Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Reader x Stebbins
Warnings: Dom/Sub dynamics, guided masturbation
Word Count: 1990
Summary:
Sir William Stebbins is a knight of the kingdom, and as such has taken many vows- Including a vow of chastity.
You find a way to work around that vow.
A preview scene of a longer fic, Bring Down The King
TLW Fic Masterlist
Fic Masterlist - Coming Soon
Read on AO3
For the sake of privacy, the two of you had decided to take your meals into Stebbins’ room in the tavern. Said meals had long been finished, the plates left empty on the table you sat at. You’d finished your drink, but Stebbins was still nursing his, his chain-mail taken off for the night, leaving him in a linen shirt and trousers. There was a lull in the conversation.
“So,” You started, looking at Stebbins, “A vow of chastity?”
“Hm. You caught that, did you?” He replied, unphased.
“I’d say I’m surprised, but it does explain a few things,” You teased lightly, smiling at him. He rolled his eyes a little.
“Every knight makes that vow when they’re knighted. It’s included with all the others,” He explained, raising his drink to his lips.
“You know most knights don’t actually keep that particular vow, right?” You asked, watching him closely.
He scoffed into his drink, before pulling the tankard away from his lips to answer, “The ones with no discipline don’t.”
“And you’re so very disciplined, aren’t you?” Your eyes dropped to his lips as he swiped away a drop of mead with his thumb.
“More than most,” He replied.
A smirk pulled at your mouth, and before you could think better you asked, “Do you touch yourself, or does the vow forbid that too?”
He leveled a stern look on you, but you could see a spark in his eye, “You’re asking bold questions.”
“I’m expecting bold answers. So do you?”
He looked at you for a long moment, keeping a straight face as he contemplated, “… Sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
“Not often. But sometimes.”
Your grin grew, “And how do you do it?”
He scoffed again, the corner of his mouth twitching upward, “You want me to tell you?”
“I want you to show me.”
His head tilts slightly, eyes looking you up and down. For a moment, you think maybe you’ve stepped too far, and he’s about to tell you to leave his room. But then his hand drops to his trousers, flattening itself near his crotch. You can’t help the devious smirk that crosses your face as he palms at himself, the sound of his breathing growing heavy and the faintest hint of red gracing his cheeks.
He pauses slightly after a moment, blue eyes boring into you. It’s already rather clear that he’s straining against the confines of his trousers. You prop your arm against the table and lean your head on your hand, still smiling at him. “Well? Go on…”
His grip over his trousers tightens a little, just barely noticeably. He leans an elbow on the table, mirroring you as he covers his mouth with his hand. “It wouldn’t be honorable.”
“I’m not asking you to be honorable, Billy,” You lean forward slightly as you say this, watching the blush grow on his face. A dark look you recognize to be lust flickers in his eyes for a moment. “Just act like I’m not even here.”
“Easier said than done,” He scoffs slightly, gaze roving over you again.
“I can’t be that distracting.”
His head shakes a little, adjusting his hand slightly, and you just catch his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
You’re about to say something, you think it was going to be some clever retort, but you stop when he adjusts himself, unbuttoning his trousers and finally pulling out his cock. You’d seen it before, in brief glimpses when the two of you had gone skinny-dipping, but now your full undivided attention was on it. He was long, thick, and blushing rosy pink at the tip, already leaking lightly.
Warmth spreads over your face and chest at the sight of it, and suddenly you’re wondering how you’re going to maintain your composure. He wraps a hand around the base, and you calmly say, “Wait.”
He pauses, hand still at the base, looking at you expectantly. The redness in his cheeks has spread to his ears and neck, but he still maintains a straight face, even if half of his mouth is covered by his hand.
“Start slowly,” You tell him. He drags his hand up his length— “Slower,” You order.
He lets out a long, barely controlled exhale, closing his eyes as he slowly drags his hand back down.
“Good, just like that…” You encourage, watching him keep the torturous pace intently. He leans his face into his hand, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, trying to keep his breathing even. Torn between wanting to ruin him and wanting to watch him ruin himself, your eyes flick between his covered face and his cock, before saying, “Rub your thumb over the tip.”
Just as told to, his hand pauses the top of his length, his thumb swiping over the tip and smearing the beaded precum collecting there. He shudders, a small moan just escaping his parted lips.
