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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

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secrets

request from anon: Hi!I was wondering if I could possibly request something.Surprise me with either twin,I don’t mind!Maybe a story where she’s really close friends with them both,one a little more so,however they’re both oblivious to the others’ feelings.Could be set in the Burrow n Molly thinks they’re dating so she’s making comments and happens to say like “it’s okay if you want to kiss around us” etc and they’re both like what??N then confess feelings maybe!Thank you so much, I love your blog and writing!!!

word count: 2.3k

pairing: fred x reader

A/N: guys my writer’s block sucks right now so i’m so terribly sorry if this is choppy and awful—i rewrote it six times i kid you not, wtf is up with me lately??

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @perksofbeingawf @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans | message me if you’d like to be added loves

“Been ages since we’ve seen you,” George said as he pulled you into a tight embrace outside of the Burrow. The summer holiday was boring enough without your friends. But blimey, how many more people could Molly Weasley fit into her home? “Missed you!”

“Missed you too, George,” you beamed, even though it hadn’t really been that long—only a few weeks since the last school term ended, but it seemed like years. You were certainly thrilled to be back at one of your favorite places in the world. “Hey, Fred.”

Fred was leaning against the side of his house, watching you with a smirk on his face and his arms crossed. His eyes were sparkling underneath the moonlight. You’d arrived later than you thought you would. “Who invited you here?”

“Oi, shove off,” you said, walking up to him and pushing on his chest. You held out your arms for an embrace and smiled teasingly at him, “Come give your favorite girl a hug.”

Favorite girl. To hide any feelings that may have been showing in his facial expression, he wrapped his arms around you. He hugged you tightly—so much so in fact that you were lifted off of the ground and he then proceeded to spin you in a circle. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Ginny giggling in the kitchen. Fred’s heart was pounding in his chest as he breathed in the scent of your flowery shampoo—something he didn’t realize he missed so much until this exact moment. When he placed you down, he took a deep breath and did his best to push down any nervousness rising in his chest—and so did you. Because, as it turns out, you had a huge secret you were trying to hide.

You were mad for him.

“We’ve missed you,” he said casually. “‘m really happy you’re here.”

You gulped. God, you’d missed him too. You grinned at him, “Me, too.”

Mrs. Weasley pulled you into an embrace and said, “So happy to have you, dear—hungry? I can whip something up for you,”

Gratefully, you thanked her and made your way into the Burrow, hugging Ginny excitedly and racing up to her room to change into more comfortable pajamas, something that everyone else was already in.

After a bit of dinner and a very large cup of tea, Ron suggested a few games of exploding snap before heading to bed—him versus George, you versus Fred, Ginny versus Harry. Hermione sat next to you all in the armchair, scribbling quickly in a notebook clutched tightly in her hands.

“D’you think a lot of people are going to come out for Quidditch tryouts this year?” Ron asked casually, although it was easy to tell he was already looking forward to it.

You felt sad at the thought. It was your seventh and final year at Hogwarts, your last chance to play for the team you’ve been on since your second year. “Dunno, mate,” Harry replied truthfully.

Fred and George were certain you three, and Harry as well, would make the team again this year.

“How do you know, exactly?” Ginny asked her older brother mockingly.

Fred just laughed and replied, “‘Cause we’re brilliant, that’s why.”

You actually snorted due to laughter. “Way to be modest, Fred,” you replied teasingly as he glanced admiringly at you across the table, shuffling the cards in his hands yet again.

“We are!” He tried to justify his last statement. It didn’t work—Ginny scoffed at him. Softer, he said, “Well—you are,”

You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, because his smirk spoke nothing but sarcasm—but when his eyes finally met yours, all you saw was softness.

“Thanks,” you replied brightly as he grinned at you. Your heart began to thump a bit harder in your chest—could he hear it? Could George? You caught Ginny’s eye and she grinned cheekily at you, turned back toward Harry, and went rosy-cheeked.

Fred bit down on his bottom lip and opened his mouth to speak, when a card exploded and made you both jump. “Oi, take it easy on me, would you? You’ve already won every bloody round!”

You began shuffling the cards as George stifled a laugh at his brother. “It’s in the cards, Freddie.” When you glanced back up at him to see him smiling sweetly at you, it seemed as though he didn’t really mind that you’d been winning.

When everyone became rather tired and shuffled off to bed for the evening, you stood outside Ginny’s room on the first floor, joking back and forth with Fred and George who were on the other end of the hallway near the steps before heading up to their own room.

“Got big plans this year.” Fred told you brightly.

“More inventions, then?”

“Loads,” George replied, placing his hands in his pockets, “care to test them out with us?”

You eyed the two of them suspiciously, as they laughed and glanced at one another before turning back towards you. “Only if you know they’re safe—‘m not risking burning my eyebrows off, or increasing the size of my tongue, only to have it stuck that way.”

“Deal,” they said together. Then George continued, “I’m knackered—see you both in the morning.”

As his twin shuffled up the staircase, Fred turned back towards you, his heart rate beginning to increase yet again. You began picking at your nails. He lowered his voice a bit, “We’ve got bigger plans than just inventions, actually.” He’d been wanting to spill his guts to you for ages. Maybe this time, he’d be able too.

He had you now. You raised your eyebrows at him and asked, “Really? Like what?”

“Not here,” he replied quietly, looking around to make sure nobody could hear him, “it’s kind of a secret—a big one, actually.. reckon we’ll have to sneak somewhere alone so I can tell you—”

Just then, Mrs. Weasley appeared next to you both carrying a load of laundry, making both of you jump, and smiled sweetly at her son. She’d clearly heard bits and pieces of the conversation, because she pointed at him and said sternly, “Freddie—there’ll be no sneaking anywhere,”

He went rosy and rolled his eyes when he looked at you. “Oi, mum—”

“Besides, you don’t have to pretend around us lot,” Mrs. Weasley began, placing a hand to her son’s cheek, “it’s alright if you want to cuddle or hold hands or kiss in front of us—just no sneaking off.”

Confused beyond belief, both yours and Fred’s eyes widened in horror and you both began to sputter nervously at Mrs. Weasley. You felt as though your heart had leapt into your throat. Fred’s mind was racing, nervous that his feelings were now obvious to his entire family—and to you. Because the truth was, that Fred Weasley absolutely adored you.. and you hadn’t the foggiest idea of it.

“Wait, what?”

Molly then swatted Fred playfully with a pair of socks. “And why didn’t you tell us that you and Y/N are dating, Freddie? I had to hear it from my youngest—”

You and Fred both peered into Ginny’s room, shooting her a look, when she and Hermione both began to giggle quietly and Ginny turned away and pretended to be occupied with her Quidditch gear and trunk.

“Mrs. Weasley, Fred and I aren’t dating—”

“We just get on really well, mum, I dunno where Ginny got this idea from,”

Mrs. Weasley went as red as a tomato and began blinking quickly. It was probably the quickest you’d ever heard her speak. Everyone seemed to be flabbergasted now. “Oh, dear, I’m so very sorry—I thought—we thought—you two’ve always just been so friendly, and—Ginevra!” Molly ran into Ginny’s room and you heard a dull thump, and emerged looking rather embarrassed indeed. “I—well—I do deeply apologize,”

You laughed and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s no worry, Mrs. Weasley. Have a good night.”

She kissed your cheek, picked up her laundry basket, and headed up the stairs, leaving a mortified Fred Weasley and you alone, awkward and nervous.

“Well, erm—best be getting some sleep, shouldn’t we?”

“Yeah, we should,” Fred replied, clearing his throat and laughing. He tried, again, to sound casual, but instead just sounded very, very flustered. “Ginny’s out of her mind—see you in the morning, Y/N.”

“G’night, Fred,”

He turned on his heel and headed up the stairs to his bedroom, wanting nothing more than to turn around and wrap himself around you, sneaking off into the dead of night to tell you how he felt, how he’s always felt, for as long as he could remember.

Little did he know that you were getting under the covers in Ginny’s room, wanting to do the exact same thing.

Morning came a little too quickly—the sun was shining brightly through the open crack in Ginny’s windows. Breakfast was exceptionally uncomfortable, as Ron and Hermione continued to argue about upcoming lessons, Ginny did her absolute best to try and not glance longingly at Harry every few minutes, and you and Fred pretended that everything that had happened the night before, didn’t. George sat back in his chair, watching all of this unfold, grinning giddily to himself.

You were out in the garden with Ginny, testing out moves for the upcoming Quidditch tryouts on her broom, not dare speaking of last night, when Mrs. Weasley came sauntering out of the kitchen.

“Ginevra, dear, I need you to help with lunch,” she said brightly.

Annoyed, Ginny replied, “But I’m talking with Y/N!”

Mrs. Weasley folded her arms across her chest, and Ginny rolled her eyes and begrudgingly made her way into the kitchen, feeling poorly. To you, Mrs. Weasley said, “Dear.. I want to apologize again for last evening.”

Oh no, you thought. Why did she keep bringing this up? It was making it more difficult for you to suppress. “Really, Mrs. Weasley, it’s okay—”

“Not sure what got into Ginny, telling me you two were together,” Mrs. Weasley shook her head in annoyance. Clearly she was not quite finished discussing it with you yet. You figured you’d just let it happen, at this point. “Silly girl. Supposed she thought she’d have a laugh. I’m just so very embarrassed.. but it did always seem as though you two were closer than the others?”

“We just get on very well, is all,”

“Hmm,” Mrs. Weasley replied, smiling cheekily at you now. Her too? “Well, in any case, I do hope I haven’t embarrassed you—” when you shook your head no, she continued, “lunch should be ready soon.”

When she walked back into the kitchen, you heard a laugh from the second floor window. You peered upwards, the sun in your eyes, in through the window to see Fred and George setting off some type of miniature fireworks and yelling in delight—something Mrs. Weasley would, no doubt, put to rest as soon as she found out.

You felt a softness overtake you when you watched him smile.

Later in the day, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Harry, and Hermione headed into the village. The Burrow was empty except for you, Fred, George, and Ginny.

While Ginny was busy practicing her Quidditch skills with George out in the yard, you and Fred were busy on the couch, involved in yet another game of exploding snap.

“There’s no bloody way in hell I’m taking Potions this year.”

“Pleeease?” you begged, pulling on his shirt. “I need to take it and I really don’t fancy being alone in the Dungeons with Snape and all the Slytherins.”

Fred laughed, “There’s not enough gold in the world, woman.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks a lot,”

“What would I get in return?”

“Two extra hours a day with me?”

Fred thought about this for a moment, and softened. A smile tugged at the edges of his lips while he considered this—more time with you, what more could he want? “You may have talked me into it—”

“—‘m sorry about last night.”

You seemed to have caught him off guard, because his breathing became a bit heavier and his cheeks went rosy. “Y’don’t need to be sorry, it was just a joke, wasn’t it?”

You were just going to say it. “Was it?” you asked softly, putting down the cards in your hands.

Fred swallowed over a lump in his throat. He was pretty sure his heart was pounding out of his chest, now. Did he dare tell you how he felt? “No, it wasn’t.”

With a surge of confidence, you pushed aside the pillow on the couch, threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. You could feel his surprise at first, but then he sort of melted into it—your lips molded together and he swung his hands around your waist, squeezing tightly. As far as first kisses go, it wasn’t exactly what you expected—it was kind of clumsy and was interrupted when the both of you began to laugh in the middle of it.

You slapped him playfully across the chest. “Why are you laughing, you prat?”

He took your hands in his and squeezed them, “‘Cause, I just—why’d we wait so bloody long to do that?” He felt like he had re-entered his body with that kiss, something he’d been waiting years to do.

“Too busy teasing you,” you joked.

“Ha ha,” he replied mockingly.

You shook your head and said suddenly, “Can’t believe they were right.”

Fred placed a hand behind your neck. “‘m glad they were.”

You did your best to hold back a large smile as he pulled you into him again for another kiss—this time, a lot slower and not as clumsy. In fact, you pulled him to his feet, forgetting all about the game of exploding snap, and tugged him towards the stairs to head up to his room. You glanced at the clock—you still had about an hour or so before the other lot said they’d be back. “Still want to sneak off with me—even if we get caught?”

Fred smiled and said, “Reckon it’ll be worth it.”

“Your mum’s going to murder us.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, thank you for reading :’)

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #ginny weasley #ron weasley #harry potter #hermione granger #molly weasley

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jeranasblog · 4 years

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Not good enough for you

Summary: When a stranger accuses Tony of taking advantage of Peter, the Omega wants to cheer him up.

Rating: E

Notes: This story is my 11th @starkercestevent contribution and it might be better to read the other parts first. Kink for the 11th story: Cock Worship (didn’t stick to the kink that much though xD). Click here for the Bingo Masterlist.

Warnings: Adoptive Father/Adoptive Son, don’t like it, don’t read it

Read on Ao3

It happened on the only day Peter came home before Tony. Peter’s classes had ended early since one of his professors gave a lecture on his research topic in another country, and his friends had accompanied him on his way home. Although Tony finished a lot of work at home these days, he was still obligated to show up in the office every now and then, so Peter was alone when he opened the door and he was alone when he found the piece of paper.

He didn’t see it at first. Like every day, he hung up his jacket and made himself a cup of coffee before he went back into the living room, crossing the hallway, and therefore the front door as well. On the floor was a small piece of paper someone has probably slipped under the door. It was a folded page of a notebook that was ripped out, with two handwritten words in the middle.

Two days.

Peter immediately knew who send the paper and froze in fear. How had Pierce passed the security man in front of their secluded building? Tony had given them instructions not to let a single unfamiliar face pass the door. He clenched his hands to fists, accidentally crumpling the piece of paper he was holding in his hand. He checked the lock again, making sure the door wouldn’t open, and it stayed shut. When Pierce had managed to enter the building, he could easily enter the apartment as well.

Shivering, Peter sat down on the couch, his coffee already forgotten and cold. He waited for his Daddy, waited for someone who could tell him what to do, and when he finally heard a key in the lock, tension fell from his shoulders. Peter didn’t even have to say a word before Tony knew something was wrong and the Alpha sat next to him, pulling him into an embrace.

“What happened?”

Peter didn’t answer and showed him the piece of paper that was still clutched in his fist. Tony took and unfolded it until he could read the words again. His jaw twitched, but he stayed calm otherwise, hugging Peter even closer.

“I won’t let you go to your classes anymore, baby,” his words were certain, leaving no room for discussion. “You’ll stay with me. You’ll go to work with me. I’ll keep you safe.”

Peter didn’t even want to argue, he was totally fine staying with his Alpha 24/7. “Yes, Daddy.”

“I will speak with a few of my colleagues, tomorrow. We’re going to find something, anything that threatens Pierce enough to let you go. I protect you, baby, I promise. Please, just listen to me, okay?”

Peter nodded and pressed a kiss against his Daddy’s lips. He wanted to be protected, wanted to be safe. His Daddy would find a way to get rid of Pierce and in the meantime, Peter only had to stay with him. Still, in the back of his mind, he could hear Pierce’s voice. ‘Only two days left. Come to me or I will find you.’ Peter closed his eyes and inhaled his Daddy’s calming scent. No need to panic, he had to trust his Daddy.

Since Tony didn’t let Peter out of his eyes anymore, they did everything together. They went to work together, they went grocery shopping together, and Peter even accompanied him when Tony picked up his suit from the laundry service. His servants had forgotten to pick it up in time for the business meeting with the German Strategic Sales Manager of a supplier company, and Tony had decided to do things himself. Unfortunately, all parking spots close to the laundry service where taken, so they had to walk a while and Tony carried the suit over his arm.

Shortly before they got back to the car, a woman, who had watched them for quite some time, crossed their way and snapped at Tony. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Corrupting your own kid and showing him off for anyone to see after?”

Tony was taken aback and could only stare at her, unable to respond. Before she could accuse him further, Peter decided to step in. “Excuse me, Mam,” his voice was soft and deescalating. “I don’t think it’s your place to judge.”

Her expression changed and anger turned into pity. “Oh, poor little Omega. I’ve read everything about your ‘relationship’ online.” Her voice changed when she said ‘relationship’. “It’s not your fault that this- this child molester uses you. You don’t have to stay with him just because he pays for you. You could always lookout for help. There are tons of people willing to support you. Omegas don’t have to depend on Alphas anymore.”

Tony growled, but still didn’t say anything, leaving Peter to deal with the situation. He chose his next words wisely, didn’t want to make a fuss in public. “It’s considerate of you that you wanna help me, and it’s right that Omegas doesn’t depend on Alphas anymore, but I want to be with Tony. It’s my free decision. We aren’t even actually related, you know?”

But as nice as Peter had tried to be, the woman didn’t want to listen. “He’s forcing you to say this, isn’t he? Poor baby, I can help you right now. You don’t have to stay with him.”

“Don’t call him ‘baby’,” the Alpha was snapping, but he still didn’t answer to the accusations.

Immediately, the woman’s expression turned angry again. “You stay quiet, you bastard. You’re sick, he’s twenty years younger than you. You raised him. How dare you touch him?”

Slowly, Peter could feel how anger bubbled up inside him. Tony was still quiet, and the silence worried Peter. Usually, his Daddy was fierce, defending Peter whenever it was necessary, but now he was only standing there, the words of the woman washing over him. Seeing that the Alpha wasn’t even reacting, made Peter only angrier.

“No, you listen to me now,” he pointed his finger at the woman, his voice raised and ice-cold. He had never been so angry before in his entire life and he could see in her face that she was shocked by his temper. “It’s my life and my decision. I’m sick of people trying to help me because they think they know me better than I know myself. I. Love. Tony. And as long as our relationship is legal, none of you pretentious little hypocrites have any right to intervene. Just get your sorry ass away from here and. Leave. Us. Alone.”

He had successfully dumfounded her and she was gaping at him like a fish before she scoffed and walked away. Peter sighed. She finally left. But one gaze at Tony confirmed that the damage was already done. “I love you, Daddy. Nothing is wrong about this. You know that, don’t you?”

Tony smiled, but it wasn’t carefree as usual but forced. “Sure, baby.”

Peter decided to leave it be until they were at home. He didn’t want everyone on the street to know about Tony’s thoughts and feelings, and he definitely didn’t want to distract the Alpha while he was driving, so he held back until the door of the apartment finally closed behind them. Tony had tried to be normal during the ride, joking and talking like he always did, but the car was clouded by his scent, revealing how sad he truly was.

Once they were alone, Peter couldn’t hold back anymore. He pushed his Daddy onto the couch and the Alpha didn’t expect his dominance, so he didn’t stop him. Peter climbed in his lap and wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck, pressing himself to his Daddy’s chest.

“I love you. So much,” Peter whispered into his ear. “Tell me you don’t believe any of the shit this old bag uttered.”

“I don’t believe any of the shit this old bag uttered.” Tony tried to joke, but his voice was too tight to sound funny. Peter knew immediately that he just wanted to distract, so he pulled back enough to give him a berated gaze.

