Your eyes stung with tears, your body leaning in on itself as you stared at the man youâve had a crush on for years. âI never moved on, because I never had anyone to move on from. Iâve only ever had eyes for one person.â you said softly. Rhettâs head snapped up comedically quick. And you stared straight at him before softly whispering. âYou.â
He blinked as you stepped closed and said âItâs always been you Rhett. I just didnât say anything because I thought maybe you didnât want more than this, and I didnât want to lose what we had.â
Rhett looked at you, his voice full of guilt âI was scared. Scared if I said something, youâd run away, that Iâd ruin the only thing thatâs ever made sense in my life.â
âYouâve always had me Rhettâ You mutter softly, tears streaming down your face, while Rhett looked like he might cry too. He took a few steps forward and pulled you straight into his arms.
His hands wrapped around your shoulder blades and low back, while your arms wrapped tight around his middle and you stood there holding each other tightly as he mumbled a soft âM'so sorry, darlin'â Over and over, like he needed to make up for every second he made you doubt your worth.
âI know Rhett. But youâre here now, thatâs what matters.â You whispered, pressing your face into his chest. He softly grasped your chin making you look up at him as he peered down at you, before pulling you into a soft kiss. A kiss that felt like home.
A week later you slid into your booth and smiled at Rhett who was already there with two coffees and a small bouquet of flowers.
âHey, Darlinâ thought Iâd beat you for once.â He said with a soft grin on his face.
You grinned widely looking at the man in front of you, softly muttering âYou trying to impress me, Abbott?â He leaned closer, lacing your fingers together over the table. âAlways, Darlinâ.â
The waitress stopped at your table and did a double take seeing your hands intertwined. She smiled softly as she went to take your order, muttering âWell, bout' damn time.â
Post Mission Cuddles - Robert Reynolds X Fem!Reader
Pairing: Robert Reynolds X Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff. Hurt/Comfort.
Summary: After an absolutely brutal mission you want nothing more to just curl up in bed and go to sleep. Luckily Bob's right there waiting for you with open arms, a first aid kit, and cuddles that could cure any sore muscle.
Masterlist
Warnings: Reader is injured and has scrapes on their knees, arms, and a gash on their temple. Mentions of violence and reader being an assassin. Reader is alluded to being shorter than Bob. Reader wears Bob's hoodie. Mention of reader having a hard time letting others help her. No description of reader. No use of Y/N.
Itâd had been an agonizingly long day by the time you had gotten back to the tower. Your shoulders were slumped as your boots thudded heavily against the tower floors, your body just defeated from the mission.
The mission itself had gone mostly fine, but you werenât some majorly superpowered-being like the others. You werenât a super soldier that could take a billion hits and be fine, and you werenât some equivalent of a god either. You were a talented assassin and knew how to get jobs done when they needed to be, but you still got hurt, and when you did? It absolutely ached, and hurt like no other.
You knew from the moment you got on the plane to come back that youâd be feeling this mission for the next few days, and you knew the ache when you woke up tomorrow was going to be excoriating.
Each step you took through the now mostly quiet tower felt like your bones were being melted in molten lava as the ache spread due to the adrenaline wearing off. The large blisters on your feet rubbed against the tight leather of your boots and socks causing you to wince with each step you took. While there was a gash on your forehead from where youâd been hit with the back of a gun, and while the bleeding had stopped, the blood was now crusted along your temple line making you irritated as you knew that would sting to clean and be a pain to clean out of your hair.
You wanted exactly two things as you made the short walk to your room, your boyfriend, and some extra strength Advils. You finally reached your door and opened it with a groan, as your shoulder was killing you and even the motion of lifting it to open the knob was excruciating at the moment. But the sight you saw on your bed when the door opened made it entirely worth it.
Bob was laying on your bed in a pair of sweats and a hoodie, one youâd probably ask to steal later. He was laying against the headboard, his legs crossed as he read a book. And god if the sight of your boyfriend looking so cuddly on your bed didnât make you just want to dive into bed and say fuck it to cleaning your wounds. But you knew the moment Bob spotted you, that plan wouldnât be an option.Â
Bobâs head snapped towards you the moment you fully stepped into the room, his eyes immediately widening in concern at the sight of you. Bob instantly put his book down, not even bothering to mark the page and got off the bed, quickly closing the space between you two as he raced over to you.
He reached out and gently placed his hands on your shoulders, his eyes quickly studying over your aching and bruised body. He didnât ask if you were okay, he didnât start lecturing you about being safer on your missions, instead he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you gently into his chest, wrapping you up in the hug you so desperately needed.
You slumped into him letting your body deflate into his and letting him hold you up. It felt like your entire body could finally exhale and breathe for the first time since you left.
Bob felt the way your body leaned into his, and gently kissed the top of your head before whispering. âYouâre safe, youâre home, you're okay, baby. Weâre gonna get you cleaned up.â
You just nodded, your face pressed into his chest and your hands gripping the back of his shirt like he was your lifeline.
You could feel him checking over your body, his hands gently sliding down your arms and back, trying to see where the worst injuries were, gently pressing down when he found a bad spot, trying to make sure that your injuries werenât worse than you may be playing them off to be.
He pulled back just enough to look at your face, his hands gently reaching up to cup your jaw, leaning in to give you a gentle kiss before quietly muttering âc'mere baby, let me fix you up.â
You let him help you change out of your suit and into some sleep shorts and a tanktop, and then let him guide you to sit on the edge of your bed. He wandered into your bathroom and came back with the first aid kit that the two of you kept under there for moments like this. He quickly knelt in front of you as he gently opened the swabs and started disinfecting the cuts along your legs.