You lean forward in your chair again, licking your lips before speaking, “Keep going… And let me see your face.”
His hand starts slowly pumping again, smearing the precum along his cock. His other hand pulls away from his face, still with his head leaned against it. Face red, his brow is furrowed and mouth slightly agape as he still tries to control his breathing. His eyes are squeezed shut, and you can tell he’s putting most, if not all of his focus into not unraveling yet. You, however, would risk everything to see him unravel just once.
“Squeeze just a little tighter,” You tell him.
His grip tightens and his breath hitches. Cock throbbing in his hand, he gasps for breath, still keeping a slow pace, hand twitching like he’s resisting the urge to speed up. He goes to hide his face in his hand again, before pulling away, as if remembering you wanted to see him.
“Breathe, Billy. You’re doing so good…” You praise, and you can’t decide which is more entrancing, the wrecked expression on his face (still trying so hard to stay composed), or the way his dick twitches every time you speak. Feeling just a little more bold, you add, “Pretend it’s me doing it.”
His cock jumps a little, tip leaking more as he mutters out a barely concealed curse.
A sly grin crosses your face, “Look at me…”
He opens his eyes and looks at you, tears brimming and threatening to spill, still pumping slowly.
“Do you need to stop?” You ask gently.
“No—” He chokes out, nearly cutting you off and shaking his head slightly. “No, no, please…”
Your grin grows, “Speed up.”
A strangled noise escapes from him as he starts pumping faster. His head drops forward as he pants heavily, only for a stern “Billy,” to make him pick his head back up, locking his gaze on you again as a few tears slip out.
"Good… Gods, you’re so pretty…” You croon, digging your nails into your palms to resist the urge to reach out and touch him. Stebbins lets out a small whine at the praise, hand quickening ever-so-slightly. You lean your head on your hand again, doing your best to appear nonchalant, though you can feel the blush on your cheeks. “Do you want to cum, pretty boy?”
He nods quickly, swallowing hard as a few more tears escape those pretty blue eyes of his. His cock is now a furious red, slick and pulsating. Gods, how you want to feel it.
“Use your words, Billy,” You said smoothly.
“Fuck— Yes, yes, please—” He pleads, turning and burying his face in his hand again, other hand still pumping hard at his length.
“Look at me and say what you want,” You insisted, your gaze practically burning a hole through him.
He pulled his hand away from his face as if it pained him to do so, but still, he settled his eyes on you. His gaze was pathetic and pleading, but there were flickers of determination in them. In the time you’d known Stebbins, you knew he was very singular-minded. Any task or mission he was given, he’d achieve it, come hell or high water. This was another task to achieve.
His pumping hand slowed, as he stated (shakily), “I want to cum.”
You smirked, “I never said you could slow down.”
He breathed out a curse, quickening his pace again and wincing slightly as he does. “I-I wanna cum—”
You leaned forward a little, maintaining eye contact the whole way, “Convince me.”
“Please,” He hissed out, “Please let me cum— I beg of you, I’ll do anything— I’ll swear loyalty, to you, to your house— I’ll walk the realm east to west, north to south— Just please let me—” There was a slight laugh to his pleas, like he was well and truly starting to lose his mind. The Mad Knight indeed.
Finally, you decided to give him some mercy. “You can cum, Billy.”
Stebbins let out a choked sob as he came, his head tilting back and tears streaming down his face as white painted his thighs and stomach. A soft moan came from him as the last remnants dribbled out, cum rolling over the fingers still wrapped around him.
You watched him closely, listening to his heavy pants, before finally standing up from your chair and walking over to him. The approach was careful and slow, as if a wrong move would startle him away. He didn’t see your approach, head still leaned back and eyes closed. But when you reached his side and lightly placed your hands on his cheeks, his eyes shot open at your touch, gaze quickly landing on you.
A gentle smile crossed your face as you wiped away the tears staining his cheeks. “You did good, Sir William,” You said softly, “So very good.”
Wordlessly, he closed his eyes again, leaning into your touch. For a moment, his lips brushed against your palm, and a wishful part of you wanted it to be a kiss. His breath was warm against your skin, and his free hand reached up and grabbed your wrist, as if it grounded him. “I… I need to change…” He breathed out, trying to regain his composure.