The Alpha sighed and lowered his gaze, but his mask fell off and his real feelings came to the surface. He looked hurt. Hurt and… disgusted? “Baby, I know she wasn’t wrong,” Tony said slowly. “I know I didn’t force you, I know you want this and I know you love me. But don’t you see the power imbalance between us? Don’t you see that I’m twice your age? Maybe they have a point. Maybe I am a child molester that took advantage of your feelings.”

Peter had to swallow. Anger was bubbling up inside of him, but it was soon replaced by horror. He hadn’t noticed that his Daddy felt like this, hadn’t noticed that he doubted himself. All the time, Tony always seemed to be the strong Alpha, self-confident and resolute, but just like everyone else, he was a human being too. He had fears and regrets, and apparently one of them was forcing Peter.

Peter picked his next words carefully. “Daddy, I’ve always loved you. When I was younger, I loved you as a mentor, as a hero who saved me and when I grew up the feelings were getting deeper. I’ve desired you since the moment I presented, since I knew our bodies are compatible, but we didn’t act out on it for years. I told you I want this, more than once, and now I beg you to trust the decision I made. If I were anyone else, an Omega you didn’t raise, would you still feel this way? Would you still think you’ve taken advantage of me?”

Tony stared at him in silence before he answered truthfully. “Probably not.”

Peter sighed in relief. That was exactly what he wanted to hear. “There are a million relationships out there with age-gaps and thousands with power imbalances. How many rich old Alphas have young beautiful Omegas on their side? How often do you hear about Alpha’s rescuing poor Omega’s to mate them? It’s even called a romance. No one calls those pairings out because it’s common the Alpha is providing for the Omega, it’s common that Alphas are richer and more experienced. We are no different, Daddy. We aren’t even related by blood, no one should care.”

“But they do. They don’t judge only me, they judge you as well. I don’t want you to suffer because of me,” Tony’s voice was small and vulnerable, something Peter had never heard before and he forced himself to stay calm, forced his scent to remain soothing. Getting angry with the world wouldn’t make anything better now.

“When Piece threatened me, he didn’t say I would regret rejecting his offer. He said we would regret it,” Tony flinched from the words, but Peter continued anyway. “I know he will come for both of us when the time is up. How would you feel if I would break up with you to protect you? To make the thing between you, me, and Pierce a thing between only me and Pierce?”

He could see the fury in his Daddy’s eyes, could see the hate for Pierce but also the fear Peter might leave him, that Peter might confront the Senator on his own. “Exactly, Tony. I trust you that we are in this together. I know that you can make your own decisions and that you want to protect me. There’s nothing I’d rather do than keep you out of this, but we are a team. We’re doing this together. So please let us do the rest together as well. Don’t pull back to protect me from pretentious snobs.”

His Daddy smiled, the first real smile of the day, and then he nodded carefully before he pressed a kiss on Peter’s forehead. “I love you, baby, you know? It makes me so proud that you choose to belong to me.”

“It makes me proud that I belong to you as well, Daddy. Most perfect Alpha in the whole world.”

Tony chuckled and pulled him ever closer until there was no space left between them. It felt nice being held like this, it always did, but today, Peter wanted to give something to his Daddy. He was always so strong for him, managing the situation with Pierce and protecting him from possible enemies. Peter just wanted to give something back.

“Daddy, can you just relax for me today? I wanna show you how much you mean to me; how much I love you.”

The Alpha looked at him curiously but didn’t protest, handing over control he usually loved to have for himself. Peter savored his trust. He wouldn’t disappoint his Daddy, wouldn’t break his trust. He loved surrendering to the Alpha, loved to be dominated, but today he wanted to prove Tony that nothing mattered more than them being happy together.

Peter slid from his Daddy’s lap and kneeled in front of the couch. Although he was taking control, his position was so submissive, the Alpha would be comfortable enough to let himself go. “Stop thinking, Daddy,” Peter said while he opened the Alpha’s pants and took them off. “I’m gonna show you how perfect I wanna be for you. That you are everything that matters to me.”

“I love you, baby.” Tony was watching him with pride while he was shuffling closer. Immediately, the familiar scent of his Daddy was clouding his mind and he could feel himself getting slick. Already. He really was easy for the Alpha.

This time, Peter decided to take it slow. He pressed soft kisses on his Daddy’s thighs, every one of them a sign of his love, of his devotion, and he did his best not to touch the Alpha’s cock. He wanted the sensations to build up, wanted them to dominate hid Daddy’s mind until he was as desperate for the Omega as Peter was always for him.

“You’re so beautiful,” Peter whispered when his kisses were slowly wandering higher. “You’re so strong, so handsome. Your cock is gorgeous.” His sounds were muffled against his Daddy’s thighs, but the pleased noises of the Alpha showed Peter that Tony understood every word. “It’s so thick, stretching me so good. One day, I want you to breed me, fill me up with your pups. Every single time you open me up, I’m losing my mind. I can’t believe you think I wouldn’t want this, wouldn’t want you to fuck me with your big knot.”

“Baby,” Tony growled impatiently, his fingers itching to take over. Peter could feel that his Daddy wanted to grab his hair, to force him down until he was choking on his cock, but he clenched his hands to fists, fighting the urge to take control.

Peter rewarded him with the first kiss pressed against his Daddy’s tip. It was light and chaste, his lips didn’t even stretch around the Alpha’s length, but Tony was riled up. His hips surged forward, pressing his cock against Peter’s face and the Omega couldn’t suppress the loud moan that was falling from his lips. God, there was nothing better than his Daddy losing control, nothing better than the thick cock pressed against his face. Well, maybe except for the thick cock inside of him.

He had wanted to drag it out, had really wanted to tease his Daddy, but his patience was running thin. Without second thoughts, Peter opened his mouth and swallowed the length in one go, humming when he felt the tip pressed against the back of his throat. They were moaning at the same time, Tony because Peter was swallowing him like he had never tasted something better in his entire life, and Peter because the taste of his Daddy made him feel like he was high on endorphins.

Peter was savoring every second, moving his head up and down. His mind went quiet as his mouth was stuffed full; his Daddy’s cock too big for him to swallow it whole. Pleasing his Alpha was the only thing he could concentrate on at the moment, the only thing that truly mattered. He was drooling all over the Alpha’s cock, it was running down his shaft and making his Daddy messy, but they didn’t care. Peter could die like this, happily sucking his Daddy’s cock.

“Baby, you are stunning, taking my cock like you was made for this,” Tony’s voice was hoarse and arousing. “You look perfect like this. One day, I stuff you with a toy while you’re sucking my cock, fill both of your holes at once. Would you like that, sweetheart? Your Daddy plugging you up like a desperate little slut?”

“Uh-huh,” Peter couldn’t do anything but moan, unwilling to let the Alpha’s cock go. The words were making him wet, slick dripped out of him, ruining his pants. He wanted this, wanted his Daddy to plug him up, and stuff him full all day long. Sometimes Peter wondered if their obsession was healthy. They were together for a few months and they didn’t spend a day without sex when they saw each other. Peter felt like he was addicted to him, but he didn’t care.

The moment Tony was getting close, Peter pulled back. He didn’t want the Alpha to come like this, wanted to ride his Daddy until he was feral with lust. Instead, Peter tried his best to look seductively when he stood up and took off his clothes. He was already too far gone to play coy, but his Daddy’s hungry gaze confirmed that the Alpha didn’t care. Tony’s entire body was tense, his feelings pent-up, but he fought his Alpha-biology anyway, fought the urge to bend Peter over and bury himself in the tight heat without thinking further.

Knowing that his Daddy held back for him, made Peter feel warm inside. His Daddy was perfect, not only the possessive feral Alpha who wanted to fuck Peter over every available surface but also his considerate lover who cared for him and trusted him. He planned to reward his Daddy, to show him that Peter could take care of his needs.

Peter made sure to move his hips seductively when he stripped off the last piece of clothing, his panties. He could feel his Daddy’s hungry gaze on him, could feel how slick was running down his thighs and the scent of his own arousal was filling the air. His plan had been to seduce the Alpha even further, tease him until he was snapping, but when his Daddy let out a growl, Peter couldn’t wait even a second longer. He climbed back onto Tony’s lap and pressed his lips on the Alpha’s.

Tony kissed him back brutally, his teeth pulling on Peter’s lower lip until the Omega was whining in pleasure. Every lick of Tony’s tongue was filled with pent-up arousal and Peter struggled to keep control. He wanted to let go, wanted to present and be taken, but he had to stay levelheaded. Pulling together all his willpower, Peter ended the kiss. His head was still pressed against the Alpha’s neck, but he felt a little better now, a little more in control of himself.

The Alpha growled, a sign that he didn’t agree with his Omega pulling back, but thankfully he didn’t push. Peter knew he would have lost it if his Daddy decided to take the lead. The Omega’s hand wandered behind his back, dipping lower and lower until it wandered between the cleft of his cheeks. He could already feel his slick spread everywhere and when the first finger touched his hole, Peter let out a small cry.

“Fuck, baby, hurry,” the Alpha’s voice was deep and desperate, so much closer to the edge than usual. His hands were clenched to fists and Peter could see his knuckles whitening. “I’ll lose it soon, baby. Open yourself up, don’t tease me anymore.”

Peter whimpered and obeyed like he always did, the first finger immediately replaced by two. His own digits didn’t feel as good as his Daddy’s, didn’t stretch him as perfectly, but everything was better than being empty. He was sitting on his Daddy’s lap, his entire body on display while he prepared himself for Tony’s cock. The Alpha’s eyes followed every movement, every twitch of his body and every twist of his face. It felt so good being watched as if he was one of the most beautiful Omega’s made for his Daddy’s gaze.

Two fingers became three and Peter’s desperation was taking him under. The lazy movements of his hands were replaced by desperate bounces of his hips. He was fucking himself on his fingers, whimpering his Daddy’s name while he yearned for a cock inside. When a new wave of slick dripped down his thighs, Tony snapped.

“Let me in now, Omega,” the Alpha’s said through gritted teeth. “If you want to keep control, if you want your plan to work, you should listen to me know. I can’t hold myself back when you squirm on my lap, crying for a cock like a slut.”

Peter’s eyes rolled back, and he lost the last ounce of patience. With a whine, he pulled out his fingers, grabbed his Daddy’s cock, and positioned the tip against his dripping hole. Both of them moaned when he finally bore down, impaling himself on his Daddy’s length.

“You feel so good, Daddy,” Peter slurred while he savored the delicious stretch. “Filling me so good like no one else can. Please, don’t leave me, Daddy. I need you, I need your knot. You’re it for me.”

Tony growled and his hips thrust up, unable to keep them still any longer. He made Peter bounce on his lap, like a rag doll that was being tossed around, and every time his Daddy’s cock opened him up, he could feel the tip pressed against his sweet spot. Not even a minute in and Peter was already moaning like a whore, a whore for his Daddy.

“I won’t leave you, baby,” Tony promised, his hands clutching Peter’s hips and forcing the Omega to move. “I promise. Once I’ve dealt with Pierce, I’m going to mate you and I’m going to marry you afterward. No one will be able to separate us, you belong to me. You were made for me, and I was made for you. Now bounce for me, show me that you need me. Show me that you chose me.”

Peter cried out, the words of his Daddy hitting his core. This was exactly what he wanted, what he needed to be happy. Mated to his gorgeous Alpha, loved by this gorgeous Alpha, and fucked by him every single day until they were getting old. His Daddy’s cock had never felt this hot, this big before and he immediately knew that his Daddy was close.

“Stroke me, Daddy. Make me come at the same time,” Peter wanted to order him, but his request came out as a beg, pathetically whimpering for his Daddy. He had wanted this, had wanted to take control to show his Daddy how much he meant to him, but he has reached his breaking point. The control was back in his Alpha’s hands again and he couldn’t imagine anything better.

He was sobbing when his Daddy touched his leaking cock for the first time, the entire length fitting in Tony’s hand. He felt owned, surrounded by his Alpha and the only thing he could still focus on was moving his hips. When his Daddy reached his limits, he clutched Peter’s cock tightly, thrusting his own length again and again in Peter’s hole. The Omega’s walls fluttered around him, urging him on to come inside the tight heat.

Peter could feel every inch of the knot expanding inside of him, could feel every surge of seed the Alpha pumped into his body. His sweet spot was assaulted by Tony’s knot, his cock milked by his Daddy’s tight grip. Peter sobbed when the first of his orgasm was washing over him, leaving him twisting and squirming on his Daddy’s lap.

Coming on Tony’s knot was incredible, his entire body was throbbing and arching for the Alpha’s seed. Nothing had ever felt that good and Peter knew he would always be happy, his Daddy would make him happy. He wouldn’t allow anyone to plant toxic thoughts into Tony’s head, he would reassure the Alpha over and over again that Peter would always choose him.

“I love you,” Peter whispered, his body still shaking from the orgasm. “You are perfect for me.”

Tony hummed and they stayed silent, both of them enjoying the afterglow. Peter cuddled closer against the Alpha’s chest, contently knotted by his Daddy. They stayed like this for a while, listening to each other’s heartbeats, and keeping the other one close.

“Today meant much to me, baby,” Tony confessed after a while.

Peter smiled at him and pressed a kiss on his lips. “I’ll always stay at your side, Daddy. We protect each other. Once Pierce is gone, we’ll mate. Forever.”

“Forever,” Tony answered with a smile and buried his face in the Omega’s hair.

#starker #starkercestbingo2020

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

More Than Words (Four)

This chapter turned out different than I planned, but if there’s one thing I learned, it’s to let stories do whatever they want because Free Range Plots are much more fun to read than plotted, planned and outlined ones.

Note: while this story isn’t actually D/s, I have given ‘subspace’ a MTW/ABO twist and I sort of love it. Hope everyone else does too!

Also, I love snarky Hank Pym so much omg his character in the Ant Man movies was amazing.

MTW MASTERLIST HERE

*******************

Hank Pym had an entire list of people he never wanted to see knocking at his front door.

Tony Stark topped the list, Tony Stark’s uncomfortably intimidating assistant Pepper Potts was a close second. Norman Osborn wasn’t even allowed within a hundred yards of the property-- or was it that Hank wasn’t allowed within a hundred yards of Norman Osborn? Restraining orders between old men fighting over physics were so complicated-- and even though Scott Lang was well on his way to becoming part of the family, Hank didn’t particularly want to see him at three in the morning either.

The very last person Hank was expecting to see on the other side of his door was the mutant cyborg Cable, and though he would happily die before admitting he screamed when that metallic yellow eye zeroed in on him---

“Shit!” Hank tried to slam the door right in Cable’s face, shrieked a little when metal fingers grasped around the edges and pried it back open, and then shrieked a little louder when the heavy door came right off its hinges as Cable barreled inside.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Hank swept a shock of silver hair away from his eyes and puffed out his chest, folding his arms and rocking up onto his toes and doing everything possible to appear bigger than his several inches shorter than the Alpha. “You can’t just run in here like you own the place! Who the hell do you think you are!?”

“You know who I am.” Cable didn’t bother hiding his smirk over Hank’s floor length striped robe and color coordinated slippers. “Nice jammies.”

“I’m insisting I don’t know who you are, so when I’m taken to court for whatever mayhem you’re about to unleash on Manhattan, I can truthfully say I had no prior notice of your bullshit.” the Beta retorted. “Get out. Your kind isn’t welcome here.”

“My kind.” Cable dumped his utility bag out onto the nearest surface and rifled through the assorted items. “Pretty bold words coming from someone who’s future son in law has a standing appointment at the local prison.”

“Scott’s a good kid, he’s just a dumbass.” Hank defended. “And by your kind I meant you, specifically. You, Cable, are not welcome here. The last time you ended up in my neighborhood you tried to steal my tech and destroy my gardenias. You need to leave. Take that bionic arm and creepy eye and your fanny pack and get out.”

“It’s a utility bag.” Cable held a computer chip up towards the genius. “And I’m not going to apologize for your gardenias. They weren’t prize winning no matter what the old lady across the street told you. Are you going to help me or what?”

“It’s absolutely a fanny pack and no, I won’t be helping you.” the Beta inched forward a step, eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “What is that? Why is it glowing gold?”

“I thought you weren’t going to help me.” Cable taunted, holding the chip away when Hank reached for it. “Or did you change your mind?”

“I’m not going to help you.” With a quickness that belied his nearly eighty years, Hank grabbed at a small remote and pressed the button. There was a whir and a pulse, and Cable’s left arm dropped limp and useless, the chip falling from his fingers.

“Gotcha.” Hank darted forward and grabbed it, ducking back out of the way as the robotic pieces of Cable’s body came back on line. “You like that? Pocket sized EMP. I know that shiny shit up your neck is more techno organic than mechanical, but an EMP will stun anything for a few seconds.”

“Congratulations.” Cable said flatly. “You stunned me for a few seconds and got your hands on the computer chip. What now?”

“Now you can leave.” Hank flipped on a lamp and studied the piece under brighter light. “But before you go, tell me what this is?”

“It is part of the computer that controls my time travel device.” the Alpha admitted, and Hank’s eyes widened in excitement. “It’s all I have left, actually. A back up to my main piece. My device was...taken… and now I need to build a new one.”

“The mighty time traveling Cable stuck in the year twenty nineteen?” Hank whistled in mock sympathy. “Got your fancy time traveling gadget stolen, huh? Who took it from you?”

“That doesn’t matter.” Irritation blanketed Cable’s scent, but Hank Pym was a Beta and gave exactly zero fucks what an Alpha scented like. “You need to help me build another one.”

“Oh-ho, I think I do not.” Hank ran a curious finger over the glowing chip. “Why does it light up like this? Is it like the glow of my Pym particles?”

“Pym particles.” Cable rolled his eyes. “You’re a few years ahead of this timeline’s science and think you can just name sub atomic particles after yourself. You know what we call them in my timeline?” Hank’s eyes narrowed and Cable finished bluntly, “Trash. Pym particles are trash because we’ve moved beyond them. Now are you going to help or not?”

“Right.” Hank turned the chip over a few times. “Remind me why I’d help you now that you’ve thoroughly insulted my life’s work?”

“Because you’re desperate to know how time travel works.” The Alpha unfolded a piece of paper and handed it to the scientist. “And because you’re so damn curious you’re gonna throw me out tonight, then fuss and fidget for a few days, and then call me and act huffy about helping. How about we skip all of that and you just help me now?”

The muscle in the Beta’s jaw jumped as Hank ground his teeth together and glowered, but finally he snatched the list from Cable and read through it, muttering under his breath the entire time.

And finally, “I have most of this on hand. A couple items will take me a week to get my hands on but some of these?” he shook his head. “Cable, I don’t know what’s just laying around on grocery store shelves in your timeline, but these sort of things are locked up tight in all the places the government swears they aren’t stockpiling weapons of mass destruction and doomsday devices. I can’t just waltz in the front door, have a cashier ring me up, and then waltz back out with this in a paper bag.”

“You tell me where to find it, I’ll get in and grab it.” Cable maintained. “You get me the rest. Then I’ll need your lab for the finer work.”

“No no no, you aren’t listening to me.” Hank stabbed his finger at the list. “Even if I called in a few favors and managed to get my hands on it, those phone calls would end with me being tossed down a dark hole and probably charged with war crimes and consorting with terrorists. No. No, I’m not doing it.”

