#(the pebble said “damn are you the sun because my eyes hurt when I look at you” and I just had to) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maladaptive-ninja-returns · 3 years

Text

Into The Thick of It (1)

Loki x Female Reader

Chapter 1: The Cult

Series Summary: Her work as an agriculturist nearly takes the readers life is not for a stranger (and his weird looking dog) who later turns out to be the God of Mischief. Thrown into a completely different realm, you want to figure out a way home while trying to stay out of the way of this literal God. But fate has its own plans for the two of you.

Written for @tarithenurse and her #Taris1Kchallenge

Warnings: torture, sacrifice, undertones of rape

Word Count: I am on a break. It feels good to just breathe without dreading the rest of the day. Why is work so punishing?

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

One single machine whirrs in this dull laundromat. The light above you flickers at intervals so regular you have already made a beat out of it. The only other sound distracting enough is some old music playing on the radio at the front desk where no one sits at this hour. And that fan that seems to be breathing its last over your head. "Yeah, it's unbelievably quiet here," you mentioned in a soft tone before looking around the empty space. "I guess I'm glad I only had to stop for three days here." "What? Are you not going to explore this place?" your friend, Zaira's voice crackles through the phone. You shrug despite knowing she cannot see you. "I don't know, Zai, this place gives me the creeps for some reason. I am only hanging around here because Prashant wants to revise the reports I sent him of the soil composition before he gives me a green light to leave this place." "Damn! That bad?" "Oh! You have no idea!" You look around once again. The front desk guy has just come back in his old Chevrolet and the clock has struck nine. "Zai," you whisper in the lowest tone possible, watching the man whistle as he gets out of his car without closing the door, "there are no kids in this village-slash-town." He walks to the back to open the trunk of his car, whistling a somewhat familiar tune. "That's...not haunting at all!" Zaira's sarcasm can be heard in her surprised tone. "Well, what's more haunting is the fact that the youngest person here is an eighteen-year-old boy who keeps showing up anywhere I go and keeps staring at me funny." The man shuts the hood with a loud thump and you can see a fresh bundle of store-bought rope, a baseball bat, a bottle of some chemical-probably for cleaning- and a pair of rubber gloves as he starts walking to the entrance. "Allah-" Zaira takes the Lord's name in surprise- "no wonder they have The Sacrifice playing somewhere there." The man sets everything on the front desk, still whistling the same tune, which you now come to realise is the song that is currently playing on the radio. "The...the what?"