“Alright… I’ll get you a cloth. I’ll be right back,” You said, resisting every urge in you to kiss his forehead. He let out a broken whine as your hands left his face and you stepped away, your arm pulling out of his grip.
You slunk out of the room, making your way downstairs to the tavern to ask for a wet cloth (“Could I get a wet cloth? There was a spill in my room. No, you don’t have to clean it, I’ll do it myself.”). By the time you came back upstairs, slipping back into his room, Stebbins had worked off his shirt and pants, sitting bare and still a mess. His face was hidden by his hand again, elbow resting against the table.
Returning to his side, you reached down and gently wiped along his bare stomach, where some of his cum had made a mess. He sucked in a harsh breath, pulling his head out of his hand and grabbing your wrist. “Let me—”
“Stebbins,” You give him a pointed look. He looks properly wrecked; hair messed up, lips wet and swollen, eyes still a little teary, a blush lingering on his skin. “Let me take care of you.”
He shakes his head, weakly trying to take the cloth from your hand, “It’s better if I do it.”
“Surely this wouldn’t count,” You lightly argue, “I’m just cleaning you up.”
He lets out a scoff of a laugh, “It very quickly will count if you continue.”
You gape at him, “Already? It hasn’t even been five minutes!”
He shakes his head lightly again, finally pulling the cloth from your grip, “After all that, and you still don’t know what you do to me.”
guys pls don’t let the tlw fandom die … like I mean don’t let ppl stop talking about it or stop writing fics about it & the characters etc 💔 (where’s my collie fics…)
Summary: you and Curly both sign up for the long walk as a joke but he ends up getting in.
Warning: angst with comfort, mentions of death.
A/N: ive been wanting to do this for a while now but I’ve been busy with personal things! Enjoy💛
———————————————————
Curly was your best friend, and you spent most of your afternoons together joking, eating snacks, and watching movies.
But this afternoon was different.
It started as a joke, of course.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if we put our names in for the Walk?” Curly suggested, giggling at the idea.
“We wouldn’t get in anyway we’re young! And I’m pretty sure they fact-check. They’d know we were lying,” you said, trying to explain how dumb his idea was.
But like most dumb teenagers, you both signed up anyway, lying about your age, height, and any other information they asked for.
A funny joke to pass the time. The Major wouldn’t even notice there were a billion other boys signing up.
Little did you know… they didn’t fact-check.
And people were being picked randomly.
——-
A couple of days went by, and honestly, you forgot all about putting in for the Long Walk.
Until there was a frantic knock on your door one early morning.
It was Curly. He had a letter in his hand and the biggest grin painted across his face.
“I got in!” he exclaimed, letting himself inside.
“What—?”
“I got into the Long Walk!”
You studied him as he rambled on about the Walk and the wishes. He looked like he was glowing.
But all you could think about were the boys who never came back.
“It’ll be easy! All I gotta do is walk, and I get a bunch of prize money! Then we can be rich!” He laughed, pacing as he daydreamed about winning.
When he noticed you hadn’t said anything, that’s when he really looked at you.
“Congratulations on getting in, but Curly… it’s not going to be easy.” His smile faded. “I don’t mean it in a bad way, it’s just people… grown men- have been training for this for a long time. And we sit on my roof eating snacks all day…”
“You don’t think I’ll win?” He looked like a kicked puppy.
“No no, of course not! I’m just saying, if you want to win this thing, you’ve gotta train. And I’m willing to help.” You gave him a small smile and a shrug.
Curly relaxed, understanding where you were coming from.
And starting that day, the training began.
——-
Your mornings started with jogging together around the neighborhood. Then some stretching nothing too intense.
You switched to healthier foods so he’d have more energy. (Curly wasn’t a fan at first, but he got used to it.)
Then came the leg workouts.
Curly hated the leg workouts.
“Are you sure this is helping? My legs keep cramping up,” he huffed, trying to catch his breath.
“Maybe the cramping means it’s working,” you shrugged.
“Or it means we’re doing this wrong,” he muttered before sitting down on the grass in front of his house.
You plopped down beside him, and you both lay back, staring at the clouds.