“Hank--”

“How do you lose a time travel device anyway!” Agitated now, the Beta crumpled the list up and tossed it back at Cable. “Don’t you have a spare?”

“I have the one.” Cable said in frustration. “I have charges for it and enough pieces to make minor repairs, but it’s gone and now I have to build a rudimentary piece from scratch to get back to my timeline and retrieve a newer one to return to the past!”

“Why the past!” Hank threw up his hands. “Why does it matter? Why did you pound on my door at three in the morning to ask me something imposs--”

“It’s a kid.” Cable cut in, and Hank’s mouth shut with an audible click. “He’s just a kid, twenty something years old, scrappy little Omega is all. He ended up activating the device without meaning to and now he and the dial are gone. I need a new one so I can go and get him back.”

“So you know where he is.”

“I know exactly where he is.” Cable nodded. “I had the dial pre set to a specific year, just gotta jump back and drag him back before it’s too late.”

“...what’s too late?” Hank swallowed and took the list again, scanning through it a second time. “When will it be too late?”

“Don’t worry about that.” the Alpha waved the question off. “How soon can you have this all for me?”

“It will take a few months.” Hank felt around for a pen and started making calculations. “Most of the pieces are easy to get, assembling them into such a delicate device is completely different. The more difficult items will take several weeks to get in, I’ll have to treat the wires, build a circuit board, all that sort of thing. And the more impossible things could take months if I can get them at all.”

“You have ninety days.” Cable said flatly and Hank gaped at him.

“Were you listening to what I said? It could a month and a half just to track down some of these, and the rest I’ll have to call in favors for, sell my soul and probably sign over Hope’s first born child! I can’t do it in--”

“You have ninety days.” the mutant said again. “I have to get that kid and get him back within ninety days.”

“What happens in ninety days?” Hank held up a hand stubbornly when Cable tried to argue. “No, you need to tell me. What happens in ninety days if I can’t get all this material?”

Cable swallowed, guilt laying heavy over his shoulders. “When a human is placed into a timeline other than their own, their body stops working. Blood cells stop regenerating, wounds won’t heal, a cold could actually kill them because their immune system can’t rally. Anything other than their basic functions grinds to a halt. Sometimes mental stability is affected, other times it eats away at them visibly-- hair falling out, loss of hearing, severe eczema, all of that.”

“What?”

“This is a virus.” Cable tapped at the metal leeched into his neck. “I’m not a cyborg, I’m not a robot. I’m sick. I don’t belong in the future timeline, I was sent there as a child and was infected with this virus. Every time I use my device it takes over my body a little bit more until one day there won’t be anything of me left. But I’m mutant, so it's a slower progression. On a human, it won’t be slow at all.”

“Ninety days.” Hank stared stunned, the color draining from his face. “Red blood cells only last about a hundred and fifteen days before our body breaks them down, is that why it’s ninety days? Anything past that and his body starts to shut down entirely?”

“If he gets a bad cut, he’ll die because his body isn’t making anything new to replace what’s lost.” Cable stated. “If he gets a cold, it will turn into fatal pneumonia within a matter of days. A fever could end him by sun down, an allergic reaction could kill him within minutes. This is life or death, Hank. Are you going to help me or not?”

“Ninety days.” the Beta looked back down at the list. “I can get this in ninety days. Maybe even sooner.”

“Maybe make it sooner.” Cable grunted. “You let me know how I can help. And Hank?”

Hank looked up and Cable offered him a half smile. “Thank you.”

The mutant was out of the house and gone a moment later, leaving Hank holding the paper and the computer chip as the cold night air wound in through the broken door.

“Prick.” he muttered to no one in particular. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing it for the kid.” and then quieter, “And because I am dying to know how time travel works.”

“Ninety days. I can do this.”

***************

Peter hummed to himself as he gathered eggs, shooing the chickens away from their nests and tucking the eggs in the pocket of his hoodie. He’d never put even a split second of thought into where his breakfast came from but apparently chickens only lay one egg a day which meant his favorite brunch meal of three egg omelets was the combined effort of three different chickens and that-- that just didn’t seem right.

Looking down at the five meager eggs, Peter made a silent vow to never eat more than two at a time anymore, especially since Wade more than likely ate all five and was giving up part of his breakfast for Peter.

“You look awfully stressed out for having tussled with chickens.” Wade flashed his fangs in a teasing grin when Peter made it back inside. “Figured after three days the birds would stop giving you grief. Which one did you poke in the butt?”

“I didn’t poke anyone in the butt.” Peter huffed, and the Alpha’s smile stretched wider. “It’s just um--”

“Just what?” Wade could fit all five eggs in his big palm without even stretching, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Peter, even though he didn’t let himself linger too long on the fact that Wade had big feet too. We all know what that means. “What’s on your mind, Pete?”

“Um, it’s stupid.” Peter grabbed at his notebook and jotted down a few lines. “I just never put any thought into where my food came from or how much effort goes into making it.”

“...it takes two minutes to collect eggs, Pete.”

“No.” Peter shook his head. “No I mean. Chickens only lay one egg a day.” Wade blinked at him and Peter gestured vaguely. “My normal breakfast is the work of three chickens, a cow or goat, and someone who has to plant and harvest vegetables!”

“Yeah.” Wade cracked the eggs into a pan. “And?”

“And.” Peter emphasized. “I just go to the grocery store and buy a dozen eggs, a quart of milk and grab a tomato on my way up to the register. I never put any thought into how much effort goes into food. It’s about enough to turn someone vegan.”

“And vegan means…”

“I won’t eat any product that comes from an animal.” Peter stared down at his cup of milk. “Even though I feel like that barely works in my time where I can buy basically anything at the store, I’ll definitely starve to death here if I have to live on pine cones or something.”

“Yeah it’d be a real shame if you starved to death.” The Alpha stirred at their breakfast for a minute and then dropped a slab of meat into a frying pan. “I got five chickens because I usually eat five eggs and then I butcher them in the hard parts of winter so they don’t freeze and so I have fresh meat. I keep a goat for the milk and two horses to help haul the wagon. It’s not like I’m over hunting deer for the sport of it or keeping so many chickens I just end up attracting coyotes and mountain lions. If I don’t eat--”

“No.” Peter held up his hand to quiet Wade. “No, I’m not saying you’re wrong for needing to hunt or anything. I’m just saying that the-- wow the sheer amount of eggs and meat and milk that people in my timeline go through and now that I know a chicken only lays one egg a day it’s just… It’s sort of awful.”

“Well it’s a good thing you’re here now.” Wade turned the meat over and raised his eyebrows at Peter. “Right? Because it’s not awful.”

“It’s decidedly not awful.” Peter agreed, a faint blush climbing his cheeks when the Alpha rumbled at him softly. “And thank you for breakfast. I promise I can actually cook though, so maybe tomorrow morning you let me try?”

Tomorrow morning. The words came so easily, the assumption and acceptance that Peter would be there another day something that made both Alpha and Omega smile.

Four days had come and gone since Logan’s visit, and every day Peter woke up a little more rested, a little more peaceful.

He followed Wade along with chores and helped where he could, spent long hours exploring the surrounding forest while Wade worked on the cabin or chopped wood, and at evening they ate dinner together, talking quietly about the day and sharing increasingly warm smiles. Peter would write down all the new things he learned, Wade would patiently try to answer a litany of questions and Peter would exclaim in delight every time he figured out an answer before Wade could tell him.

Every night Wade motioned Peter towards the bed and Peter would put up a fuss about how Wade should be sleeping in the bed. The Alpha would growl a little and demand, Peter would huff and turn his nose up but inevitably, he would snuggle down into heavy blankets and Wade would watch protectively until the Omega slipped away into dreams.

It was the easiest thing in the world to move around each other, to move with each other, to laugh and talk and find conversation and for the first time in years Peter asked questions without urgency, wanted to know without feeling like he might explode if he didn’t, he was learning without painfully, desperately searching.

Wade’s scent wrapped safe around him at night, the cabin air saturated with contentment, and even though neither Peter nor Wade had re- introduced the topic of their scents matching or how they knew each other, there wasn’t really words for what they felt anyway.

The knowing was more than words, it was more than what Peter had read about in romance novels, more than what science could explain away, the sort of comfort and security that settled soul deep despite knowing Cable could return any minute and take him away.

They weren’t ready to think about that though, not about Cable and not about saying goodbye when they were still just barely skating along the surface of the bond sparking between their souls.

No, Peter was more than willing to put Cable out of his mind for right now and focus on learning everything he could about Wade’s world… and perhaps focusing on pulling as many fanged smiles from the Alpha as he could.

And it was this focus that led directly to Peter deciding he wanted to help Wade out more by taking on another chore, which in turn led directly to the Omega staring down a goat and immediately wondering if he’d made a mistake.

Offering to clean the cabin would have been a better idea.

“Alright Goat.” Peter eyed the beast warily, bucket clutched in one hand, a chunk of dandelions held in the other. “You got milk, I need the milk, are you gonna be cool about this or what?”

The goat bleated and stamped it’s little hoof.

“What was that?” Peter asked suspiciously. “Was that a yes? Are you saying yes? Gonna give it up for some dandelions?”

Wade was busy working tangles from Bea’s mane so he didn’t witness the head butting but he definitely heard the Omega squawk in outrage, heard the goat bellow in triumph, and when Peter came out of the barn spitting both hay and curses, Wade turned back to the roan so his laughter wasn’t quite so obvious.

“I can hear you.” Peter snapped and Wade tried even harder to muffle it. “That Billy goat knocked me right over! Does it do that to you?”

“First of all,” Wade smoothed his fingers through Bea’s mane and patted the mare on the neck to shoo her on. “That’s a nanny goat, not a billy goat. Billy goats are boys, nanny goats give milk. What did you think you were tugging on down there to get white stuff to shoot out?”

Peter's jaw dropped, his perfect lips opening in an shocked ‘oh’ at Wade’s phrasing. “I— um— I mean I wasn’t—“ Wade waited until he finished lamely. “I wasn’t tugging. Not yet anyway. I got head butted before I could try.”

“Fair enough.” Wade’s scent colored amused and the Omega turned bright red. “C’mon, get your bucket and I’ll show you. Come on.”

Peter grumbled under his breath as he followed Wade back into the barn, but he still dragged the stool over and paid close attention as Wade led the goat back over and tethered her to a short post, putting a pile of food in front of the animal to keep her distracted.

“See this? Milking post. Keeps her from running.” Wade smoothed his hands down the goat’s back and patted her rump. “Make sure she knows where you are, talk to her a little. She might be an animal but that doesn’t mean she likes being yanked on any more than a person would, you know? Easy and steady, firm but not painful. Look.”

Peter watched in fascination as milk hit the bucket in steady streams, Wade making the motions with no visible effort at all. “It doesn’t hurt her?”

“It’s more of a relief.” Wade trilled at the goat when she balked away from Peter. “She had kids this past spring so she’s pretty full of milk still. When we go to town, I’ll get her bred up with one of the town billies so her production stays up. There will be a few months in the spring where we don’t have milk cos she’s nursing but otherwise she puts out all year.”

“Is she acting weird around me because I’m new?” Peter picked up the nearly trampled dandelions and offered them to the goat again. “Or am I doing something wrong?”

“You smell off.” Wade eased off the goat and got up from the stool, motioning for Peter to take his place. “Humans don’t like the scent of mutants because we scent wild. Animals like our scent just fine. S’why the wolf pups follow Logan. They recognize the wild in him.”

“You don’t smell weird to me.” Peter settled onto the stool and petted at the animal awkwardly. “I think you smell good.”

“Yeah well,” Wade cleared his throat, swallowing back a burble of happiness. “That’s because if you told me I stunk, I’d kick you out and make you fend for yourself.”

“You’re right, that’s exactly what it is.” Peter wrinkled his nose teasingly, then put cautious hands on the goat. “Is this right? It doesn’t feel right. In fact it feels a little… ick.”

“You’re basically right.” Wade crouched behind the Omega, big arms circling Peter's lean frame so he could cover Peter's hands with his own and better direct each motion. “Feel that? A little pressure and it will give, and then right here where you meet some resistance, back off. No no don’t let go.” He recaptured Peters hands. “You let go and she thinks you’re done. Always hands on.”

“How do I know when she’s empty?” Peter’s brow furrowed in concentration. “Do I keep going until she’s all the way dry or stop before then?”

“You’ll feel when she’s about done, but you do wanna get her empty.” Wade let Peter take over the milking again, but didn’t move from behind the Omega. “Leave too much and her body thinks she doesn’t need to produce and then we end up with no milk at all. And having a full udder for too long can give her an infection.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded, eyes trained on the bucket and the stream of milk. “We do this twice a day?”

“Twice a day, and once you get comfortable it shouldn’t take you more than five or six minutes.” Wade confirmed. “Think you can handle it?”

“I think it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you watched me a few times to make sure I’m not hurting her.” Peter clicked at the goat when she shifted uncertainly. “Would you mind?”

Wade would certainly not mind sitting here twice a day with Peter cradled between his thighs, the Omega’s thick hair in his nose and back fit to his chest. Peter hadn’t seemed to notice yet that Wade was practically hugging him, that all he’d have to do was turn his head and their lips would meet, or scoot back a few inches to plaster their bodies together.

He was so close and here in the barn the Omega’s honeysuckle scent mixed with sun warmed hay, lavender underscoring the earthier tones of animal and it would have been so easy for Wade to shift forward and bury his nose in Peter’s hair, to inhale deep and get scent drunk right then and there.

Tempting.

“‘Course I don't mind helping.” Wade tried for teasing but it fell flat as his entire body tightened with a surge of longing . “Last thing I need is you pissing off the goat and her giving me spoiled milk, right?”

“Ugh. Right.” Peter laughed quietly. “You’d kick me out for sure then, wouldn't you?”

“Without even hesitating.” Wade said immediately and Peter laughed again.

There really was something sort of relaxing about this particular chore. Sunlight was streaming bright through the open barn doors and settling warm over their shoulders. The goat was calm and the steady crunch of it eating was oddly comforting. Peter could hear Bea and Arthur stamping around in the yard and their soft nickers and neighs as they talked to each other, and beyond that was the sound of birds in the trees and the whistle of autumn wind through branches.

Wade was set right behind him, the Alpha solid and steady, soothing and dependable, dark licorice scent like caramel flowing thick through Peter’s veins, the cedar bringing to mind long summer days and lazy naps in the sunshine.

Not that he needed a nap, no Peter had slept better in Wade’s bed the last several nights than he had in months. The mattress was barely comfortable but somehow Peter sank right into it and passed out almost immediately. Dreams that had been almost nightmares before were now nothing more than vague impressions of calm and home and even though waking up to a cold cabin wasn’t easy, it was wonderful to sit up and stretch and watch Wade’s eyes light red and possessive for just a split second before the Alpha got himself under control again.

Never once had Peter thought to want an Alpha outside his heat, but oh he wanted Wade and the sudden shift made his fingers tremble, his heart pound.

“Easy. Let up now.” The Alpha’s deep voice was low and smooth in Peter’s ear, breaking into his thoughts and pulling him back to the moment. “She’s all done, Pete. Don’t want to stress her out.”

“Hm?” Peter blinked a few times, lethargic and lazy and not wanting to break the hazy spell that had fallen over them. “Oh. Oh sorry. Is she okay?”

The goat bleated at Peter in annoyance and side stepped away, so Wade reached with one hand to undo her tether and send her out into the yard, then murmured, “It’s alright. You didn’t hurt her.” and pressed at Peter’s side gently, before spreading his fingers out over the Omega’s stomach so Peter wouldn’t move away quite yet. “Are you okay? Seems like I lost you there for a minute.”

“Yeah, I just sort of--” Peter’s mouth felt dry, his tongue thick and head fuzzy and he closed his eyes to the pull of slumber. “--just sort of floated away. I dunno what happened.”

“Floated away…” Wade hesitated. “...in a bad way?”

“Mmmm, no.” he hummed a little and turned in Wade’s arms, tucking his nose into the Alpha’s neck and parting his lips to take a slow breath in. “No, I got tired all the sudden and I feel… spacey. Sorry.”

“Christ.” Wade slipped his hand over Peter’s stomach and around to the side, holding the Omega tight to his chest and shuddering when Peter only sighed and settled firmer into his shoulder. “No, don’t apologize. This is-- this is fine. I’ve got you. Just… just keep floatin’ Pete. I’ve got you.”

Peter’s smile was soft and secret, fingers clutched into Wade’s shirt and frame limp and trusting and the Alpha whispered, “Stay right here.”

It had been so long since Vanessa had passed that Wade had forgotten about this, forgotten about the way two bodies could yearn and linger and the way one partner could fall into a lazy sort of euphoria just because there was nothing better than being held safe in the others arms.

Vanessa had been an Alpha, so these sort of moments had been few and far between but Wade remembered slow nights watching the fire as she drew mindless patterns on his chest and how he’d slipped deeper and deeper under until he could have sworn the stars were shining bright right there in their cabin. He remembered Vanessa wearing nothing more than his shirt, fangs glinting as she laughed, all her edges softened and blurred as he brushed her hair or whispered sweet things into her skin as she tumbled into brilliant nothingness where the only thing that mattered was the pressure of his fingers and the rumble of his voice.

And now Peter was tipping over the edge with nothing more than sunshine and Wade holding him close. He was gorgeous, breath taking even, and it was all Wade could do not to gather the Omega up and carry him to the cabin and lay claim to him properly.

But it wasn’t the right time, it may never be the right time, not when their realities were so far separated and not when Cable was bound to return and take Peter away.

It wasn’t the right time and the thought made Wade’s blood rush hot, his fangs aching as the instinct to claim now before it was too late flashed through his core. His scent roiled sharp, fingers gripping too tight, and the change had Peter shifting against him, the Omega’s perfectly pert nose wrinkling in distress.

“No no no, no distress.” Wade tried to calm his scent, to loosen his hold. “Easy Omega, little Omega, it’s alright. Settle down.”

“Mmm.” Peter hummed and stilled again, and Wade ignored the burn in his thighs from crouching so long, the ache in his back from being bent into such a weird position, and mentally willed the Omega to stay.

Please stay.

Please don’t leave me.

They sat together for a while, and would have sat together long enough for Wade’s legs to go entirely numb if the goat hadn’t interrupted the quiet moment with an aggressively annoyed noise from outside. Wade’s heart twisted when Peter’s eyes opened wide in surprise, and then shuttered in shyness, his cheeks stained red as he peeked up from beneath his lashes.

“We probably have more chores to do?” he whispered, and Wade whispered back, “I can do them, why don’t you go rest?”

“I’m not tired anymore.” Peter denied, but the stretch and wriggle and sleepy sigh he gave said something different. Need punched Wade straight through the stomach as the Omega’s shirt rode up to expose perfect skin, Peter’s satisfied moan as he came back to himself enough to have the Alpha biting his tongue until it bled. “Okay, maybe just a short nap.”

“That’s fine.” Wade managed. “You need help back to the cabin?”