"The thing playing in your background," Zaira comments, "it's playing on a two strong instrument with a looping chorus. It's a pagan ritual song that is sung by some orthodox communities that still present a sacrifice to their pagan gods. We learned this in the summer session for cult studies, boo. Oh, wait. You were back home that time. The chorus basically says 'here's your sacrifice, now pay my dues'." Not a word of what Zaira said is heard after the pagan ritual song because suddenly all the materials resting on the front desk are making sense. So is the creak of the back door that opens to let the only teenager of the town in. Your body is frozen in place, your mind has gone blank. One moment you are running for the exit. And the next, you are lying on the floor with the two men hovering over you while the song calling for your sacrifice slowly fades away. . It is the discomfort from the heat that wakes you up. The sweat and stickiness all over your body slowly registers in your brain that alerts of a throbbing ache at the back of your head with a bang. Everything is a blur for a few moments; till the lights morph into fire beacons and the sun transforms into a bonfire, the figures moving around you become humans with faces smeared in blood. Your clammy skin shines in the light of the bonfire, your hair sticking to any part of you. Tears are rolling down the edge of your eyes while your brain is registering this new pain altogether from the gag in your mouth. You try to move your hand to touch your skull where it hurts, but are unable to do so. My hands...I can't move them. Your dizzy brain gives your body the command again but in vain. "She's awake!" a raspy voice pierces through the air. And within a speck of a second, all the memories start rushing in. Y/N? Hello? Babe, can you hear me? Adrenaline shoots up in your system and your senses are heightened. The smell of kerosene is heavy in the air along with the crippling stench of burning flesh. You have been bound to a pole with your hands behind you, the bonfire in front of you, the forest surrounding you from every corner and the moonless sky on top of you. The faces in the fire are all familiar. The residents of this town, all staring at you while you struggle to get out of the ropes cutting through your skin, stop their movement to pick up the bowls kept in front of them and drink its contents. Your cries are muffled; partly because of the gag and partly because of the sobs that want to escape your throat just like your tears. Your already broken body jumps when the oldest woman in the group starts shouting phrases in a language unknown to you. And just as she begins, everyone around her takes out a dagger and starts moving in your direction. Your heartbeat seems to drop for a moment. They can see the horror in your eyes. But that does not stop their moments. The woman's chants grow heavier as her hand moments grow more vigorous. The youngest of them all skips a step or two to straight away jump on the platform where you are kept on display. He looks around once and turns to you to move your sweat laden hair strands away from your face. His pale fingers are cold, almost icy to the touch. "Don't worry, I'll get you out of here," he whispers close to your ears. Your sobs turn to sniffs to hear his words and look into his eyes. Those grey irises are trying to dig straight into your soul. "Trust me." Your instinct- which has never been wrong in your life- is already moving your leg to bend the knee and get his balls. And you do. Watching him writhe in pain for one long satisfying moment as he curses you from heaven to hell. But he gets back up, with the eyes of a madman ready to kill. You are crying out still, for anyone who will listen, in heaven or hell, as he takes you by your throat. The venom in his hold is enough to take your life. "The only way out-" he says close to your face- "is through, you cunt." One last prayer comes out of you as a whimper before you wait for his dagger to meet you. In the next heartbeat, everything turns white. . Everything is blinded by a white light. It does seem to be the end. Why did I have to die like this dammit?! A Buzzfeed Unsolved episode?! But something does not sit right. The white light should be the end, right? Then why can feel something wet under my h- Before you realise you are tumbling down the steepness of the forest. Your body can feel every rock and every pebble on the way down the seemingly endless slope. It seems like a long while when your limbs finally skid on flat rocky terrain, bringing the ringing pain to a halt before it can bounce all over your body a bit louder in the deafening silence. The first thing your senses do is look for any sign of danger around you. The forest is dark. And apparently different than the one you were in before. The trees are taller and with trunks that would not fit in your hugs. You cannot see their ends in the sky from where you lay. Not weird at all. The silence too sends your wounded heart into an anxious stir. Not even the cicadas speak here. Am I...dead? Now that definitely stirs something out there. A twig breaks in the distance. You pause your breath and shush your racing heart. A soft rustle of leaves can be heard somewhere that lets your sweat run cold all over the body. It is hard to breathe through the gag as it is, and you are standing nowhere near a hiding spot, making your basic instincts run wild with any shadow you see in this treacherous night. So all you do is stand as still as a trembling mouse and wait. And that wait isn't long. Call it nature's mysterious ways or just a random event happening at the right time, a cool breeze stirs the air for the first time in this place. From where you stand, the breeze hits your back, tickling those sweat beads on the nape of your neck before letting you smell the odour of blood it carries with it. All the neurons inside you make you turn around and face a familiar figure emerging from the shadows with a dagger in his hand. The basic instincts inside you are already making your body break into a run in the opposite direction. The rush of the flight instinct is overpowering all the injuries and you forget for a second that your hands are still tied behind you as you speed straight ahead. But that devil of a man is fast. He has already closed the distance and his hands are grabbing your hair, pushing you both to the ground. He presses you down with his body, not giving you any room to get up or free your limbs. But he does untie your gag before turning you around and holding your neck in a choke-hold. "Please, please, please..." Nothing else is coming out of you at this point; except for hot tears streaming down the side of your face. "Well," the bastard sighs, pressing down his pelvis on your abdomen while having the audacity to smirk when looking down at you, "we had to sacrifice a virgin. But surely it's going to work the same if I put that mouth to work." The dread of his words does not set in till his free hand reaches for the button on his pants to undo it. The more you try to push away from him, the tighter he grips your throat. Oh, Gods! Just let me die instead. He is halfway undoing his zipper when a sound cracks through the air. It almost sounds like a very quiet motor either just starting or just stopping. And the closer it gets, it starts taking the shape of a growl coming from the throat of an animal. The man is distracted now; looking for the source of the sound. Loosening his grip a bit, he turns around to let his vision get as far in the dark as it could to look for anything out of the ordinary. And while he is busy, it is you who notices its presence and choose not to make a sound. The man turns around to look right into red eyes gleaming at him from a distance of three inches, sending him jumping up and crawling back on the ground as far away from you as possible. Huge white canines visible even in this darkness are on display as this four-legged creature growls in your captor's direction. A twisted horn rests majestically on each side of its head. Paws as huge as a lion's, but claws twice as big and dark as the night are resting on either side of your shoulder. The fur seems dark and dense except for where pointed bones are protruding out on its back. The growl revving in this creature's throat is enough for the predator to crawl back further with his heart stuck in his throat. And before he can figure out what demonic hell this creature had walked out from, he comes to discover another wave of fear when he sees a shadow behind it in between two trees. That shadow seems human. Human enough at the very least until he thought he was hallucinating that figure with gleaming green eyes. "Wh-who's there?!" the man's voice starts in a scream ends up in a squeak. "Get that ugly dog away from here!" The 'ugly dog' shifts from your side to take a few steps towards the bastard, metaphorically pinning him in between the roots of the trees he was sweating in. "Hey!" he shouted again at the shadow, "can't you hear me?!" You sit up, watching the creature slowly ready itself for attack mode. Turning around, you too are able to see a figure. It looks tall and is evidently clad in something heavy. Is that a sword in his hand? But that sword is not as concerning as those illuminated green pupils. "You son of a bitch! Get the fuck out of here before I stab you and your filthy farm ani-" "Rífa hann í sundur," is all you hear in a low hum from that figure's end one second. The next, there are growls and blood-curdling screams emerging from behind you; haunting enough to make you jump and curl up where you sit but never move your eyes away from that shadow that still stands as still as a rock. Tears still fall from your eyes; your legs pulled as close to your chest as possible. The screams continue to come out for a long time...long enough for you to notice a snowflake fall on your knee. More snowflakes come after the first one. And once the screams die down, you feel something brush your hands, almost making your heart fall out, only to realise that creature standing right behind you nudging at your ropes to gnaw your hands out of them. The adrenaline rush has diluted now. The pain and exhaustion that comes with it now lie heavy in your bones. Your eyes cannot take it anymore. But they still want to see that figure which now takes the liberty to walk out of the shadows underneath the clear light of the nearest moon. Your body is ready to fall but the creature provides some support to your lifeless limbs. Its fur feels so good on your cheeks. And that pale face coming to a stop in front of you feels almost angelic. Those green eyes are looking at you with both concern and judgment but what your brain registers first is the moonlight falling on those otherworldly cheekbones framed with clean braids. You want to keep looking at that face for a few more minutes. But there is only so much your wounded body can take before everything is a blur. . You have already hit deep slumber when the God comes to stand before you. He gets down on his knees to get a close look at your face buried in the hound's face. "What do you think she's doing here, Agni?" Agni huffs and shifts enough to let the God have a better look at the face marred with wounds and bruises. A face that still looks so serene after putting up such a fight. The long pale fingers move those few strands of hair away that are blocking your features under the light of the moons. Calculations have already been done in that mind. What's left is to figure out whether to leave you here in the depth of the endless garden or... "Agni-" that voice commands with zero emotions, still studying your features- "call out for help. We are taking this one back to the camp."