“If I don’t win- if I… you know…” He went quiet for a moment, thinking. “I just want you to know I’m thankful I have you by my side. Don’t be sad if I get my ticket. Just know I tried… for us. Thanks for helping me.”
The words sounded like they physically hurt as they left his mouth.
“Curly White.” You propped yourself up on your arm to look down at him. “You are not going to die. You’ve been training for a month now, and you’re doing great. You’re just as good as any of those boys.”
You scolded him, but your voice cracked. You didn’t like what he was saying.
As the days got closer, you could tell he was getting more nervous.
He’d make side comments or jokes about dying about how embarrassing it would be.
“If I don’t make it, you can have all my crap. But stay away from the band poster above my bed! I’ll haunt you if you take it.”
Or
“Relax! If I drop dead, it’ll look so funny they’ll talk about it for years!”
Every time he said something like that, he didn’t realize how much it broke your heart.
“When you win, Curly- which you will you make that wish, you come home, and you spoil me and your mom, okay?” You smiled at him. “Because I believe in you.”
You watched as tears welled up in his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I’m just worried. I would back out, but there’s too much to gain. And you know how people would be about it. The Major doesn’t like when people back out. And half the town is rooting for me.”
He sat up and looked at you. Both of your eyes burned.
“I’m going to win for the both of us. I promise. You’re my best friend.”
“When you get rich, don’t forget about me,” you joked.
He laughed.
You sat there, hugging, enjoying each other’s company.
And you believed your best friend was going to win.
And that’s all that mattered.
——————-
I have a server for The Long Walk related stuff! Anyone can join, link in comments💛
Summary: Every good relationship has its ups and downs, but when you’re arguing with Gary, it’s like this man is going through the five stages of grief even if it’s over something small.
Warning: Swearing
A/N: I got the idea from someone else I’ll tag them💛 enjoy!
Update: i fixed it so now there IS 5 stages instead of 4🤫💛
——————————————————————————————————
Anger
When you first bring up the situation, no matter how calm you are, Gary always feels threatened. First, he’s shocked that you’d accuse him or even mention the issue at all. Next thing you know, he’s calling you names and dragging up everything you’ve ever done wrong.
You could say something as simple as,
“Gary, I wish you helped around more,”
and suddenly Gary is bringing up last week when you didn’t clean one dish. Or that one time you forgot to let the dog out. Or the other day when you coughed?? You get the point.
When you and Gary fight, he doesn’t let you get a word in.
——-
Denial
After the anger burns itself out, Gary shifts into denial. He insists nothing is actually wrong you’re just overreacting. He’ll tell you you’re “reading too much into it” or that you’re “making a big deal out of nothing.”
“You’re acting like I did something horrible,” he scoffs. “I didn’t even do anything.”
He refuses to acknowledge the real issue, rewriting the argument in his head until he’s the victim. Suddenly, he’s the one hurt that you’d even suggest there’s a problem. If you try to explain yourself, he talks over you, dismisses your feelings, or flat-out changes the subject.
By the end of it, you’re left questioning whether the argument even mattered at all while Gary walks away convinced he’s done nothing wrong.
That’s when the silence starts.
——-
Bargaining
After Gary cools off from an argument that never truly gets resolved, he likes to act like nothing happened. No apologies. No changes. Just another normal day.
When he notices you aren’t talking, he tries small ways to get you to respond.
“Hey babe, I’m ordering dinner. What do you want?”
“Wanna watch a movie? You can pick.”
When that doesn’t work, he somehow thinks being meaner will help.
“If you don’t fix your shit attitude, then I’ll—”
(insert something terrible).
Obviously, that doesn’t work either.
When he realizes you still aren’t talking to him, he starts to self-reflect a little and finally gives you some space.
——-
Depression
Gary still loves you no matter what, so you not talking to him hurts more than he lets on. He thinks about apologizing, but he doesn’t want to seem weak or vulnerable. Truthfully, the lack of communication might be the death of this relationship.
While Gary is “giving you space,” he’s really just orbiting around you. lingering nearby, stealing glances when he thinks you’re not looking. If he’s feeling especially low, he’ll quietly ask,
“Are you mad at me?”
Obviously, he gets no response.