“I’m pretty sure I can walk.” Peter teased him, but standing on wobbly legs was more difficult than he imagined, and he pitched forward a little, catching himself on Wade’s shoulders. “Wow. Sorry. Seriously, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“It’s fine.” Wade ran gentle hands up Peter’s long legs to settle at his waist, holding the Omega steady. “It’s-- shit, Pete. This is fine. How are you feeling? Still floaty?”

“Feel like I’m coming back around now.” From this angle Peter was staring right down at the Alpha, rubbing his thumbs over Wade’s collarbone and the scars at the base of his neck. His eyes were lit with curiosity but not disgust, maybe even affection and Wade held his breath and waited for the inevitable questions---

“Does this hurt?” Peter asked softly and that-- that wasn’t what Wade had been expecting at all.

“What?”

“Does it hurt when I touch you?” Peter clarified. “If I touch you here?” his fingers slid under the shirt collar just a bare inch, and Wade felt the touch like a brand at his soul. God, how long had it been since anyone had touched him like this? “Do the scars hurt?”

“No.” Wade shook his head, his scent filtering thankful when Peter flattened his palms to touch more skin. “Not anymore. They only hurt when I get a new one, but once they fade, I don’t notice anymore. Looks worse than it feels.”

“When you get a new one.” Peter swept his fingers up along Wade’s neck, trilling sweetly when the Alpha tipped his head into his palm. “How often do you get a new one?”

“...one part of my mutation is that I heal.” Wade explained slowly. “I heal from everything. But the scars never go away. Every cut, every broken bone, every scrape stays on my skin forever. The older I get the worse it becomes.”

“How old are you?” Gentle so gentle over Wade’s bare scalp, a soft hush when Wade shuddered. “How long have you been collecting scars? Logan said he fought in all the wars with you, what does that mean? How old are you?”

Wade hesitated, wet his lips and steeled himself for shock and rejection before finally admitting, “Logan and I met during the war of 1812. I’d recently lost my mate Vanessa and when war broke out I went and lost myself in the fighting. Men like Logan and I-- you find each other when you’re the only ones walking off a battlefield full of dead men.”

“1812.” Peter repeated, and unbelievably, his beautiful mouth tipped up in a smile. “That’s amazing. So you-- you’re a hundred years old? Older?”

“I’m not sure of my exact birthday.” Wade swallowed, pressed at Peter's waist coaxingly. “You’re not going to ask about Vanessa?”

“I’m so sorry you had to lose her.” Peter inched closer, lips parting over a shaky sigh when Wade’s hold tightened. “She was your first mate? Have you-- have you had one since?”

Just you. “...no.” Wade shook his head. “I never thought I’d get another chance at a scent match and a soul bond.”

“Oh.” Another sigh, this one even more unsteady. “A hundred years you’ve been collecting scars, you’ve bonded and lost her, and now you and I-- um, you and I--” the Omega bit at his lip shyly. “You’re beautiful, Wade. Incredible. I wish I knew all your stories.”

“Stick around.” Wade waggled his eyebrows to break the tension, and obligingly, Peter laughed. “I’ll teach you a thing or two.”

“Plan on it.” Peter finally leaned away, clearing his throat and blinking the last of the daze from his eyes. “Chores?”

“I thought you were going to take a nap.” Wade stood gingerly, stretching his sore muscles until the hurt bled away. “Go lay down, Omega. I’ll wake you in time for dinner.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Wade jerked his head towards the cabin, then turned away so he wouldn’t be tempted to follow Peter to bed. “Go on. See you tonight.”

*************

It wasn’t easy for Peter to wake up in a cold cabin, or stumble from the bed to splash ice water on his face to help with chores, but it was easy to look up with a smile for the Alpha when Wade offered him a cup of too strong coffee to help him face the day.

It wasn’t easy to learn how to milk the goat, or to dry his clothes when Peter inevitably knocked the milk bucket over, or to keep the goat tethered tight enough to not move too far but not so tight that the ornery thing yelled at him the entire time.

But oh it was easy to blush when Wade looked up and caught Peter shirtless as he tried to wring out the wet, the Alpha’s eyes lighting red and scent charging eager for a few breathless seconds.

And it really wasn’t easy to force himself to eat red meat, but this life required more energy than Peter was used to. He couldn’t survive on beans, eggs and bread forever, so he sat down for dinner each night and ate tiny bites so his stomach wouldn’t hurt.

It wasn’t easy, but it was so very easy to trill sweetly when Wade tried so hard to pile mushrooms and wild carrots on the plate along with nuts and berries he found around the property.

“I thought you said I had to find my own salad.” Peter teased one night as Wade produced an entire bowl of gathered greens. “Are you a gatherer now, Wade?”

“It took you so long to milk the goat, I figured I should help you out with the salad thing.” Wade deadpanned, and Peter laughed at him, clear and cheerful and the Alpha only rumbled in response, closing his eyes to inhale sweet happy Omega scent.

Nothing about this life was easy, but it was so easy to live this life with Wade, Peter found himself forgetting this all had an expiration date.

He could stay here forever.

*****************

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

*****************

@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @lookuplaughing @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @water-colouredmemories @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @desitonystark @ricecakeandhoney @ardatlily @fawnandgays @bibbarnes @blackstar1602 @hi-inevitable-im-deadpool @scientifically-lesbian-jesus @the-pagely-gun-slinger @oshuncheyenne @the-dragonwolf-den @pumpkin-spidey @sozvuchiy @cappunico @chiby-chan@bluedreamdino @tired-dragons01 @ahumoki0

#ncts fics #spideypool #peter parker #wade wilson #cable #time travel #abo dynamics #soulmates #hank pym #alpha wade wilson #omega peter parker

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simonxriley · 5 years

Text

I love you and I’m sorry.

Pairing: Alexsandr “Tachanka” Seneviev x Skylar “Phoenix” Jackson (oc)

Summary: Tachanka fell in love, only to have it ripped away from him in a blink of an eye.

Words: 1,945

Warnings: Implied/reference suicide and mention of blood.

A/N: I woke up this morning and I needed to write this, don’t know why I just needed too. Because I apparently love ripping my whole heart out.

Ao3 and FF

Russian: Moya Sladost’ = My sweetness. Kotyonok = kitten

Everyone who was apart of the Outbreak never came back the same, everyone had some form of PTSD even if they hated to admit it. But Jager and Tachanka came out of it the worst.

Jager was injured and alone in the dark after having his helicopter taken down, waiting for whatever loomed in the darkness to attack. And how those seconds felt like years waiting for his rescue, hoping they could get to him first instead of those monsters.

Tachanka lost the love of his life there. Everyone made it out besides Skylar. His kotyonok!

He can still see her smiling face after rendezvousing with them after getting separated, how happy and relieved she was to see them. And how that smile quickly turned to fear when a rooter teleported right behind her, piecing her abdomen. Doc did all he could, unfortunately she succumbed to her wounds, leaving Tachanka angry and broken in the middle of the battlefield as he held and rocked her colding corpse.

It was only six months ago, to him it felt like a lifetime. The home he shared with her used to be filled with laughter and love, now it felt empty.

As he sat at the kitchen table, pouring himself another shot of vodka his eyes kept darting to the small purple journal Skylar always kept with her. He carried it everywhere with him because it made it feel like she was still with him. He never opened it though, feeling it would be a breach in privacy, even if she was gone. Deep down he knew she wouldn’t care, she never did before, she was always open with sharing her things with him.

He sighed through his nose, downing the shot of vodka and poured himself another one.

This kitchen housed so many good memories, him cooking her breakfast every morning and every time she would argue and say she could do it herself. And every time he would just laugh and go back to cooking. Them cooking dinner together every night while listening to one of her playlists, her singing and dancing around the kitchen making him laugh every single time.

The one thing he missed the most was watching her bake. Turning the kitchen into a mess with flour and different ingredients everywhere. He would always sit at the table, giving her space as she went to work with whatever she was baking that night. He can still picture her chestnut brown hair up in a bun, flour on her face as she read the recipe off her phone. Occasionally looking over at him with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye. And even sometimes he would walk over and steal a kiss or two, tasting what she was baking. Those were simpler times, the times he would sell his soul to get back. To get her back.

Now his days were filled with taking his frustration out on still targets and working on his LMG. His nights however were filled with drinking and crying himself to sleep, reaching out to the spot next to him, where she used to lay.

After another shot he slammed the shot glass down and grabbed the purple journal. He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to read and see what was inside.

With shaky hands he opened it, having a picture fall out into his lap. When he went to pick it up, he noticed it was of them, snuggled up on the couch in the rec room on base. Glaz was the one that had taken it, then sent it to them that night. Skylar later had it printed out.

He flipped through her journal, seeing the sketches she did while bored and finding another few pictures in the middle of it. Most of them were of them, a few of him and either Fuze, Kapkan or Glaz and a few of Skylar and Ash.

Taking a deep breath he felt the tears well in his eyes, blinking them away for the most part. He set the pictures aside and continued looking. Most of the journal were of her sketches until towards the end, where she actually wrote a few things down.

“Well I didn’t fuck up this mission, THANK GOD. I don’t know why Six picked me to defend a hostage until evac arrives, that’s not my expertise to sit and wait and barricade. I’m a roamer, anyways I was just happy with the operators she chose for said mission. But the real person I need to thank is Tachanka, he saved my life by pulling me out of the line of fire. Definitely need to buy him a whole case of vodka, though I don’t think that’ll fully pay off that debt.”

He softly chuckled, knowing exactly what mission she was talking about. Everything went fine, they were killing each terrorist with ease until one breached a wall near where Skylar was, stunning her. If he didn’t grab her back the back of her uniform and yanked her across the bed she would’ve been killed and he couldn’t have that.

She did thank him a day later, and that night changed their relationship for good. The morning after, she was officially his.

He continued down to the bottom paragraph, a small smile spreading across his face.

“I have never met someone more loving and caring than Alex, he treats me like a queen. He’s completely different than how I imagined him as a boyfriend, and I couldn’t be happier. Truthfully I think I love him and I know he loves me, even if he hasn’t admitted it yet.”

He turned the page to see it blank, then a piece of paper pricked his hand. He grabbed the corner of the paper, slowly pulling it out of the journal. As soon as he saw what it was his heart sank even more and he quickly opened to the page where the photo was.

He held it tightly in his shaking hands, the tears welling back in his eyes, blurring his vision. “Why didn’t she tell me? Why didn’t she tell me she was pregnant?”

Wiping his eyes he went to look at the page, seeing a few things written down.

“I’m pregnant, PREGNANT! Doc confirmed it an hour ago and I’m at a loss for words. I can’t wait until Alex gets back from his mission so I can tell him he’s going to be a papa. He’s going to be so happy, as am I. I can’t believe I’m really going to be a mom.”

He continued reading….

“As soon a he comes back home, Six is calling both of us for a new mission. Apparently there’s an Outbreak in Truth Or Consequence, New Mexico. Ash asked specifically for both of us. I guess telling him will have to wait.”

He glanced back down at the ultrasound picture, tears sliding down his cheeks. He didn’t just lose his girlfriend that day, he lost his unborn child too. A child that would have been loved and spoiled by both parents. And she was right, he would’ve been very happy about this unplanned miracle. Now his heart broke even more than he thought was plausible.

He set the photo down on the table flipping through the rest of the pages, all were empty but one. There was a sketch of him sitting at Ash’s briefing with his feet up on the table and him on his phone and a folded up piece of paper. He softly smiled, grabbing the piece of paper, and letting the journal close on it’s own.

Leaning back in his chair he unfolded the piece of paper, noticing it was a letter for him. Dated back during the outbreak.

He took a deep breath and started to read it.

“Alex, moya sladost’! This is the last thing I want to be writing, a goodbye note but after what I saw in that hell, I’m not so sure all of us will make it back and I wouldn’t forgive myself for not saying goodbye.

You have made me the happiest woman in the world, there’s not a day that goes by where I don’t feel grateful that you’re mine. I wake up and go to bed filled with so much love that I feel like I’m going to explode and it’s all because of you! Yeah we still have our bad days, like every other couple where it feels like this is the end. Only to have our love rekindle in full force. And we still always had our very good days, filled with lots of laughter...and kissing. The nights I would fall asleep in your arms and still wake up there in the morning.

I used to be so afraid of falling in love because every time I did I would get hurt. But with you, it came as easy as breathing, I don’t have to hide my true self from you because I know you’ll love me either way. As I love you!

I hope we both make it out of here and raise the child I’m now carrying. The child I want to tell you about so badly. But we need to keep our heads in this fucked up game and if I told you I know what you would do and right now I need a live boyfriend, not a dead hero. And our child needs a live father.

I can’t wait to see you as a papa, rocking our child to sleep while you hum an old Russian lullaby to him or her. Playing with our child, teaching them right from wrong and all the stories they’ll be told from your Red Army days. This child is going to be so grateful to call you their papa.

As I sit here writing this in our tent, you snoring softly beside me I can’t help but wonder what the universe has in store for me, for us. In a way I think that’s the beauty of being alive, we don’t know what our lives will bring. There is one thing I know for sure, is that I love you, more than anything in this world.

If I don’t make it back, I just want you to know that everyday I spent with you was the best day of my life! I love you Alex, don’t ever forget that! And I’ll be watching over you.”

He set the letter down, tears streaming down his face. He grabbed the vodka bottle in a tight grip, chucking it at the cabinets. Glass and the clear liquid now covering a part of the kitchen floor. He couldn’t deal with the pain much longer, everyday was hell and he just wanted his kotyonok back.

So he stood up, picking up the journal and the photo’s and headed up to the room he and Skylar used to share.

Glaz found him a week later, after not hearing from him and he became worried. As he looked down at his lifeless corpse, blood splattered on the white covers and headboard, he noticed a letter in his hand. Carefully pulling it free from his grasp, Glaz opened it and read it, when he flipped it over there was one more sentence, reading.

“I love you and I’m sorry.”

With tear-filled eyes he looked back at his body, noticing the ultrasound photo close by. He turned away, grabbing his phone from his jacket pocket. When he got to the door he turned back to look at his friend one last time. “I hope you’re with your family now Alex. I hope you’re at peace.”

#tachanka x skylar #otp: the tachanka and his kotyonok #alexsandr senaviev #tachanka #r6 tachanka #oc skylar jackson #rainbow six siege #r6s #ubisoft #r6s tachanka

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mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years

Text

The Rock angel shines; Queen x reader

Hello people and beyond. Well like I promised here is the first part of my Rock Angel series. So for those who have asked to be tagged I have you up, let me know if it doesn’t work and I’ll try to fix it as best I can. I hope you all enjoy this and have some warmly big brother feels with this chapter. Not really any warnings except for some mild swearing, scars (not suicidal but of this triggers you this is a warning for you) and TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF.

Taglist (open):

@phantom-fangirl-stuff

@mr-badguymercury

@onebigfangirlworld

@labessieisallama

@starswin

@naturalswifty89

_______________________________________________________________

April 20th, 1982

Frank Bough was hosting his Breakfast time interview discussing the next rising star of Britain.

“We first saw her make her big debut at a Queen concert at Madison Square Garden last year and ever since then she’s been recording her first album which will be released at the start of summer. Her biggest single ‘Set it all free’ took her to the charts as the youngest performer at 19 years old. Let’s have a listen.” What would then play on the television was the newly made music video for “Set it all free”.

(Y/n) was on the guitar in the same attire she wore that day at Madison Square garden, her hair this time was dyed a blood red as the chorus of “Set it all free” was being sung. As (y/n) would rock out in one shot, in another she was wearing normal clothes trying to escape the confines of what appeared to be a jailcell she would constantly beat against the walls trying to escape but then cry every now and then.

“(Y/n) (l/n) welcome to the show.”

“Oh Frank it’s an honor to be here, how are you?” I asked as I leaned up against the couch and extended my hand out to him.

“I’m doing well and you?” he said as we both shook hands.

“Fine thank you.”

“Well you have truly made a name for yourself, the Rock Angel tell me where did that name come from? Did you come up with it yourself?”

“No I’m terrible at coming up with names” I joked out as I laughed. “It was actually Freddie who came up with the name Rock Angel. Back when I was helping them and when I told them that I had written songs and played music he’d always just call me their little ‘Rock Angel’.”

“Now when you say, ‘work for them’, how do you mean?”

“I was an intern for Jim Beach.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. At the time he was asking for interns at my University and I was one of probably hundreds of other young kids to apply and by some miracle I was picked and the rest is history.”

“Now on your album ‘Set it all free’ you also include Queen on a couple of your tracks. Is that because of your history with them?”

“I love my boys so much. When it was fully announced that I was to make my first full length album after my single was released, they were so supportive and happy for me. And actually it’s a sweet story, I was recording my album at Rockfield studios, the same place where they recorded their hit Bohemian Rhapsody as well as the rest of their Night at the Opera album. And while I was recording they just suddenly popped in for a visit…..”

*November 11th, 1981*

I have been here at Rockfield studios for the past six weeks now recording my first album ‘Set it all Free’. Now I began to understand why Fred said they needed to be away from all distractions to record A Night at the Opera, because out here with all the country side, the fresh air, never have I felt such creativity flow through me.

I mean sure I’ve hit a couple of speedbumps and obstacles when it came to some songs but after feeding the chickens and riding the horses, I would suddenly get inspired.

I was currently in the studio now doing my latest song that I’ve titled “Who I am”. I had completed the guitar and vocal portion of my song and now I was recording the drums.

Now I know what you’re thinking? Why are you doing all the work? Why hasn’t a band come in and help you with the percussions? Well the answer to that is because of the sudden reservation I had made with it being the autumn season now, no one wanted to risk driving along the roads to the studio so living at the studio is just me, Mack and a couple handlers just to keep an eye on me.

Using the lessons that Rog has given me, I twirled my sticks and began doing the rhythm I had in mind. After the first half of the song was done, I stopped and flexed my hands and I said.

“How’d it sound Mack?”

“Come out and have a listen.” I took off my headphones and left the booth as Mack played the first half of the song back to me. I bopped my head up and down as my voice came up for a brief moment before I heard the strum of my guitar. The whole song so far sounded good and I said.

“Sweet, okay play it from the second verse.” He gave me a thumbs up and I went back into the recording booth and quickly put the headphones back on and as I gave him the signal that I was ready, I began the next verse of the songs for the drums.

We kept going with the song until it was perfect and as I had Mack play back to me the entire song, I got goosebumps all up along my arms and shivers up my spine. I did a successful ‘Deacy’ dance as I was happy for the song.

“Love it, I fuckin love it!” I praised.

“Sounds good love, why don’t you take a break now love?”

“Mack my deadline is fast approaching and I still got three songs to do, plus one of my songs that’s already been recorded is still missing something. I can’t afford a break.”

“But you’ve been hard at it for the past week with no break love, if you don’t slow down your fingers will bleed out and your arms will pop out.”

“I’m fine Mack.”

“Doesn’t sound like it love,” I froze right there in my spot. Mack looked just as surprised as I was, when I turned around there stood my boys.

Freddie, Brian, Roger and John.