You winced at him cleaning one of the worse cuts on your knee, and he paused immediately, looking up at you with a concerned gaze as his other hand reached to your wrist and gave it a gentle squeeze. âAm i being too rough, darling?â You shook your slightly drooping head no, your hoarse voice muttering out a barely audible âno, just stung a bit. Mâjust tired.â
He kissed your knuckles softly before starting to clean them up too. âI know, mâsorry baby. I'll try to be quick and we can get you into bed.âÂ
He continued cleaning you up, making sure to be as gentle as he possibly could with you, stopping if you even let out the faintest wince to make sure you were alright.
He was finally almost done and was finishing up on your temple. He reached up to tilt your chin, his thumb tracing lightly along your cheek. âThank you for letting me take care of you baby. I know itâs not easy for you to let others help, but mâgrateful you let me take care of you, even if itâs hard.â
Your eyes welled up a bit, you were exhausted, your body ached, and your boyfriend was the most amazing person alive who has walked with you throughout countless missions where you once wouldâve been too stubborn for him to even come near you. But now? Now you know youâre safer in his care than anywhere else.
âI love you.â you whispered back, reaching down to squeeze his hand. He just smiled and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, before finishing cleaning up the small gash on your temple. He quickly finished, and unwrapped a yellow smiley face bandaid, something that made your lips quirk up at the sides.
Bob saw your slight smile and gently chuckled as he said, âWe ran out of the plain ones, so smiley faces is what youâre getting, baby.â You shook your head before letting a shaky laugh for the first time that night. âsmiley is good with me.â
Once he placed the bandaid, he gave one last kiss to your forehead before taking off his hoodie and gently placing it on you instead, letting you curl into the feeling of it. He pulled down the comforter on the bed, and gently motioned for you to lay down.Â
You crawled into the warm bed and let out a huge sigh as Bob gently covered you up, before climbing into the bed next to you and pulling you into his arms, being as gentle as he could and minding the bruises littering your sides. You curled against him immediately, tucking your head just below his jaw and tangling your legs with his. The ache in your body, while still present, began to slowly fade at just the feeling of being in his arms.
Bob looked down at you, and ran his hand slowly up and down your spine, quietly whispering to you âI love you baby. Thank you for letting me help you. I know itâs not always easy.â
Your voice was quiet, but assured as you curled deeper into Bobâs hold âI always wanted your help, I just didnât think I deserved it and didnât wanâto be a burden to you.â
Bob just hugged you a bit tighter, his hands never stopping the gentle rubbing against your spine causing you to melt into him. âYouâll never be a burden to me. Youâve seen me at my worst and you didnât run, so iâm not going to run at yours either baby. Iâll always be here to clean you up, even if it takes a lifetime to convince you of it.â
You didnât respond, but the way your body sagged into his told Bob all he needed to know. You knew you didnât have to be strong all the time now, and you knew heâd always be the one there to clean you up when you needed it.
Summary: On a rare morning when you wake up before your boyfriend you get to admire the way the morning sun hits his features just right, until he catches you staring and he want's to know why.
Masterlist
Warnings: Bob pulls reader onto his chest. No description of reader. No use of Y/N.
It was early in the morning, the birds had just started chirping and the morning light had just begun to slip softly through your parted curtains.
The sun casted warm hues of gold and yellows across your bedroom signaling the day that was to come. Your eyes fluttered open as you blinked groggily, your hands coming up to rub your eyes. You knew it was early, but you weren't quite sure what time it was.
You were met with a soft chill from where you and Bob had left the window open last night, a warm bed that was too comforting to even think of leaving, and Bob laying next to you his arm still slung over your shoulder.
Bob was fast asleep beside you, his mouth slightly parted and his long lashes that youâre so jealous of resting against his cheeks. He had a peaceful expression present on his face, obviously still dreaming.
All you could do in that moment was admire how beautiful your boyfriend was. You typically always wake up after him as you're not a morning person, so you never get to really see the way the sun lays on his peaceful features.
You shifted just slightly to get a better look at him as you rolled onto your stomach, resting your chin on your hands as your eyes traced him, taking in the way his hair seemed to illuminate under the morning sun, giving a gold hue to him.
Bob began to stir, his eyeâs flickering open to meet yours. With you staring back at him, a soft smile present on your lips. âMorningâ Bobâs voice rasped out heavy with sleep âYou staring at me, Sweetheart?"
You smiled letting out a small laugh as you were caught red handed. You definitely were staring. âMaybe?â you said your voice equally heavy with sleep.
âMhmm. Should I be flattered or should I be concerned, Baby?â He said with a soft smirk quirking up on his own lips. His eyes closed once again as he laid comfortably against the pillows.
You leaned in and brushed a soft kiss to his cheek before muttering âMâjust admiring my golden boy, can you blame me?âÂ
That made him blush and a crooked grin spread across his face. âYou canât just say things like that first thing in the morning. Gonna be the death of me, Baby.â
He rolled over suddenly, his strong arms coming to wrap around your waist as he pulled you fully on top of him, blankets and all making you shriek as you burst into laughter.
You landed against his chest, now face to face with him. âBob! What are you doing.â you giggled, swatting at his chest but not actually trying to escape your boyfriends tight grasp.
He just held you tighter and buried his face in your neck. âWanted to see my 'golden girl'. Iâm keeping you where I want you, baby. Golden boy privileges after all.â
You laughed even louder, rolling your eyes. âI never shouldâve called you that, Iâve given your ego too much of a boost.â
âI donât know sweetheart, I kinda like when you say it.â He said with a soft smirk before leaning in to kiss you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek while his thumb rubs gentle caresses across your jawline.
You smile into the kiss, softly whispering "All my mornings are golden with you."