Gary is absolutely going through it when you’re like this. He tries to make things right by fixing whatever started the argument in the first place whether it’s blocking an ex, cleaning up, whatever it takes. He does it because the last thing he wants is his love mad at him.
——-
Acceptance
When Gary finishes fixing the problem, he finally apologizes with a hug and lots of kisses.
“I’m so sorry I said all that to you. You know I didn’t mean it.”
He promises it’ll never happen again…
but honestly?
You give him a month.
———-
Thank you to @rat-with-a-cup-of-soup for the idea💛
Summary: you needed a roommate and Gary Barkovitch swooped in to save the day, with cookies and scary movies!
Warnings: literally only one swear word lol, use of Y/N, fluf?
A/N: Hello my lovelies, I decided to lock in and write more Gary for you enjoy 💛
Word count: 737
———————————————————————
Your home was your sanctuary.
It always had been.
It was safe and quiet, decorated to reflect your personality. You loved the nights when you could curl up on the couch, listening to your favorite music while reading a book. It was perfect.
But over the past few months, there had been a disturbance in the quiet peace of your home.
A roommate.
Your space was too big. You had an extra room and didn’t know how to fill it. You had no one to come home to — all your friends were busy with their own lives, and your apartment didn’t allow pets.
You were fucking lonely.
So you put up flyers for a roommate. That’s how you found him.
Gary Barkovitch, looking for a place to stay since his memaw told him to hit the road and get a life.
Naturally, you felt bad and let him stay.
The first few weeks were weird and new for both of you. Two socially awkward people sharing a space wasn’t easy. You wanted to come home to someone, but you were both actively avoiding each other.
Until one day…
You walked into the kitchen and saw him baking cookies.
The kitchen smelled sweet and warm. You let out a soft hum and smiled. He glanced at you for a second before returning his attention to the cookies, his cheeks blooming in a faint pink.
“Oh, hey,” he began. “Sorry if you wanted to use the oven, they’re almost done.”
He was always so polite. But every time he spoke, it felt controlled and calculated. Maybe he just didn’t want to say the wrong thing.
“No, you’re okay,” you let out a small, breathy laugh. “Those cookies smell really good though. Could I maybe get one?”
You leaned on the counter beside the oven.
“Of course you can,” he said, teasing with a smile. “They were for you anyway.”
You froze.
Was he serious?
You could feel heat rush to your face.
“Really? Thanks… that’s really sweet of you.”
“Well, it’s the least I could do. And I never really formally spoke to you.”
You stared at him, puzzled.
“Gary, we live together.”
“Yeah, but we never talk.” He opened the oven and pulled the tray out. “They need to cool for five minutes.” He huffed out a quiet laugh.
You knew he was right. You barely spoke to the poor guy. You were nervous but part of you truly wondered what he was like.
While Gary was putting the cookies on the cooling rack, he accidentally dropped one. You watched him struggle to catch the small chocolate disaster, and when it hit the floor, you burst out laughing.
Big and bright.
He was mortified, but he laughed with you.
⸻
You sat on a stool at the kitchen island while Gary slid a mug and a plate of cookies toward you.
“So… why did you want a roommate anyway?” he asked. “I thought people liked being alone.” He let out a small laugh.
You shrugged with a soft smile.
“I guess I was just lonely. I missed the noise of other people in the house. And I needed someone to talk to so I wouldn’t go crazy.”
Your eyes met his.
He nodded like he understood exactly what you meant.
“I get that,” he said quietly. “After my memaw kicked me out, I stayed in a rundown motel for weeks. I’ve never been more homesick.” He smiled softly. “But I’ve also never been more grateful, Y/N. So I’ll do my best to be a great roommate.”
You tried to hide your smile, but the blush on your face gave you away.
You took a bite of a cookie.
“Holy— Gary, these are extremely good!”
His smile brightened as he scratched the back of his neck.
“I used to bake with my memaw a lot. These are her recipe,” he admitted. “I’m glad you like them.”
From there, the conversation flowed out of the kitchen and onto the couch.
“Wanna watch a movie?” you asked after the topic somehow drifted to slasher films.
“Sure,” he said. “You pick. I’ll grab popcorn and blankets.”
“That sounds perfect.”
You turned on the TV while Gary disappeared down the hall.