“Oh my god….what—what are you lot doing here?”

“Well we heard our little Rock Angel would be here, so we’d thought we’d check on her to see just how her first big album is coming along.”

“And it’s a good thing we did, cause from what we just heard, you’ve been over working yourself, haven’t you love?” Brian asked using is dad voice.

“No” I said shamefully kicking my foot around as I avoided looking at them.

“Then let us see your hands.” John stated using his dad voice.

Damnit. Now I knew there was no escaping this lie this time. Truthfully my hands were heavily imprinted with both base and normal guitar strings, and my palms were scarred and cracked from the drumsticks.

“(Y/n) (l/n) show us your hands” demanded Roger. I sighed and held them out palms down. Both Roger and Bri took my hands and flipped them over and they were all horrified at how extreme they were.

“Love do you know how serious this could’ve been?” stated John.

“Based on these string imprints, any longer and you could’ve damaged a nerve allowing you to not be able to feel a note again.” Brian answered.

“And your palms, you’re lucky these scars don’t need stitches, not to mention they are as dry as the desert.” Hearing the boys say this made me rethink a little bit on how strict I’ve been to keeping my schedule.

“I’m sorry guys. It’s just that—my deadline is in a couple of weeks and with it just being me and no one else willing to travel this far up north during this time I….I had to work three times as hard as I am just a soloist and I didn’t just want my songs to be recorded separately from what I’ve already delivered through singing. You guys get what I’m saying right?” They all looked at me and Deacy said.

“We do love, but we also understand when we need to step away and not strain ourselves to the point of almost losing the limbs that need to be required in order to play them.”

“And don’t take offense to this darling but you look like shit at the moment.” Freddie stated.

“Oh gee thanks Fred.” I sassed sarcastically.

“What Freddie means is that you look so exhausted. When was the last time you had a proper sleep?”

“I’ve tried to get my daily 8 hours but so far I haven’t.”

“And what about a decent meal?”

“I had a big breakfast earlier this morning before we started recording.”

“But that was hours ago.” Mack piped in. I turned and glared at him but he explained to the guys, “In fact that usually all you would eat minus a piece of fruit, a granola bar or some water to stay hydrated.”

“Thank you Mack” I sneered at him.

“Alright. (Y/n) you need to take the rest of today plus tomorrow off, you are running yourself ragged at this point. You need a proper meal, some rest, and all the pampering you deserve.” Roger said. One look at these boys and I knew I wasn’t going to win. So I gave in and told them.

“Alright, I fold. Take me away.” I was then taken out of the studio picked up bridal style by Roger and taken back towards my room.

John unfolded the sheets from my bed and Roger put me in and John tucked me back in.

“Anything in particular you would like me to cook up?” Roger asked.

“I’ve been kinda craving for Tikka Masala. But you don’t have to make it if you don’t want to.”

“Nonsense, I’ll get right on it.” He kissed my head before leaving my bedroom. Deacy came back with a first aid kit and he said to me.

“Okay give me one of your hands, love.” I handed him my right one since it was closer to him. He took out the rubbing alcohol and some cotton swabs and he began to lightly dab around my palms which made me wince in pain. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, not your fault. It’s mine. You all were right, I’ve been overworking myself.”

“You have such dedication poppet, that’s the first thing that I noticed about you. But it is always best to take a break. You’re already a star to us and to the world. And you always will be, don’t let the pressures and stress of this business affect you, otherwise we’ll lose our Rock Angel forever.” I looked up at John and nodded.

He paused his doctoring and looked straight in my eyes and softly smiled before leaning forward and pressing his forehead against mine. I smiled softly as his nose bumped up against mine in an Eskimo kiss before he kissed it and went back to doctoring my hands.

Once they were bandaged up John adjusted my pillows and soon Brian came up and he said.

“How are things up here?”

“Well I’m officially the mummy’s wife” I joked as I raised up my bandaged palms. The two of them chuckled then Brian came in and he sat down beside me as he handed me a cuppa of Jasmine tea.

“Your favorite, just how you like it.”

“Thanks Bri,” I took the mug and took a small sip and hummed in content.

“Dinner is served madam.” Freddie gestured as Roger came in with a tray with my meal, plus a plate of cracker, and some ham and cheese sandwiches.

“You guys really did go the full yard of pampering.” I said as the tray was sat down in front of me.

“All the best for our little angel.” Freddie said as he gingerly took one of my hands and kissed my fingers, his tache lightly tickling them. I then began eating my masala and my taste buds had died and gone to heaven.

“Oh my god, Rog this is…..this is incredible.”

“Thank you darling, of course I had help from Fred here.” I thanked them both and continued eating. I would occasionally dip the crackers into the masala for a little kick. I then moved to the sandwiches before finally feeling so full I felt like I was going to burst.

“Ohh that was so good,” Brian gathered my now empty tea mug and placed it on top of the tray and he took it back down to the kitchen.

Once he came back, I noticed he had actually brought up one of the acoustic guitars. Probably the one I may have left in the kitchen one time just to practice my chords and experiment with a song.

“Alright now that that belly of yours is full, its time you got some sleep.” Freddie said. Brian strummed on the guitar and I said.

“You guys are gonna sing me to sleep?”

“What better way, with the way your little brain has been buzzing lately, it needs a sedative. Allow us to be that sedative you need.” Brian then began to play notes to “Love of my Life”. Even without a piano, it still sounded just as beautiful as Freddie began to sing the song.

I adjusted myself to lay down on the bed as Fred kept singing the song and soon the rest of the guys joined in on the backup vocals. Their voices harmonizing so beautiful which soothed my mind and I began to relax and shut my eyes.

“The next day after just hanging around the farm, in thanks for all that they’ve done I asked them if they’d be interested in being featured in my album, at first they were hesitant but I managed to convince them and so we got to recording once my hands were better of course. And as for the song I had a problem with, it was fixed up when I decided to make one version of the song just me singing, and then the same song featuring Queen, which to be honest I prefer the latter’s version.”

“So what’s up next for you?”

“Well I’m gonna take a summer vacation but then get ready for my first ever European tour.”

“Well, all the best of luck to you. (Y/n) (l/n)’s album hits the shelves this summer and you can catch her up in her upcoming tour. We’ll be right back after these messages.” With that we went off the air.

After my interview I was back at my flat and collapsed into my couch after having to wake up at 4am just to get to the station and get ready for that interview. Just before I went back to sleep, my phone rang and I groaned as I answered it.

“Hello.”

‘We saw your first television debut love.’ I heard Brian’s voice say on the other end.

“Did I screw up?”

‘You were perfect darling, and the press won’t hold anything against you. Well done love.’ I heard Roger’s voice say.

“Thanks lads, well I’m bloody exhausted these past few months have been brutal, I’m getting some sleep and sleeping until supper time.”

‘Alright love, you deserve the rest. Rog and I will pop in on you later to make sure you aren’t oversleeping too much.’

“Okay, good day guys.”

‘Sleep well love.’ I heard them both say. With that I hung up the phone and fell right asleep there on my couch.

#bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagines #bohemian rapsody movie #bohemian rhapsody imagine #bohemian rhapsody x reader #roger taylor #freddie mercury #john deacon #brian may #brian may x reader #roger taylor x reader #john deacon x reader #freddie mercury x reader #queen imagine #queen imagines #queen fanfiction

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ineffablecolors · 5 years

Note

Number 6? Or number 11? I’m always a sucker for when Emma’s grinchy heart grows three sizes as she discovers Killian really isn’t an asshole.

Thank you, anon! This is definitely not finished but I’m too excited to share it and hear what you guys think. Sooo probably expect part 2 toward the end of the week :D

I’m doing winter prompts from here. If you like them, check out ‘Tis The Season and if you really really like them, check out my brand new book which also contains a selection of Christmas stories. :))

11. you’re the asshole of our group and we don’t get along, but then i find out you make soup for the local shelter

you’re such an assh- oh. [Part 1] [Part 2]; ~ 3, 200 words; FF.NET || AO3

“Love, you know Isteer clear of all that.”

Emma suppresses theurge to roll her eyes at his deep timbre, the way he rolls the word “love”around and flutters his eyelashes slightly – all obviously meant to charm MaryMargaret and let him have his way. As always.

“Oh, come on, Killian.You can let me have this one. It’s just a fortune, you don’t even have to showit to us.”

Jones sighs as ifdrawing a fortune slip out of the Christmas hat MM has been thrusting at eachof them in turn is the biggest sacrifice he has ever been asked to make. Emmafeels only slightly petty about the way she pointedly strides over and plungesher hand into the red felt.

Truth be told, Emmaisn’t the biggest fan of MM’s numerous Christmas activities either – the SecretSanta, the cookie exchanges, the ostentatious dinners, and now the Christmasfortunes, but there are few things she will not do for the sake of her bestfriend. There are also few things she will not do to spite Killian Jones.

If the way he doesn’t suppress his eyeroll at heractions is anything to go on, he knows it too.

“What did ya get, Ems?Please, let it be one of the saucy ones I wrote!” Ruby somehow manages to clapwith the glass of wine in her hand.

Emma pulls the pieceof paper out of its miniature envelope and groans at how many times it’s folded– by the time she has managed to get it all smoothed out Ruby is making dyingnoises.

“Alright, alright. Iswear this is made for people with miniature fingers. Here – A selfless good deed is the thing to make aheart sweet.”

This time she doesn’tsuppress her eyeroll. Her only consolation is that Ruby huffs in displeasureand drops back into her armchair, clearly displeased with Emma’s less than “saucy”fortune.

“Oh, that’s lovely,Emma!”

She puts on a smilefor Mary Margaret’s sake and looks back at the piece of paper. She has nodesire to “sweeten” her heart but doing a good deed over the holidays doesn’tsound like such a bad idea actually. Truthfully, Emma feels a little bad abouthow impersonal most of her holiday “good deeds” have been. She usually donatesto some organization aiding homeless people and sends some presents to anorphanage of her choice – both close to her heart, but she has never actuallygone and gotten involved personally. Maybe this will be the year.

She is drawn out ofher thoughts by the little jingle of the Santa hat that Mary Margaret is nowliterally shoving in Jones’ face. If the guy wasn’t such an asshole, Emma wouldactually sympathize with him.

“Come on, Killian.”

Especially when MMbreaks out her most winning smile. It’s as effective as Jones’ charms, if notmore so. Not that those have ever worked on Emma.

Honestly, she has noidea how such an arrogant man as Killian Jones wormed his way into the friendcircle of people such as David and Mary Margaret Nolan, Belle French and GrahamHumbert. Sure, she and Ruby aren’t without their thorns but their places in thegroup were solidified by their statuses – hers as Mary Margaret’s best friendand Ruby’s as Belle’s girlfriend, and they are always willing to take part inany group activities and eager to be with their self-made family.

The same cannot besaid about Killian Jones. Sure, he is a friend of David’s but he seems toaccept their invitations about as often as he turns them down. He never takes part in the Secret Santa. Henever hosts movie nights at hisplace. He rarely joins on day trips.He rarely joins them for dinnercelebrations, choosing to slink in when they are already at the bar instead. Hehas even missed a birthday party on occasion. Emma – with how much this groupof people means to her – thinks he is not nearly as appreciative as he shouldbe of how David has allowed him into their family and how they continue toinvite him to everything despite his flakiness.

At least he got overhimself enough to draw a fortune. Mary Margaret is positively beaming at him.Emma is trying to put a limit on her eyerolls allowance for the evening.

“Well, what does itsay?”

Jones seems startledby her question. His cough is incredibly uncomfortable and he looks around asif—

“Would you mind, love?”

He extends the littleenvelope toward Mary Margaret and she and Emma both look confused for a moment.MM seems to get with the program much faster.

“Oh, of course!”

She thrusts the hatwith the rest of the fortunes at Emma and takes Jones’ fortune. It’s only whenher slim fingers work their way into the small envelope and start on thetedious process of unfolding the tiny slip of paper that Emma realizes that’s apretty not one-hand job.

“Do you want me toread it out loud?”

Killian shrugs.

“If you wish.”

Mary Margaret looksdown at the fortune and Emma has just enough time to get confused by the slightblush that quickly works its way into her cheeks before MM glances at Ruby andit becomes clear that Killian has drawn one of Ruby’s “saucy” fortunes.Figures.

“Ummm,” MM swallowsand passes it to him and Emma is shocked to see that whatever is on the pieceof paper makes even Jones’ ears turn a little bit pink.

He stuffs the fortuneinto his back pocket and he and MM share a look that obviously swears them bothto secrecy in seconds. Emma’s curiosity is warring with her desire to show nointerest to the extend that she even considers sneaking the thing out ofKillian’s back pocket. Which she will never do. Of course not.

“More wine, Ems?”

“Eh.”

With obviousreluctance she holds her glass toward Ruby and one of the bottles of red Jonesbrought. Emma is not a snob. Not by a long shot. But Killian Jones has trulyhorrendous taste in wine. Or, more likely, he truly cannot be bothered to pickand buy a good one. It’s just another little thing that shows her how little hecares about the group of people who have welcomed him so warmly.

Emma has spent ashocking amount of time thinking about ways to fulfill her fortune. She hassettled on getting more involved with the two initiatives that she generallyjust donates money to. So three weeks before Christmas she finds herself at ashelter in a less than thriving neighbourhood, dressed in her oldest jeans anda dark hoodie under her thick winter jacket.

“Hello, may I helpyou?”

Emma looks at theblonde woman before her and her first thought is that she looks like she isrunning a law firm rather than a shelter’s kitchen. Her hair is pulled backinto an immaculate braid and her white sweater is absolutely spotless. Emmafeels like it’s mocking the safety of her hoodie.

“Hi, I’m Emma? Icalled beforehand to ask when you might need volunteers?”

“Oh, yes, Emma! Thankyou so much for coming! We’re still setting up in the kitchen but I canintroduce you to everyone and show you to the station. We should be opening inanother 15 minutes or so,” the woman gives a brisk nod and starts walking. “Oh,I’m Elsa, by the way.”

By the look and soundof Elsa, Emma is sure they will be opening in exactly 15 minutes.

“So, tonight you’ll bemanning the station with Leroy – he is a veteran here so if you have anyquestions, he will know the answer.”

The short man givesElsa a nod while Emma just receives a suspicious once-over.

“Don’t let the scowlfool you, he is here every Christmas and will never refuse to show you theropes,” Elsa assures her and continues on, deaf to Leroy’s grumbling behindthem. “My sister Anna and her fiancé Kristoff should be joining you any minute. They have the bad habit ofcutting it pretty close quite often.”

Elsa’s pursed lips arenot exactly frightening but they sure don’t invite one to consider tardiness avirtue. Emma would be more put off but she considers that it probably takes astrong hand to organize and run such a thing.

“And don’t worry – ifthey are a bit late, Killian will come out to help you start off.”

Killian? Wha-

“Jones?!”

The guy stirring theenormous pot of soup gives a little jump and whirls around, the spoon in hishand splashes a little and Elsa must have put some sort of magical protectionon her sweater because it remains miraculously white and spotless despite herproximity to the stove.

“Swan?!”

“I see I don’t have tomake introductions here,” Elsa seems pleased by this development.

Emma is still stuck onthe fact that Killian Jones is makingsoup at a homeless shelter.

“So I’d say you candirect any questions at Killian. He has just as much experience as Leroy and heis much nicer to newcomers. Or justmuch nicer, period.”

Elsa laughs for thefirst time since Emma met her. Killian seems uncomfortable with praise for thefirst time since Emma met him. Emma has no clue what is happening and beforeshe can truly absorb it all Elsa waves at some place where the aprons are keptapparently and floats out, leaving her alone in the small kitchen with the lastman she expected to find there.

“You’d better grab oneof those before you get started, Swan. Can get quite messy after a couple ofhours.”

“What are you doinghere?”

She cringes a little.That was a bit too accusatory when asking why someone is being charitablearound Christmas.

“Same as you, I’mguessing.”

She looks at KillianJones and tries not to think that she is seeing him for the first time. It’shard though – especially when the tension in his shoulders is clear as day andshe can tell that his tongue is running restlessly over his lips even though hehas turned his attention back to his soup. The soup that he apparently made.That he often makes. For the homeless.

“You do this?”

His shoulders do thisrippling thing and now they are tight with another kind of emotion.Frustration, if she has to guess. Emma is surprised at how well she can readKillian’s emotions right now.

“It’s not the Ritz,Swan. You can chop some vegetables and stir some soup even with one hand.”

That’s not what—

“That’s not what I mea—“

“You meant why I’mdoing something other than throwing back beers and flirting my way into women’spanties for a change?”

She opens her mouth.Then she closes it again. Well, it kinda is what she meant, she just didn’tthink he—

“Yes, I’m well-awareof what you think of me. I’m sure finding Graham or David here wouldn’t havebeen such a shock.”

No, it wouldn’t have.But the bitterness in his tone is almost as much of a shock as his presence.

“I just—“

She is really not surewhat she would have said, she is really grateful for the girl that suddenlystorms in – Anna she will soon learn – chattering a mile a minute.

“Oh, you must be Emma!”

Somehow, in the spanof a second, Anna manages to introduce herself, give her a quick and veryunexpected hug, whirl around, kiss Killian on the cheek and whirl back aroundin time to introduce Emma to her fiancé.

“You should really puton a—“

“Here,” Killian thruststhe worn apron into her hands and turns back to his soup.

Anna beams at Killian’sback, oblivious to the tension that still lingers in the room.

“Lesson number 1,Killian is a lifesaver, if you fuck up – spill something, burn yourself, cut yourself,just come here and he’ll fix you right up.”

Emma is almost certainthat Killian mutters something along the lines of “I’m sure she’d rather not”but Anna is already dragging her out the door and talking about how Elsa’sschedule is law and must be abided at all costs.

She spends three hoursladling out soup that Killian Jones made for the less fortunate. It gives herplenty of time to think about things. Or more like, to keep going in circles.As soon as she has convinced herself that she has wrongfully labeled KillianJones an asshole, the cynical voice in her head pipes up and insists that onegood deed does not a good person make. As soon as that happens, another smoothor wrinkled face beams at her as she hands them their full bowl.

The thing is that thisisn’t just “one good deed”. Killian is obviously an almost permanent fixturehere. Elsa, Anna and Kristoff obviously know him quite well and think nothingbut the best of him. Some of the people that come in even ask about himpersonally. Anna lets a particularly excited little boy back into the kitchenand Emma is pretty sure he was clutching a handmade Christmas card and—

Her cynical voice isreally losing this one.

She heads to the backto leave her apron and take her jacket, still lost in thought, convinced thatJones must have gone home by now and she has some time to consider what thehell she should say the next time she sees him.

“You can leave that overthere with the rest. Elsa will collect and wash them.”

She doesn’t yelp buther eyes almost pop out of her head. Thankfully, Jones has his back to her again,though he has now moved to the sink.

“Jesus. What are youstill doing here?”

He sighs and Emmamentally slaps herself. Maybe it’s time she stops questioning his presence.

“As I pointed outearlier, Swan, this is not the Ritz. The “chef” and the dishwasher are one andthe same.”