Warnings: swearing, mentions of (attempted) suicide 😱, bad spelling.
Summary: You and Gary dont get along but after getting to know him, maybe he isnt so bad.
A/N: not a lot of fics on Gary on here so I decided to make one, when watching the movie I didn’t get why ppl didn’t like him but after reading the book I kinda see why ngl 😬 (still love him though❤️) Enjoy!
———————————————————————————-
“Warning number, five.” one of the soldiers called.
You looked back to see Barkovitch standing still, like a deer caught in headlights. What the hell was he doing?
——————-
You and Barkovitch had been at each other’s throats since the walk started. You weren’t supposed to be here because you were a girl. But what made you different from the other girls was that you were the Major’s daughter. If you wanted to, you could have any of those boys killed just by pointing a finger. That was why most of them avoided your gaze.
But Barkovitch had guts.
Just minutes ago, the two of you had been arguing. He called you weak, told you to “go back to the kitchen where you belong,” and called you a whore too many times.
That hit a nerve.
So you chose to hit one back.
“Notice how everyone is either walking with a friend or choosing to walk alone except you? You’re alone because no one here can stand you. Maybe instead of being a dick, you could shut up and give everyone a break.”
——————-
“Second warning, number five.”
A guard lifted his rifle, aiming it at Gary.
Without thinking, you ran over and grabbed him, pulling him back into a walking pace. He followed your steps almost robotically.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you scolded.
But when you finally looked into his eyes, you saw tears forming.
“You were right…” he muttered, his voice breaking. “I never really had a crowd growing up. I…” He hesitated. “I always get off on the wrong foot with people. I’m a good guy when you get to know me. I just don’t know how to start a friendship without offending someone.”
He took a shaky breath, refusing to look at you.
Yes, you hated this man’s guts. But part of you felt bad. He had almost just killed himself because of what you said.
You placed a hand on his back. He flinched, but he let it stay as you gently rubbed slow circles.
“Gary, I don’t hate you,” you said softly. “But I don’t like you either. Still… I don’t want you dead.”
He wiped away a tear that escaped, then slapped himself lightly across the face, mumbling something under his breath.
“You mentioned your Memaw earlier,” you said, trying to distract him. “Is she waiting for you at the finish line?”
He let out a breathy laugh and smiled faintly.
“Yeah… she didn’t want me to join the walk. I wish I’d listened to her. But I’m doing this for her. When I win, I’m gonna take care of her.”
The more he talked about his Memaw, the more he smiled. And the more you learned about her, the more you started to like her too.
As the two of you walked down the empty dirt road, the conversation shifted from parents, to favorite movies, to stars being tiny suns, to embarrassing moments.
He made you laugh.
You made him smile.
And for the first time in a long while, you both found safety and peace in each other’s company.
Summary: Reader is having a bad week and goes out drinking with their favorite assassin that helps comfort them.
Warnings: some swear words. Gn reader. Drinking. No use of y/n
A/N: I heard she was like asexual or something so there's no romance in this! I hope you like it tho🧡 (let me know if I missed anything for the warnings)
Word count: 831
—————————————————————-
It was one of those weeks. You know the kind that makes you want to rip your hair out and scream. The type of week that has you awake at night replaying all your mistakes.
You messed up a mission report, made a wrong choice of words during a debrief, then snapped at Walker during training, and if that wasn't bad enough you accidentally broke one of Tony’s old prototype drones down in storage.
Just great.
——
By Friday everyone’s patience was no longer present, especially yours.
You were silent at dinner. Not the usual kinda quiet — the “I will hit anyone that asks if I'm okay” kinda quiet.
Yelena noticed.
Of course she had.
“Why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?” she joked but you can sense the concern in her tone.
You barely looked up at her. “Long week.” you say flatly poking at the food on your plate.
“Thats what old people say before they go home and watch sad television,” she expressed frowning. “Come on. Tonight we drink.”
“Yelena I don't-”
“Nuh uh.” She stood, grabbed your wrist and dragged you out the door ignoring the looks everyone at the dinner table gave you both.
——
The bar was small, noisey, and smelled like misery — exactly the kinda place where no one would notice two avengers sitting among them.
Yelena ordered two vodka shots and slid one to you. You wanted to protest but she just grinned at you.