“I got that, I’m notsome spoilt princess that stumbled here by mistake, you know?”

“I’m not questioningwhy you’re here,” he says emotionlessly.

Right. That’s her job.

“I can help with theclean up before I take this off.”

She motions to herapron and before Killian can approve or disprove of her suggestion, she reachesfor one of the huge pots. That’s her first mistake. Her second one is assumingit’s empty.

“Shit!”

Water with bits ofvegetables spills all over the floor and her shoes. And her old jeans. Fuck.

“Bloody hell!”

“Shit! Sorry! Shit,shit!”

“Go find Elsa. She’llfind you a change of clothes.”

“I’ll clean this and—“

“Swan,” Killian fixesher with a serious look that looks surprisingly calm and not angry. “It’s notanywhere near warm in here. Go get changed, I’ll clean this up and we’ll getyou a cab.”

She opens her mouth toprotest but snaps it shut and actually does as she is told.

Killian finds heroutside ten minutes later – soaked jeans and all.

“Before you startberating me, Elsa had just left – some engagement with her aunt.”

Jones sighs and runs ahand through his messy hair. His hand is very pink, probably something to do withwashing a mountain of pots and ladles.

“And cabs seem to beallergic to this street.”

“The neighbourhood ingeneral,” he mutters and his hand reaches toward his hair again when Emma feelsthe full body shiver wrack through her.

Killian’s hand freezeshalf way up and he sighs in resignation and drops it back to his side.

“Come on, Swan.”

He starts walkingbefore she can so much as blink at him in confusion. Emma is only a little putout that she feels compelled to follow.

“Where are we going?”she asks as she catches up to him and tries to ignore the way the cold windplasters her wet jeans to her flesh.

“I live just aroundthe corner.”

“You do?”

Killian doesn’t sayanything.

It’s not a niceneighbourhood and it’s not a nice building. But Emma is much too cold toconsider much of anything until Killian Jones is waving her into his apartment.

“Sorry, it’s not—“ hedoesn’t finish, just waves his hand in the air and hurries to turn up the heat.

He really doesn’t haveanything to apologize for – the place is tidier than her apartment has everbeen. Everything seems to have its place and nothing is just thrown around eventhough it’s basically one room – his bed and wardrobe at the far wall with twoprecariously high columns of books instead of a nightstand, a worn couch and asmall IKEA table in the middle and a kitchen corner to her right.

It’s not exactlypleasantly warm inside but Emma is not numb with cold anymore. She is awareenough to read the new tension that has settled on Killian’s shoulders. Not thestrange and unfamiliar one that Elsa’s praise put there earlier but one thatEmma is a bit more acquainted with – the one that always seems to fall over himwhen he is faced with some task that he cannot perform one-handed. Shame.

“I think these willalmost fit you.”

She snaps her headaround and looks down at the sweatpants that Killian is holding out to her.

“You can…” he waves atthe only door in the apartment that probably leads to the bathroom. “I’ll tryto get you a cab or an Uber.”

“Thanks, I—“ she lookshelplessly between him and the sweatpants, then she takes them and feels a bitsilly over the way she clutches them in front of her chest. “Thanks.”

His bathroom is justas spotless as the rest of the place and just as small and sparsely decorated.Emma puts down the toilet seat and leaves her jacket, wallet and phone on itbefore she bends down to unzip her boots.

She cringes at themuddy footprints that she has left on the blue tiles.

“Great.”

Is it something abouttonight in particular or has she always been the worst? Now, Jones isdefinitely never inviting them to—

The position shefreezes in must be comical to an outsider. In her socks, trying to avoid herown muddy footprints, one hand tugging the wet jeans off one leg and the otherclutching at the sink. It’s not comical to Emma. Emma is too busy having anepiphany about Killian Jones.

Killian Jones whoregularly helps out at a homeless shelter. Killian Jones who lives in a smallapartment in a bad neighbourhood. Killian Jones who never hosts movie nights. KillianJones who never takes part in the Secret Santa. Killian Jones who never joins themfor dinner in the kinda trendy restaurants that Ruby makes them spurge for fromtime to time. Killian Jones with the busy schedule. Killian Jones with thecheap wine.

Fuck.

“Fuck.”

#captain swan #cs ff #cs au #the asshole fic #xmas challenge

124 notes · View notes

rememberstilinski · 6 years

Photo

blue christmas || mitch rapp (smut)

word count: 5,884

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, shower sex, angst

author’s note: and here is mitch! i’m so sorry for posting so late and so off schedule! but i hope this makes up for it! please, let me know what you think, i’m so happy with this now that it is finished, this is all thanks to none other my lauchee! @thelittlestkitsune is such an angel and she saved my life with proofreading this for me! thank you, darling for being so spectacular! anyway, thomas is up tomorrow, and that will probably be posted later tomorrow night!

pairing: mitch rapp x reader

holiday masterlist.

masterlist.

For Y/N, this was a regular night for the past two months. Get home, eat dinner, watch some TV, shower, then go to sleep. It seemed like her life was a record that was broken and only repeated the same thing over and over again.

She sat in front of the TV, having spent her whole day watching the cheesy and ridiculous Christmas movies that the Hallmark channel played from October until December. At this point, she was getting sick of them.

Regularly, she was a woman who still loved the idea of love and who loved being in love. But when the one you love has been gone for months at a time, your take on love slowly begins to shift. Love isn’t always happiness and rainbows or whatever bullshit you’ve been fed your whole life.

It’s something more than that.

Y/N didn’t understand what love really was until she met Mitch Rapp. Without knowing it, he showed her what love really was. He showed her that love was patient and that’s why she was okay with waiting when he was on a mission. It didn’t matter how long he was gone, he could be gone for two days or two months and when he came back, she’d still be waiting.

And that’s where she was right now; waiting. She didn’t know when he’d be back home or if he was ever coming back home, but she held onto the hope that he always was. She prayed to whatever was listening to bring him home safe to her; and he always came back home. He may have had bruises, cuts, or gunshot wounds, but he always came back to her.

With a tired sigh, she pressed the home button on her phone, the screen illuminating her face and showing her the late time. 2:45 am. Since Mitch left, she stayed up late more often than not, not knowing when he’d call because she didn’t know where he was or what time it was for him.

His phone calls were rare, so she slept by the phone, always keeping her ringer on, never turning on the ‘do not disturb’ mode. Every minute she could talk to him was precious. Their conversations were short and simple. He’d always say the same thing:

“I love you, Y/N. I’m safe.”

She would say the same exact thing and afterwards, the line would go dead. No matter how much her heart hurt when they weren’t able to have longer conversations, she didn’t care. She just needed to hear his voice, to know that he was okay and that there was a possibility he was coming home.

By now, her eyelids were heavy and she was exhausted. She sat in the middle of the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table in front of her, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked from her phone back to the television. A blanket that she and Mitch kept in their room was draped across her body, some of it bunched up in her fist as she held it to her face, breathing in the scent that somehow managed to linger on it, no matter how many times she washed it.

She yawned and ran her hand over her face, rubbing her sleepy eyes. She adjusted her body, laying across the couch. Her head laid on one of the throw pillows that matched the sofa next to her phone, turning it up louder just in case Mitch called while she slept. She wrapped herself in the blanket, still holding it close to her nose. Falling asleep, she wished to feel her lover holding her to his chest or to hear his soft snores as they fell asleep together.

The loud ringing in Y/N’s ear startled her from her sleep, causing her to jump up from her position and look around the room, her breathing labored. She realized the sound was coming from right next to her, from her phone. The screen was lit up with an unknown number and she hurried to answer.

She slid her finger across the screen, holding it to her ear. She touched her soft lips, waiting to hear the words that she and Mitch always did before saying anything important. They always said the date they met.

“February 25th.” The familiar deep and raspy voice came from the other line and she exhaled in relief, not realizing she’d been holding her breath.

She felt tears pool in her eyes as she heard Mitch speak. They last spoke two weeks ago and she’d been in agony waiting for the phone call from an unknown caller. She closed her eyes, her breath shaky as she repeated their idiom.

“February 25th.”

“Y/N…” He mumbled. She could practically hear the soft smile in the way he spoke. She felt her heart shake as he said her name so quietly. Oh, how she wished to hear his voice in her ear as she fell asleep. “I love you. I’m safe.”

The woman mouthed a thank you to what she prayed to every night. She realized that the phone didn’t click off right away so she cleared her throat, relaxing in the cushions of the couch, her head on the pillow, the blanket over her shoulders.

“Can you talk?” She asked.

“Yeah, I have a few minutes.” He told her, staying a silent for a moment. “You don’t know how good it is to hear your voice. To hear you speak more than two words.”

“I could say the same thing. You had me worried for a minute there.” She said truthfully. “Do you know when you’ll be home?”

“I don’t. I’m thinking it’ll be soon though.” He explained, the slightest twinge of happiness in his tone, but she failed to notice.

Sighing, Y/N closed her eyes and relished in the sound of his voice even if it wasn’t as crystal clear as she wished. It was better than nothing. “How long is ‘soon’?”

“I’m close to finishing up this mission, that’s all I can say.”

“Well, I’ll leave the Christmas tree up and the presents out until you get home. We

can celebrate then.” She laughed softly, hearing him do the same. The smallest feeling of serenity suddenly sank in, but it wasn’t the kind of peace she felt when holding him after so long. She didn’t feel whole, she didn’t feel like she was in her body.

When he was gone, a piece of her was gone. She wasn’t home unless he was there. It was like she was watching herself from the outside, watching her own life drag along through window as she waited for Mitch to come back home. But when he was back in her arms, her head laying against his chest and listening to his rhythmic heartbeat, everything was better, clearer.

She could see the colors of her world more vividly and she felt calm. She wasn’t living on this constant edge that she was moments away from falling over. That feeling always disappeared the day she and Mitch parted ways.

He hummed happily. “I can’t wait.”

The line was silent for a moment. It was strange but comforting. Whenever she and Mitch spoke and they had time to actually hold a conversation, they had to speak fast, because they never knew when their next conversation would be.

Mitch was the one to speak up. “Speaking of presents, I made some arrangements with Irene and I was able to get you a gift.”

“What is it?” She asked, smirking as she knew that Mitch would not tell her anything.

“It’s a surprise, my love. I can’t tell you that.” He chuckled. “But I can tell you that it will be delivered any minute now.” Almost as if his words triggered it, the doorbell rang. She looked over the couch and to the door next to the coat closet. “Was that the doorbell?”

“Yeah.” She said, throwing off the blanket she had wrapped around her.

“Well, go get it! That’s probably your present.” He told her.

She grinned. “I am, I am.” She rushes over to the door. With one hand she held the phone to her ear, with the other she untwisted the various locks and pulled the chain guard to the side.

Pulling the door open, she looked out into the empty hallway of the apartment building, the door across from her staring back at her. She frowned when she looked down the hallway to see it void of anyone.

“It’s not here.”

“Maybe look at the floor?” He suggested.

She took her boyfriend’s advice and looked at the floor, a folded note on the hardwood flooring. “Hold on, there’s a note.” Holding the cell phone in between her shoulder and her ear, she grabbed the note and unfolded the paper, her eyes reading the words.

Your present has been delivered.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and looked up. Her jaw dropped as she saw who was coming out of the apartment of the old woman across the hall. Mitch gave the small lady a kiss on the forehead, thanking her for her help.

“Anything for young love, my dear.” The woman smiled at the two of them and walked back inside her home.

Mitch looked at Y/N, a heavenly smile curling at his lips. His face was covered in dark scruff, his shaggy hair hidden underneath a Santa hat, his body wrapped in a blue coat she’d seen him wear many times during the cold months in Rhode Island.

“I’m your Christmas present.” He whispered, looking at the girl still kneeling on the floor. She felt tears pool in her eyes as she dropped the phone to the ground and jumped up into Mitch’s arms.

He caught her without hesitation, dropping his bag as her long legs wrapped around his waist. Her ankles locked together, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she nuzzled her face into his neck. He held onto her tightly, his own arms circled around her waist. He leaned his head against hers, closing his eyes as he finally felt at home.

He didn’t understand that being in love meant home went from a place to a person until he met her. Mitch was a man with few happy stories, he was dark and cold all because he always lost the people he loved. Though, Y/N was this ray of light that helped him live again and now all his happy stories are of her. Love is being able to bring someone back to life and that’s exactly what she did for him.

Y/N sniffled, warm tears rolling down her cheeks as she held onto the man she loved, planning on never let go again. Mitch shushed her, soothing her of her cries.

“I’m home, baby. I’m home and I’m not leaving for a long time.” He sighed, turning his face slightly to kiss the side of her head.

She lifted her face from his neck, looking at him with glossy eyes. “How long?”

“Four months at least.” He smiled. Y/N sighed in relief, her forehead falling against his as she just received the best gifts she could ever been given. He kissed her nose, closing his eyes as his cold lips touched her skin.

Still holding her, Mitch walked into the apartment as he kicked his duffel bag inside. He closed the door with his foot and walked her over to the back of the couch, setting her on it. She laid her head against his chest, listening to the smooth heartbeat she was wishing to hear just earlier that night.

“Where were you?”

Mitch ran his fingers through her long and tangled hair, smoothing out the knots she’d created while sleeping. “Moscow. It was fucking cold.”

She chuckled and looked up at him, her chin resting against his toned chest. He had a cut above his eye, in his eyebrow; the side of his eye was bruised. She lifted her hand and grazed the tips of her fingers over the purple mark next to his eye. He winced slightly at her touch, but relaxed soon after.

“I wanna unwrap my present.” She looked into his warm eyes. He nodded and pressed his lips against hers gently. Her eyes closed, her lashes tickling his defined cheekbones. He held her cheek with his large palm, his other hand on her hip.

She grabbed the zipper of his coat and pulled it down, pushing it off his shoulders. Mitch hoisted her up around him, her legs circling around him once again to hold on. She clung to him as he held her up by her ass, walking to the bathroom connected to their bedroom.

He pushed the door of the bathroom open, using his hand to turn on the light switch. She trailed her hands to his hair, pulling off the Santa hat he was wearing. Her fingers combed through the dark, silky locks as Mitch groaned, his lips parting and allowing her to slip her tongue against his.

They shared a french kiss as he set her on the cold countertop, a gasp falling from her as the cold surface touched her bare legs. Mitch smiled into the kiss, happy to be able to hear the sounds he missed so dearly over the past two months once again.

She pulled away and smiled up at him. “I love you.” Y/N whispered. The words weren’t needed because he already knew. He knew that she loved him in the way she looked at him like he was the most important person in the world. He knew by the way she kissed him like he was air and she suffocating. He knew by the way she held him when he was near. Words were never necessary.

Mitch looked down into her breathtaking colored eyes. “I love you.” He spoke with everything he was. The words he said to her coming from the darkest depths of his very soul and heart.

She smiled as he returned the three words. She held onto his hips, lifting the black sweater off his body, throwing it onto the floor. She noticed he hissed in pain as he lifted his arms. Seeing her confused expression, he nodded down to his side.

Her eyes moved to where he gestured to and saw the long cut right underneath his left pectoral. Her face fell as she looked at the scar that was covered in dried blood. “Mitch… are you-”

He immediately saw the worry and the anxiety that began to build up within her. Cupping her face, he shook his head. “I’m alright. It’s just sore. It’s a fresh one.”

“How long ago?”

“Right before I disposed of everything and got out of the country.”

She sighed, nodding in understanding. She reached out to touch it, her finger hovering over the injury as she looked at him for approval. Mitch nodded, her skin against his doing wonder to soothe him of any pain that had been in his muscles or on his bruises.

“Let's shower and afterwards I’ll clean it for you?” She asked, biting her lip subconsciously. He agreed, walking to the shower to pull the curtain and turn it on to a pleasant temperature. He walked back over to her and wrapped his fingers around her sweatshirt, pulling it over her head and dropping it to the floor.

Mitch didn’t realize earlier that she wasn’t wearing a bra, so he was pleasantly surprised to see her bare chest in front of him. Her nipples were hard as the cold air hit her sensitive buds.

Everything about her was beautiful. She had few moles on her collarbone and her sides, but she didn’t have as many as he did. Most of the marks on her body were soft freckles that he liked to call ‘angel kisses’. They were so small that they always reminded of an angel’s kiss, so that’s what he’d call them when talking to her.

He’d seen her naked many times in the years they’d spent together, but it was different in this moment. There was love for sure, there always had been, but right now he never wanted to let her go. He wanted to keep her around forever and make her his wife and that scared him more than it should’ve.

The last time he proposed, his fiancée died less than ten minutes later. He knew it wasn’t likely she was going to be killed like Katrina was, but was he feared most was Y/N leaving. It didn't matter if it was her own free will or she taken from him, it terrified him to think that he could lose the woman he loved so easily.

Mitch put his hand over her heart, feeling the steady beat underneath his palm. “What are you doing?” She asked, her eyes looking over every detail of his face.

“Making sure you’re real.” He said quietly, almost afraid that if he spoke to loud he’d scare her away. “I’ve dreamt about touching you and being with you so many nights these months I’ve been gone that I don’t know if you’re real anymore.”

She hooked her fingers underneath his chin, lifting his head so he’d look at her. “I’m real.” She licked her lips and wrapped her small fingers his hand, moving it to set over her breast. He squeezed the mound on her chest, a mewl sounding from her as she stared at him.

He pressed his lips to her chest, kissing each softly colored freckle on her soft skin. Her small hands went to his back, fingers pressing against his back muscles. He hooked his digits in the waistband of her shorts and panties, pulling them down her legs.

Y/N dragged her hands to his sides, her fingers dipping against his defined v-line. She rounded her hands to the buckle of his belt, undoing it and pushing his jeans down to the floor. He stepped out of them and pulled her closer.

He pulled her lip between his teeth, tugging playfully. She giggled and felt him smile. He hummed happily. “Let’s go warm up. I’m still freezing.”

He let her jump off the counter and walk over to the shower. She pulled open the curtain and allowed him to walk in before she did simply so she could look at his muscular ass.

“Hey, I can feel your eyes on me, baby.” He chuckled.

“That sounds like your problem.” She said, stepping into the porcelain tub and under the water. The warm water cascaded over her as she tilted her head back. She sighed as the soothing pressure of the shower head hit her back. The knots of anxiety she had tangled up in her body because of Mitch being gone loosened significantly. It was like a heavy weight lifted off her chest and she could finally breathe.

Mitch’s arms wrapped around her waist as he pressed against her, his lips on her neck. She opened her eyes and saw the familiar colors of his eyes. He smiled softly at her as her arms hooked underneath his arms and held onto his shoulders. Her bare chest pressed against his, her lips pressing sweet kisses against the gunshot scar he had on his shoulder from when Katrina died.

“You smell really bad.” She mumbled, a loud laugh rumbling in his chest at her bluntness. He pulled away and stared down at her as she smirked. “Can I wash your body?”

“I’ll let you wash my body if I can wash yours.” Mitch negotiated.

She scoffed. “You make it sound like that’d be torture.”

“Depends on where I touch you, doesn’t it?” He smirked, grabbing the bottle of body wash while his partner grabbed one of the loofahs. He opened the bottle, pouring the soap onto the loofah and scrubbing over her shoulders and trailed down to her perky breasts. He covered her right one with his left hand, holding onto it firmly. The quiet sigh she let out didn’t go unnoticed by him.

He began washing her sides and trailed down to her hips, bending to press kisses against her skin. The eucalyptus mint scented soap getting on his lips as he touched her, but he didn’t care. She held onto the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his dark, wet hair, fingernails scratching at his scalp. He kissed across her stomach and to her other hip bone, sucking a purple patch onto her flesh. He stood back up, still caressing his lips over her torso and eventually to the valley between of her breasts.

“Mitch.” She sighed, lifting his head so he’d look at her. Her eyes were dark with need as she looked into his own beautifully colored irises. “Kiss me.” He obliged and held onto the side of her neck, tilting her head up to lean down and kiss her with every ounce of passion and love he had for her.

He kissed her with such intensity, it made her knees weak and her heart pound in her chest. Walking her back into the wall, he pressed her against the tiles, his mouth working at her warm skin. Her head rolled back against the tile, his hands going to her side and smoothing down to her hips. He bent down, his cock sliding through her folds.

His cock was pressed between their stomachs as the water cascaded over their bodies, steam going over the walls of the shower and drifting into their bedroom through the open door. Rubbing himself against her, he felt her arousal seep from her core and onto his bare cock.

“Can I?” He asked, his words breathy as he looked up at her. No matter how heated the situation was or how far into anything sexual they were doing, he always asked if it was okay for him to do anything to her before continuing. Y/N loved how much he respected her and it’s not like she would ever deny him what he wanted.

She nodded, giving Mitch a clear sign of her approval. He grabbed his hardened member, pumping his member for a few moments to prepare himself. Once he was ready, he rubbed his tip at her clit, her body jerking as the touch in her bundle of nerves.

Mitch smirked, dragging the head of his dick down to her soaking entrance. He slowly pushed into her, careful not to hurt her by shoving himself into her tight pussy, knowing she’d been left without more than her fingers inside of her in the months he was gone.

He stayed still inside of her, groaning at her tight environment. His head fell to her shoulder; she felt much better around him than he would ever been able to dream or substitute with his hand without her. When the nights were lonely and sleepless, he’d think of thrusting slowly into Y/N as they made love or holding her right after while they were in the after haze, his head laying on her back because they both laid on their stomachs while sleeping.

She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, her digits tugging at his hair while his thick girth and long cock stretched her out. Her head rolled back against the wall, eyes squeezing shut at the small pain in her lower half. Mitch placed the gentlest kisses to her collarbone, wanting to go slow the whole night so he could savor the way she felt and the way she looked.

He was always an outstanding lover. Sometimes he would fuck her into the mattress, leaving dark bruises on her soft skin. She’d leave him with deep scratches, one that she was sure had the ability to scar. Other times, he was gentle and dragged out their time together. He admired every single detail of her body, no matter what it was. He kissed the white scar she had on the side of her thigh from accidentally cutting herself with a razor while shaving; he caressed the skin on her breasts above her nipples, tearing circles in that same spot.

The nights he was slow were the ones that left the deepest burns within her body. She had such a passion for him, one that burned brightly. The only way she could describe their love was fire. She’d always believed fire was such a beautiful thing. It was warm and exciting to be around. She always had the best experiences around fire. When she was younger, she love going camping with her family, she enjoyed spending time in the boat on the water or cliff jumping because she was such a free soul, she always lived life to the fullest.

The nights she’d go back to the family camping spot, there would be a large fire that her father had built and learned to maintain throughout the night. Whenever she’d sit around it in a sweatshirt and leggings, she would look at the air above the fire. It made what she was looking at through the orange and yellow flames blurry, the images distorted. It was beautiful, the way the objects across the fire would move in ways she knew they couldn’t.

Even though she loved the fire, she knew how scary it was. She knew how dangerous it was. As mentioned earlier, the string desire Y/N felt for him was like a fire. Where there is desire, there’s going to be a flame. Where there is a flame, someone’s bound to get burned. That was her biggest fear. She was terrified that the hot flames she compared to her love for Mitch would touch her and leave her with an aching burn that would leave the intense stinging feeling forever.

He was in such a dangerous field of work and every time he walked out that door to go get milk from the grocery store or go to jiu jitsu, she didn’t know if he was coming back. She constantly lived on edge, constantly afraid that he would be ripped away from her, but it was worth it for that fire like feeling she got with him.

With a pleasurable sigh, she gripped at the pale flesh of his mole covered back, wanting him to move, the pain having subsided and now all she felt was need. Her skin was burning, the water hot and the heat radiating from Mitch even warmer. She tapped at his back. “I’m ready.”

He took a deep breath and moved out of her. His lips pulled into a tight line as he tried to hold back his obnoxiously loud groan. The sound vibrated at his lips as he looked to her. He started by pulling out slowly, then pushing back in with force. Every time he pulled from her, he inched out further and further, shoving himself back in at a faster pace.

Moments later, he was moving in and out of her, the feeling amazing and making the contentment sky rocket. He bent his knees, his hands moving to her sides and up to hook underneath her armpits, holding onto her as he thrusted up inside of her. Her hands were all over his shoulders and his shoulder blades.

With one hand, she held onto his hair as she kissed her lips, but broke the kiss to breathe. She hooked her arm around his neck, her arms moving down as he pushed inside of her at the deepest angle he could. She moaned constantly into his ear, his hair slicked back as she combed through the locks with her fingers.

She tilted his face back towards hers, looking into his eyes while their noses nuzzled against each other. She held onto the sides of his face, leaning into to kiss him, but he pulled back, teasing her. Their bare chests rubbing against each other, her hard nipples poking at his pectoral muscles.

“Mitch, please. Don’t tease me.” She whimpered. “I need this, I need you to kiss me.”

“I want to look at you. I want this view painted in my head until I grow old.” He said smoothly, his mouth parted as he panted. His hands, which were hooked underneath her armpits, slid up, lifting her arms as he dipped his head down to suck kisses into her neck.

He grabbed her hands in his large ones, holding them against the tiled shower wall. Her eyes fluttered close, his member pushing into her and his hip bone rubbing at her clit. She held onto the shelf in the corner of the shower, her other hand on Mitch’s shoulder.

That warm feeling built up in her stomach as she neared they both neared their highs. Her head tilted back, eyes closing once again as Mitch lifted her legs up off the floor and around his waist. She gasped loudly, the sound echoing in the small space they were in. He thrusted info her, having direct access to her g-spot. Each time he touched it, the feeling set off in her like a bomb of pleasure.

“Oh my god.” Y/N shook in her lover’s hold, her grip on the shelf loosening slightly. “D-Don’t stop. Please, just don’t stop.”

The assassin shook his head, the need to reach his climax running through his veins and making his heart beat faster against her chest. His back muscles rippled as he did all the work bounced her up and down on his member. The sore muscles he had before forgotten for now, but would later feel even worse, but it was totally worth it.

He found her lips, meeting her for an open mouthed kiss. He held her close to his body, their chests pressed together fully, her breasts flush against him as they moved together. She slid her tongue into his mouth, their lips puckered. He tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss.

As their tongues met each other, it made them burst. The nerve endings in their tongue feeling the most pleasant sensation at the mere graze they shared. The kiss was slow and laced with pure love.

The sudden feeling of a coil snapping in her abdomen hit her like a truck going full speed. She pulled away from the kiss, moaning out loudly into the bathroom walls. Mitch watched her face scrunch up slightly as she came, the water droplets sliding down her face.

He followed not long after, cumming inside of her as he usually did because she had a very convenient IUD implanted before they even got together. Bareback was better anyway as she liked to say.

After settling down, he set her on the ground, her legs shaking underneath her body. He held her up, seeing how she was about to collapse in the porcelain tub. She leaned against him, her arms pressed between their chests as the water coming down on them started to get cooler. Mitch held her tight, his breathing labored from their physical activity.

“I’ll clean you up and then we’ll go to bed.” He whispered in her ear, feeling her nod.

He grabbed the loofah from the floor and put more soap on it, realizing that cleaning her before wasn’t much good because they only got dirtier. He was careful with touching her in the spots he was well aware she liked to be touched. After cleaning her, he washed the blood and dirt off his own body, feeling much cleaner than he had since leaving Moscow.

He turned off the water and opened the door, lifting Y/N bridal style and carrying her into the bedroom. Once he set her on the edge of the bed, he grabbed two towels from the linen closet, giving one to her to dry her off and using the other to dry his own body.

When they were done, he threw the towels into a hamper, watching her scoot further up the bed, laying her head on Mitch’s pillow. He chuckled, smiling at the sight of his tired companion. She was still naked, her arms scrunched up underneath the pillow as she faced the other side of the bed that was usually her side.

“You’re laying on my pillow.” He told her, crawling up the bed to lay next to her on his stomach. He curled his own arms under the pillow, his face right in front of hers. He watched her tired face, seeing her eyes close as he laid next to her.

“Deal with it.” She huffed, making the corner of Mitch’s lips turn up in a soft grin.

He stayed silent after that, watching her as she slowly drifted into a peaceful sleep. The bags underneath her eyes were evidence that she hadn’t been sleeping very well and he felt bad because he knew it was his fault. He knew that once Y/N got used to sleeping with someone, she couldn’t sleep without them. He could only imagine her nights were as sleepless as his.

“I love you, Y/N.” He whispered, leaning in to peck her nose softly. He wasn’t expecting her to respond because he figured she was asleep, but he must’ve been wrong because she spoke soon after he did.

“I love you, too, Mitch.” She opened her eyes, looking completely exhausted. Mitch glanced at the clock behind her on the nightstand, the time reading 5:00 am. “You know, I didn’t know if you were coming back home this time. I was really scared.” She mumbled.

His eyebrows scrunched up, his fingers pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. “Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know. Just everyone you leave, I get scared you won’t come back. Even when you go to get the mail, Mitch. I count the seconds every time you leave. I watch the clock. I didn’t want to lose you around Christmas.”

He shook his head, whispering softly. “Hey, I’m never leaving you. I’m always going to come back home.”

The tears began to pool in her eyes, her lips quivering as she told him everything she’d never admitted out loud before. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because you are my home, Y/N, and I will always come back home.”

She sniffled, licking her lips of the salty tears. “Promise me. Promise me you will always come back to me.”

He grabbed her hand from under the pillow she was laying on, hooking his finger with hers. He kissed his thumb, sealing the promise with a kiss. “I promise to forever come back to you.”

Y/N watched him as he made their solid deal. Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his, their hands pressed to her collarbone. She laid her head on the same pillow he had his head on. He wrapped his arm around her, her face nuzzled against his.

As they fell asleep, their fingers were still hooked together. Y/N held onto the promise they made that night like it was the most precious jewel. She carried with caution as did Mitch. He kept up his end of the deal until the day they died together peacefully in their bed.

He even kept it after that. He always came back.

what’d you think? let me know!

wanna be tagged in the rest of smutmas?

Tags:

@nocturnalzeal @lovefilledtragedy @sourshawn @obrienskhakis @lovelydob @fuckwhateverfuck @padmeisgay

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omgdatphantho · 7 years

Text

Just Dan

Part 5

Summary: Dan and Phil finally sit down to talk

Warning: Angst, Arguing

Word Count: 3,298

A/N: Well this is it you guys. The story has finally come to an end. I hope you enjoyed reading this series as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, I want to make it clear that the way Dan acts in this story doesn’t apply to all genderfluid people. This is a work of fiction and needs to be viewed as such.

Part 4

Masterpost

Ao3

Fanfic Masterlist

By the time Phil get to the cafe, the sky has become overcast and a slight chilled breeze drifts through the air. The flannel shirt he's wearing is barely keeping him warm and he wraps his arms around himself. The combination of nerves and chilly air has caused him to shiver.

He pauses on the pavement and peers inside. A warm, inviting amber light spills through the windows. People move around in a relaxed manner as if the world has ceased to exist outside. Phil enters and is immediately overpowered by the scent of coffee and baked goods. Warmth begins to to spread throughout his chilled body.

Dan's sitting in the corner of the cafe in an overstuffed armchair. There’s a latte cooling on the coffee table in front of him. He picks it up and curls his hands around the mug. His eyes dart to the door everytime it opens. Then he releases his held breath once he realizes that it isn't Phil.

As he was to talk himself out the meeting for the eighth time, the door opens once again. Dan's breath catches and his throat constricts as his eyes sweep over Phil. Dark skinny jeans cling tight to his legs and his red flannel shirt fits to his upper body as if it's a second skin. His eyes are wide as he scans the space and elation lights up his face when he catches sight of Dan. He waves at him, when holds up a finger to ask him to hold on while getting in the queue. Dan nods and lets out his held breath.

Phil grabs his drink from the pick-up and weaves his way through the space. He's sitting stiff on the edge of his chair while holding his mug tight between his sweater paws. The grey sweater he's wearing tapers int to accent his slender waist. A black knitted hat slouches on the back of his hair and he absently keeps checking that it's there. Phil smiles at this and plops down in the opposite chair.

"I wasn't sure if you were going to come." Dan says after a few moments of silence. Phil sits up straighter in his chair.

"I begged you for a meeting and it would be pretty stupid of me to not show up for it." Phil responds. Dan narrows his eyes at him and sends him a look that says 'That's completely something you would do.' Phil shakes his head and a light laugh slips through his lips. "I know, but that the past me. I've changed."

"I find that very hard to believe." Dan replies, his voice is flat and has an edge to it. Phil bites his lip and shifts his eyes off Dan. An awkward pause blooms between them and Phil clears his throat.

"That's why I asked to meet you. A friend of mine has recently pointed out that I've been really unfair and ignorant to you. I would like to correct that." he explains. Dan nods, then shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He takes a long, slightly loud sip of his now lukewarm coffee.

"So what do you want to know?" Dan asks. His voice comes out more shaky than he meant it to. Phil pats his pants before pulling a folded up piece of paper out of his back pocket. With a few flicks of his wrists, the paper lays unfolded in his hands. Dan lets out a snort. "You actually wrote a list?" he asks with a chuckle.

"Yes, I didn't want to forget anything." Phil responds defensively. Dan holds up his hands in surrender.

"Chill man. It's a question." Dan states. Phil closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry." Phil apologizes. Dan shrugs. His eyes glance towards the windows to register the fading light. Truthfully, he wants to get this over so he can return to the safety of his bed. “I mean it. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you. You don’t deserve that. Just because I’m being an ignorant arse doesn’t mean that I have to subject you or others to that type of behavior.” Phil’s words come out in a voice that sounds genuine and Dan’s taken aback by the whole thing.

“Um. Thank you for saying so.” Dan manages to get his own words out with minimal fumbling. Phil smiles and Dan gives him a small one in return. They end up staring at each other for roughly a minute.

Dan clears his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over both of them. Phil diverts his eyes away, taking a long sip from his cup. “So what are your questions?” Dan inquires, trying to steer them back to why they’re here. Phil sets his cup down and settles his list into both of his hands. He’s hoping that Dan doesn’t notice the slight shake of his fingers.

“What does being genderfluid mean to you?” Dan wrinkles his nose at the question in a way that tells Phil he doesn’t understand it. “I guess I mean how you would define being genderfluid to yourself?” Phil asks, feeling lucky that his voice sounds steady. Even though he’s already here, he’s starting to second guess himself. Part of him thinks this is all a huge mistake and is trying to convince the rest of him to run as far away from Dan as he can. The other half of Phil is telling him to suck it up and deal with it. This is most likely the only chance he will have to get answers to his questions and make amends with Dan. Each side is making a compelling argument, but Phil’s willing himself to stay put.

Dan snorts, then claps his hand over his nose and mouth with his eyes spread wide. Phil bites on his lower lip. “Sorry,” Dan apologizes. “It sounded like an interview question. I didn’t mean to be rude.” Phil shakes his head.

“It’s alright. It kinda is. I mean I saw it, or a variation or it, in an interview with someone who identifies as genderfluid. I can’t remember who though, but I just thought it would give us a good starting place.” Phil explains. Dan nods, then shrugs.

“I guess it’s who I am. It’s really more of a word to help me explain who I am. I feel like both a girl and a boy, depending on the day or my mood. I move along the identity spectrum.” Dan answers, hoping it’s the response that Phil’s looking for. Phil nods and Dan figures he didn’t do too bad.

“When did you realize that you are genderfluid?” is Phil’s next question. Dan tells of being different as a child. He talks about wanting to experience more feminine things. His parents were supportive about his exploration. This leads into questions about Dan’s friends and family. That, in turn, leads to questions about clothing preferences. Phil smiles along, absorbing information, and asking whatever pops into his head. Time slips away from them and darkness settles over the town.

“I need to get going.” Dan says, glancing out of the window at the darken sky. Phil nods.

“I do too. Thank you for this.” Phil says with a smile. Dan gives him a small smile in return.

“If I’m honest, this wasn’t as horrible as I thought it would be.” Dan confesses, setting his mug in the return bin.

Phil smiles widely. “I’m glad to hear that. We could hang out like this again sometime.” he says with hope. Dan pinches his mouth tight, the gears in his head turning.

“Maybe. We will have to see.” Dan says in a noncommittal fashion. Phil nods, but a small bit of disappointment takes root in his chest. He would like to hang out with Dan again, but his brain reminds him that he has a long way to go to fix everything.

“Hello?” Pj asks. Dan takes a deep breath.

“I met with Phil.” Dan says, his words rushed together.

“I thought you were going to ignore him.” Pj states. Dan sighs.

“I was, but I changed my mind. I’m allowed to do that.” Dan snarks. Pj snorts.

“Alright. Calm down dude. It’s a question. So what happened?” Pj asks.

“We ran into each other in the hallway and he begged me to talk. I gave in and we met for coffee. I got home from that a moment ago. Now I’m talking to you.” Dan states. Pj snorts.

“Okay, but what did you talk about?” Pj asks.

“About what being genderfluid is like and what it means to me. He actually had questions written down. From what I gathered, he did research at some point. We talked about a bunch of stuff about my life.” Dan informs him.

Pj hums. “How was it?” he asks.

“Not bad. I actually had fun at one point.” Dan says.

“Be careful.” Pj warns.

“Aren’t I always?” Dan questions.

“Well-.” Pj starts, but trails off. Dan huffs.

“Oh hush it.” Dan says before hanging up the phone.

Things seemed to have changed for the better. Aaron and Phil had reconnected after a brief hiatus. Dan and Phil were pleasant to each other at school. Chris and Pj were trying their best to be supportive of Dan’s new found friendship with his former bully.

Dan’s crush was another matter though. It had dissipated slightly after the dance fiasco. The longer that Dan spent in Phil’s company, the stronger it came back.

“Be careful. If he could bully you once, he could do it again.” Pj warned. Dan nodded along, but the words went in one ear and out the other. Phil had changed for the better; Dan was adamant about it.