Soon enough one shot became two and two quickly became four.
The burn hit your throat, warm yet bitter…but overall felt good.
“I just—” you started, your words slurringing slightly. “—I can't do anything right as of recently. Every mission ends crappy, Bucky thinks I'm reckless, Walker is a walking dick. And Val keeps barking about ‘protocol’ — what does that even mean??” You recall the week fidgeting with the empty glass in your hand.
Yelena hummed nodding as you spoke. “You care too much about what people think.”
“I do not!” you protest seeming offended, then squeezing your eyes shut you admit it. “Okay.. But only a little. But they look at me like I'm weak, and— and immature, and I'm not! You know? I'm trying my damn best here… and it's like—”
“Everything you do is overlooked?” she finished for you, her eyes softening.
You blinked speechless, she snatched the words right out of your mouth. “Yeah..exactly”.
She ordered you both another round, she didn't drink hers, just stared at you for a moment before looking down at her drink. “You know… I used to feel like that all the time…” she started then looked at you with a raw expression. “In the red room, no one cared if I tried my hardest or not. Only if I survived. I guess in a way it's not the same but.. I understand.”
Your throat tightens and you can feel a sting in your eyes.
“You're not weak, nor immature.” she stated “you're just.. Human. Unfortunately.” she smiled
And that earned a small laugh from you short but it was real. “You're pretty good at this.”
She smirked knowingly “what? Emotional support assassin? Yes, I'm the best in the field.”
——
By the time you both left the you were stumbling, your head was spinning, and your cheeks hurt from laughing.
You tripped a couple of times but Yelena was there to catch you before you hit the ground. She was steady, calm, and present. She would make small jokes about your wobbling, which you giggled at but she also muttered about cute and gorgeous. You couldn't make out much but not like you’d remember it in the morning.
When you reached the elevator, you slumped against the wall with a groan. “Thanks for this Lena. You know.. Not letting me drink alone.” you murmured.
She just shrugged and pushed the button for your floor. “Its nothing. You’re my teammate. My..uh how do you say… chaos twin.”
You giggled. “Thats the nicest thing I've heard all week.”
She payed attention to you smirking. “You are very welcome, drunk idiot.”
——
When you get to your room you collapse on your bed sighing with relief. You still had you shoes on. Yelena tugged them off and tucked them away in a corner.
“Sleep,” she commanded, tossing a blanket on you. “Tomorrow you’ll hate the sun and I'll make fun of you for it.”
“That sounds right..” you mumbled eyes already closed.
Yelena paused at the door. Her voice softening. “You did great this week even if no one noticed. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.”
You smiled faintly. “You're my favorite Lena, you know that?”
She chuckled, turning off the light switch. “I know. But don't tell the others, they get jealous.”
The door creaked shut and you were left in quiet darkness. The kind of quiet that felt safe and peaceful.
And for the first time in weeks, you drifted off with a smile.
Summary: After years away, Y/N returns to San Francisco — new job, new confidence, and a promise to herself never to look back. But an invitation from her old friend Danny Tanner brings her face-to-face with the past she thought she’d left behind, including Jesse Katsopolis — the high school heartthrob who made her life miserable.
Warning: use of Y/N and probably bad grammar!
A/N: I might make this a series just let me know if you want another part!❤️
——————————————————————
You never planned on moving back to San Francisco.
But after years of being away, a new job, new looks, and a new confidence something about the city called you back. Maybe it was unfinished business, or you were homesick… or perhaps it was Danny Tanner’s voice on the phone saying “we’re having a huge get together this weekend! You have to come. The old gang will be there too!”
You’d been good friends with Danny since high school his calm yet outstanding demeanor is what drew you in. And through him, you met Joey Gladstone, who quickly became your best friend. He could make you laugh, even if the whole world was falling apart around you.
And then… there’s Jesse Katsopolis. Danny’s too-cool-for-school- brother-in-law. The same guy who bullied you for reading, and wearing thrifted clothes instead of huge brands. Jesse was cocky, rude, and flirted with every woman on the planet. But for some reason, you were the only girl he liked to poke fun at.
So when you ditched town after graduation you swore you wouldn’t come back. And especially give Jesse another thought.