Dan and Phil were spending more time outside of school together. They met for coffee, took walks in the park, and hung out at each other’s houses. The longer they spent together, the more they learned about each other. They discovered that they share matching passion of reality television and video games. With each passing day, Dan slipped deeper into his crush. To an outsider, it looked like they’re dating each other. Even Pj and Chris questioned Dan on the subject, but he denied it. He had hope though.

Hope is a fragile thing and trust is even more delicate. Everything can be shattered in mere moments and with a few slips of the tongue. Dan rounds the corner in school, heading to home for the day. He comes to a halt. Phil’s backed up against the lockers. Gary and Joe are standing in front of him, pinning him in place. The group hasn’t noticed Dan yet.

“Admit it.” Gary growls.

“Admit what? There’s nothing to admit.” Phil shoots back.

“Admit you’re dating that Girly Boy fag.” Joe demands. Dan bites his lip, stopping him from making a noise. Phil scoffs.

“What are you two even on about?” Phil asks. Gary and Joe roll their eyes.

“We saw you on Saturday. You were at the cafe with Girly Boy and you both looked pretty chummy.” Joe states. Phil thinks back to Saturday.

They had gone to the cafe in the afternoon. They were both craving coffee and a break from their wandering around the shops. The only seat available was a small couch. They were sitting pretty close to each other, but that’s how they always sit; in each other’s spaces.

“It wasn’t like that. We were having coffee.” Phil states. Gary and Joe give matching unconvinced looks.

“Sure you were. Word around is you’ve been spending a lot of time around him. Did you take him home to fuck him?” Gary asks. Phil shakes his head. They did end up at Phil’s after the coffee shop, but to play video games.

“It’s not like that. There’s nothing going on between us.” Phil says.

“Deny all you want, but we see ya. You’re turning into a faggy boy.” Joe states. Phil narrows his eyes.

“No I’m not.” Phil insists.

“Must be to be able to spend all that time around Girly Boy.” Gary spits out. Phil can see Joe cracking his knuckles out of the corner of his eye. Gary pulls his hand back, curling his fingers into a fist.

Phil starts to panic. Gary and Joe look as if they’re about to beat the crap out of him. “I’m not. I barely even like the kid.” The words slipping out of Phil’s mouth unprocessed. A loud gasp echoes through the hall and three heads turn in the direction of the sound. Dan’s still standing in the entrance of the hallways with his mouth open wide.

“Well, well, well. Look who it is, Girly Boy. Didn’t your mumma teach you that it’s rude to eavesdrop?” Gary sneers.

In the blink of an eye, Gary and Joe descend onto Dan. Phil’s standing where they left him, frozen in place and a horrified look on his face. The bullies push Dan to the ground and start kicking him. The whole attack lasts a few minutes, but it feels like ages for both Dan and Phil.

It didn’t take long for Gary and Joe to get bored. They toss Phil one last look before disappearing down the hall. Phil finally breaks out of his stupor and rushes to Dan’s side. Dan’s slowly pulling himself off the ground, already feeling where bruises will form.

“Dan? Are you okay?” Phil asks with concern.

“Fuck off.” Dan spits out. He winces as he stretches out his sore torso.

“Dan? Please?” Phil pleads. He reaches out and lays a hand on Dan’s shoulder. Dan shrugs him off and starts making his way out of the building. Phil walks next to him.

“I said fuck off! Fucking leave me alone you wanker!” Dan yells. Phil stops in his tracks, unsure of what to do. He watches Dan hobble out the door.

Dan shoots off a text to Pj and Chris, then collapses on his bed. Hot, angry tears spill from his eyes. He clings to his pillow as he sobs.

“Dan? Dan? Wake up.” a soothing voice coos. Dan blinks a few times. The sky outside his window is showing the first rays of the sunset. His eyes itch and his body is stiff. He must have cried himself to sleep. When he sits up, he notices Pj and Chris sitting on either side of the bed.

“Are you okay?” Chris asks. Pj rubs comforting circles into Dan’s back and Dan sags into him, shaking his head.

“What happened?” Pj whispers. Dan’s breath hitches and a few tears slide down his cheeks as he remembers.

“Gary and Joe beat me up.” Dan whispers. Pj and Chris nod in understanding. Since Phil’s stopped bullying Dan, Gary and Joe have taken over with earnest.

“Anything else?” Pj asks with suspicion. Dan appears far too upset for getting kicked a few times.

“Phil didn’t stop them.” Dan whispers back.

“Phil was there?” Chris asks. Dan nods. Pj and Chris share a surprised look before turning to look at Dan.

“Yeah he was. They cornered him in the hall and questioned him about why we’ve been hanging out. I happened to come across them on my way out the building. Phil denied that there was anything going on between us. They said all this horrible stuff about him. He said he didn’t even like me. That’s when I made a noise and they saw me. Then, Gary and Joe kicked the crap out of me. Phil stood by and watched.” Dan explains. Pj circles his arms around Dan and pulls him into a hug. Chris pats Dan’s leg sympathetically.

“He didn’t do anything?” Chris asks. Dan shakes his head.

“No. He stood there. I guess he really didn’t like me very much.” Dan says. They lapse into a brief silence.

“Was there anything going on between the two of you?” Chris asks. Pj shoots him a pointed look and Chris give him a bewildered look in return. Dan shrugs.

“Not really. We had gotten close, but there wasn’t anything romantic between us. At least not on his end.” Dan states. Pj and Chris share a grimace.

Phil shows up to school the next day looking like he hadn’t slept the night before. He hadn’t. The guilt of not helping Dan plagued him and his horrible words played like a broken record in his mind. He actually likes Dan a lot; not in a romantic sense, but as a friend.

He didn’t see Dan at all the day or the next either. Phil tried to find him, but he figured Dan was trying to avoid him on purpose. The weekend came and Phil showed up at Dan’s home, but he was turned away. His attempts were for not. It appears as though Dan had dropped off the face of the earth.

Dan didn’t attend school the day after the beating, but he went out of his way hide from Phil. The knife of betrayal stuck deep in his chest and Dan made no movement to dislodge it.

Phil felt he was going crazy. He couldn’t find Dan anywhere and he couldn’t get ahold of him. He broke down and cornered Pj; questioning him about Dan’s state and whereabouts.

“If he wanted you to know about him, he would let you know. Dan’s extremely forgiving, but you might have crushed your olive branch.” Pj states. His voice is level, but his tone has a hint of cold.

“I understand. Let him know that I feel awful and that I would like to apologise.” Phil says mournfully. Pj nods.

Dan knew that his luck couldn’t last forever. He’s coming from his last class, passing through the stairwell when he bumps into someone. He stumbles back a few steps, but is grateful to not have fallen to the ground.

Phil’s passing through the stairwell, trying to sneak out the back of the school. He had spotted Gary and Joe waiting for him at the front entrance. He’s been ducking them since the incident, stalling after school or sneaking out the back.

“I’m sorry.” Phil apologises to the person he bumped into. He looks up and bites back a smile.

Dan looks up and frowns. Phil’s standing across from him, failing to hide a smile. Dan rolls his eyes and sighs. “It’s you.” he snarks.

“Dan-.” Phil starts, but trails off. Dan huffs in annoyance.

“Move.” Dan says, trying to step around Phil. Phil steps directly in his path, stopping him.

“Dan please.” Phil pleads. Dan shakes his head.

“No. No ‘Dan please’. You have no right.” Dan spits out.

“I’m sorry.” Phil cries out.

“I don’t care. I tried, I really tried. I liked you. I liked you both as a romantic interest and as a friend. You’ve hurt me one too many times.” Dan confesses. Phil has a sharp inhale.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t stop them. I sorry for what I said. I’m sorry.” Phil rushes out.

“I don’t care! Don’t you understand? Don’t you get it? You’re not worth my time or my affection. You had chance after chance and you set it ablaze. You didn’t care about me. When it came time to stick up for me or our friendship, you reverted back to your old ways. You hid behind a facade. I don’t know you. Leave me alone. Forget about me.” Dan says. He pushes past Phil and walks down the hallway.

Phil’s taken aback by Dan’s words. He knows Dan is right. He had chances and he blew it by reverting back to his old self. He has no one else to blame, but himself. Phil stands like a statue as he watches Dan’s retreating figure and he feels his heart break.

#phan #phanfic #phan fanfiction #dan and phil #dan #dan fanfic #phil #phil fanfic #dan howell #dan howell fanfic #phil lester #phil lester fanfic

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sighmonsnow-blog · 5 years

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Gaia and Theia

I wrote this short story today while home sick. I will be surprised if anyone figures out what inspired it. ;) Anyways, here goes:

Gaia and Theia

We were only children. Children who longed to learn, to touch and to taste, to feel the warm honey of knowledge on our tongues. We were children who didn’t know lives denied of sweet candies, of cool summer breezes, or of smiles.

Until we met each other.

Theia and I met through the barrier of a window, the perception of a softer world. I was standing inside, and I caught a glimpse of her dancing airily in the sunshine, laughing as the grass licked at her sun-kissed legs.

That was the first thing I can remember my mother ever said to me sternly. I was only four years old and she caught me staring longingly out the glass. “Gaia, darling, don’t go making friends with that girl. Don’t talk to her, and even if her eyes seem to sparkle and her laugh is light, do not touch her. When she is outside you are inside, and you will never be in the same room. If your skin meets with another’s, you may never see the light of day.”

This was when I first learned. I was destined not to know the feel of another child’s skin, the sound of their voice as it rolls volubly through their mouth. My skin is made of fire, and others of ice, and if I were to touch them, they would melt within the spaces of my fingers. Previously I had never requested contact. I knew from the inside of my core that I was not human the way others were. Until that moment, friendship had never been on my list of desires.

For the longest time I had only two desires. And sadly enough, they conflicted in the most intricate of ways. The first I had been indoctrinated into at a young age: impress my mother. It was my core desire and with it came learning all I could, smiling brighter than any other I’d ever seen, and causing the eyes of others to part when graced by my presence.

But I had another desire, a far more secret one that I kept locked up in the only space that could hold it: my heart. I only wanted Theia, truly.

As I grew, I became a mischievous child. I covered my body head to toe with silks and satins, and I wore intricately styled gloves wherever I went. I stood by the glass and pleaded to my mother. “Please,” I would whine, naively, “just one wave. A hello. I only desire to be her friend. I only desire companionship. I promise, we will never touch.”

My pleading only caused anger to grow inside my mother. Why couldn’t I understand? She never seemed to understand the thoughts that caused children to run rampant. This is what I will do: not speak, not touch. But as her anger festered, my brain was driven in circles until our lives were driven apart. I woke up one day when I was seven and I had two realizations.

The first: I no longer knew who my mother was. We ate meals together and she taught me everything I knew, but the forces that drove us to compatible learning are also the ones that have now driven us apart.

The second realization I had was much deeper, and although the first shattered my beliefs, this second one caused me to rethink all that I had been doing thus far.

This realization was, well, I now had only one desire.

This was the exact moment in my mind, that my assignations with Theia truly began. As friends, of course. We both were thrilled at the idea of doing something that we had been told all our lives not to do.

It began with a crisp, folded piece of parchment that I deliberately left in the place where I knew she would be the next day, twirling and blowing bubbles. Just as I had planned, she picked up the paper. Slowly and carefully, she read my note. Turning to my window, we locked eyes, for the first of many times. And then, much to my surprise, she briskly ran away.

I thought for the next few hours when she didn’t reappear, that it was a solid rejection. I could handle that, but it made me no less upset. Defeated, I slinked back to my room.

The next day I woke up, and I sat by the window. For a brief second, the sun lit up a tiny piece of paper, folded into a crane. Excitedly, I ran outside. I picked up the crane and unfolded it’s wings carefully with my pudgy fingers. She had scrawled back a short but thoughtful note, in practically illegible handwriting. Not illegible for its inconsistencies, but for its appearance of being far closer to art than to the words of a child. I suppose I may have understood at the time, that those two were the same things.

For many months we played this game with each other, secret letters and trading places sitting at our respective windows. She always in a dress of green silk, and I of red satin.

We were never meant to love each other. To experience friendship in each other’s words. But we did anyway. Because we were also children, and we didn’t know better.

It took no time at all for us to become close. She would blow bubbles that would pop when they would encounter my rose-colored window, and I would smile as if they had passed through the glass and touched my lips instead. We played these games with each other, one of us hidden behind a clear barrier, and the other dancing with the wind. My dreams were filled with her billowing dress, and my desk drawer was filled with physical reminders of her- delicately folded paper structures. I lied awake imagining what it would feel like for her fabric to touch my skin, scrunching up mine to my chest in response. But mostly, I wondered what it would be like to see her eyes up close, to feel her blonde locks and her gold colored skin.

It practically drove me crazy thinking about her. But I knew that what my mother said had real weight. I knew in my heart that she was right, and I could never touch Theia.

But the brain and the heart don’t always work on the same wavelength, and logic wasn’t going to stop me from wanting only that one thing.

So we grew up, seemingly together in spirit but physically apart. I learned of all her life and her past, and she of mine. We practically knew more about each other than we did of ourselves. A few times, we even sent each other homework assignments instead of letters. I will definitely say; our shared intelligence benefitted the two of us greatly in our separate searches for knowledge.

After many years we found ourselves teenagers and our rebellious natures grew. She stopped worrying that her mother would see her as she pursued me, and so instead of playfully sitting several feet away from my window, one day, and every day subsequently, she walked right up to it, and pressed her face to the glass.

For the first time I was truly able to see her eyes. They were the palest green color, with hints of the yellow that made up the softest parts of her hair.

This was the point at which I knew for a fact that I loved her. That I always would love her. And that if she were ever to fade from my life I would lose the most beautiful part of being alive and human- true, uninhibited love.

These years were the sweetest of my life. Those when I would look out the window and spend my day staring into her eyes. She started leaving her written gifts of my windowsill, and when she took a few steps back, I would gingerly open my window and steal the letter inside. From then on, I kept my parchment in an alcove beneath the window, even though I knew this was risky should my mother find it. It was worth it, however, because we no longer had to wait so long to hear what we always imagined was the other’s voice in our heads.

I think this was when she realized that she loved me back. Or maybe it’s simply when I realized that fact. Nevertheless, I knew. She started writing different sorts of letters to me. They were less like diaries, and more akin to declarations. She would describe me in metaphors that I had never heard uttered about someone as plain as me before. This made me ecstatic, alight with love, and I wrote her back in the same way, telling her all the things I meant to say for so long.

We would joke that I was Romeo and she Juliet, because this was what it felt like our love was. In essence, this was true, but not in practice, because we both were determined not to succumb, or die. Truthfully, our love story was far closer to a real life retelling of Pandora’s Box.

At least this is what I thought she meant. When I read these letters back as an adult, I see a different light shining behind her messages. She was not so innocent. A bittersweet passion raged beneath her surface. Hatred for the cards life had dealt us and for the way we could never speak to each other. But a love for me. And this is why I never saw what was to come next, I think, because I thought that the love was the undertone for all of her thoughts, not the hatred. I should have known that Theia would do anything to get what she wanted.

It was night the last time I saw Gaia. She had left her house and strolled along to mine in the moonlight, wearing every piece of jewelry I had ever tucked into our papers, glinting like the goddess that I had always thought she truly was. Her warm aura was spread through the air, refracted by the frost on my window pane. Quickly she walked up to the window, a smile quickly spreading across her lips. I arched a single dark eyebrow at her. What is the meaning of this? I thought.

Slowly she brought her delicate hands up to the glass and wrote into the frost, backwards, so I could read it. Clearly, she had been practicing this maneuver.

“Gaia,” it read. “If I we were to know the last night of our lives, would you want to spend it with me? Would you let me touch you, and say your name, just once?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Yes, I wanted to say, of course, I wanted her just as much as she wanted me. But I knew the logical answer was no.

If only I had been logical that night.

I nodded swiftly, and she gestured for me to open the window. I did it, then cautiously stepped back. Quickly and gracefully, she climbed into my house, and I could feel the universe burst with her presence, and every dead plant immediately come back to life.

At that moment, time stopped. My name left her lips. Her voice was sweeter than I ever could have imagined, and for the second time that night, I wasn’t sure if she was real. Was I looking at a girl, or a goddess? I didn’t have time to think about it.

“Theia,” I replied, and she practically started crying.

“I’ve wanted this since before I was born.” She then strode closer, her aura getting brighter and brighter until she was upon me, our bodies entangled and her lips on mine. Her arms wrapped around my neck. We were closer than any two people had ever been in the history of humankind.

But I couldn’t tell you what her skin felt like, or her hair, or her lips. Because the fire that I had always been melted her, ice queen, until she exploded, vaporized, leaving my hands feeling like I had lost something that I had been carrying my whole life. She turned into the brightest stars, and left me on Earth.

She was too bright, and she truly did blind me.

I didn’t know that I had blacked out until I woke up in the hospital. I was barely alive, covered in bandages and scars, some of which I still have to this day. Four eyes were staring at me as if I was an object that had just been delivered, and not a child. Two of those eyes belonged to my mother, who looked more disapprovingly at me than when I told her that I wasn’t going to be a scholar. She was certainly disappointed, but I thought for a moment, I almost detected hurt.

But the other two eyes were unlike my mothers. They were green instead of brown. For a moment when I awoke, I thought I was looking at-

“Theia.”

“No dear, I’m not…” she winced, as if it hurt to say her name. “I’m not Theia! Theia is dead and it’s because of you!” This woman, Theia’s mother, was the opposite of my own. She wanted to look angry but instead she was only hurt. Theia’s mother sat down in a chair beside me, put her head in her hands, and cried. She threw a note a top my chest.

“Here. Read it, She wanted you to have it.”

Dear mother, dear Gaia, it read. There is something I must do now that I am older. There is something that I have longed to do for many years and if I die doing it, it will be worth all of my pain. I have wanted only one thing in my existence, and I have been told my whole life that this was the one thing I can not have. Well I’m tired of it! There is a girl I love, and she deserves to know what it feels like to be touched. Gaia, love, I hope you always keep my letters, and my green dress. Please, my heart has always been yours, and I hope now my belongings are too.

Love, your daughter, your friend,

Theia, Juliet, Pandora.

Theia’s mother took the letter from me as tears slipped from my eyes. This is when it hit me: Theia is dead.

That day, instead of walking home with Theia, I walked home alone. When I arrived, I found that the window had been shattered. My mother made me promise that I would never try to speak to another person again, and I happily obliged.

I have never been outside since.

If you want to find me, I’ve spent each day staring out the window. On days where I squint hard enough, I can see Theia dancing. We got the window fixed, but her image stays refracted around my mind.

You can give a piece of paper a life. You can read in between the lines and you can turn them into a person.

But when you’re always looking through a rose-colored glass, one day the person that you created in your mind is going to shatter. You thought that you shared the same understanding. You thought that you both knew that the green dress wouldn’t look green through colored lenses.

The truth was that she was never meant to grow up, and she never did. She left me with a broken window that I could fix, and a heart that I couldn’t.

Ever since Theia died, I’ve kept her dress wrapped around my neck like a shawl, the way her skin touched me once.

I always wanted to touch her dress, but never like this.

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