——
When you walked into Danny’s home you were greeted with hugs and laughter and everything felt the same, just like when you left (except everyone looked much older). Everything was going fine….until you laid eyes on him.
He was leaning against the kitchen counter drink in hand, hair a perfect mess, and that stupid smirk on his face. But when he looked at you his smile faltered.
His brows were raised in disbelief. “Oh mother of Mary…” he muttered to himself, “Y/N..? When did you get so..hot?” He trailed off eyeing you up and down.
You blink, partly irritated, but mostly amused. “Nice to see your manners haven’t changed.”
Joey strolled in past Jesse grinning, arms extended out to hug you. “Y/N! You’re back! Wow, look at you— California did good to ya.” He pulls you into a big bone-crushing hug and you laugh easing into his embrace.
Jesse’s jaw tightens.
——
Days later Danny invites you over for a house party. “It’ll be family, music, and food!” He explained over the phone. He left out the part about too many people trying to dance in his living room.
You make your way through the wave of people, making small talk and smiling awkwardly when people bring up past high school memories. But when you found Joey the night was less awkward. He’s great company, sweet, funny, and wouldn’t ditch you to flirt with half the women here unlike.. Jesse. Forget him tonight is just you and Joey.
——
When Jesse sees how Joey’s hand is just casually resting on your lower back he nearly drops his drink.
The way Joey guides you through the crowd with his hand on your waist, how he leans in close to whisper in your ear, and how you laugh out loud at all his stupid jokes. That sound always draws Jesse’s attention every single time. And part of him wished he were the one making you laugh.
Every time he tries to distract himself his eyes always wander back to you. How you dance, how Joey keeps making you smile, and how you look at Joey like how you used to look at him before he ruined everything years back.
God, it hurt him.
——
The night air is warm with a slight breeze. You can hear the laughter and music spill out the door as you take in that San Francisco atmosphere, and you feel at peace… until you hear that familiar voice breaking the silence.
“I didn't think you were the kinda gal to run off in the middle of a party.”
You turn and lock eyes with Jesse, standing there under the porch light with his hands buried deep in his pockets, his expression unreadable.
“I didn't take you for the kinda guy who would follow me… considering.”
Your voice trailed off and you shifted uncomfortably
He smiled, the kind of smile that doesn't reach your eyes. “I guess we both have surprises” he chuckled
You nod looking away “yeah. Like you bothering to talk to me at all tonight.”
His jaw clenched for a brief moment. “What's that supposed to mean?” For a second he looked genuinely confused.
Trying to seem casual you just shrugged looking at your feet before your eyes met his again. “C’mon Jess. You made it very clear you hated me.”
He didn't say anything, trying to figure out what to say.
“You called me names, took my things, and even when I tried being nice you kept giving me that same treatment.”
He closed his eyes nodding with understanding. Then he took a step closer to you. Looking at you with those piercing dark eyes.
“You still think I hate you?”
You give him a sideways glance. “You never gave me a reason to think otherwise.”
Suddenly his gaze softens and something behind those eyes felt raw. “People can change.”
“Do they?” you questioned crossing your arms. “Because I still see the same smirk and leather jacket that made me despise school.”
The realization finally hit him. And his jaw tightens, he was a real dick to you. He muttered something under his breath, an apology, deserving better? You couldn't make out what he said but you don't respond.
The silence between you stretches out for a beat too long before he finally speaks. “For what it's worth..I don't think I ever hated you”
“Really? Then what was all that about then? Making someone cry is just your way of saying hi?” you scoffed
He hesitates, he looks like there's something he needed to say but he was holding himself back. “I guess I..just didn't know how to act around you. And I'm sorry.”
You could tell he was being honest but thinking about all you went through saying sorry wasn't enough.
You let out a sigh. “Jesse, don't tell me you’re sorry.. Show me. Show me that you’ve changed, prove that you are a better person now. And then maybe we can talk.” You give him a small smile and a nod before starting for the door.
“Y/N—” his voice called after you softly. You stop hand on the knob and you look back at him.
His expression was soft and real, he looked as if he wanted to say a million things but wasn't sure where to start. But you didn't want to trust him. Not yet.
“Good night Jesse,” you say quietly, and head back inside with Joey.
Jesse stays on the porch for a long while after cursing himself under his breath.
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