#loki #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki fluff #loki smut #marvel fluff #marvel smut #mcu fluff #mcu smut #fluff #smut #fanfic #loki fanfic #loki series #into the thick of it #taris1kchallenge #tarithenurse

60 notes · View notes

fanfic-me-up · 4 years

Text

Best Part || Kaminari Denki x Reader

“When we wake up and then we make love, it makes me feel so nice” Best Part - H.E.R ft. Daniel Caesar

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+, morning sex, dom!Denki, praise kink

A/N: This is the first fic I’m releasing for my 1k follower event! Hope you enjoy! 😊 And shoutout to @unbreakableeiji for reading it over and reassuring me it’s not complete shit 😭

--------------------------------------------------

You wake to sunlight dotting your vision. Taking your time to stretch against the sheets, you think this is infinitely more peaceful than the brash alarm every other day of the week. You smile at your husband, asleep, and with a bit of drool slipping down his chin.

Sunday is the best day of the week; when you can sleep in and forget about the troubles of the outside world. The only way Sundays could be ruined is if your husband gets an emergency call from work. But, what can ya do? You signed up for the hectic pro-hero life the moment you said “I do.” This is why you vow to savor every moment with him. You slide the ring on your finger that’s lying on your bedside table, sparkling an iridescent yellow-gold.

Your eyes flicker to appreciate what you have, more like who you have; taking it all in before the moment passes and it’s onto the next one. Sunlight caresses his electric locks, bathing him in a golden aura; you trace the outline of the lightning bolt striking his bangs. You lean forward, softly rubbing your nose against his and his own twitching in response. His eyes remain closed, soft snores continuing to fill the room. You pout before a devilish glint takes your face. Reaching under the sheets, you palm Denki’s already half-hardened cock. It only takes a couple of strokes to stand at full attention. An alluring motif graces your ears in the form of a deep groan. Denki shifts beneath the sheets, allowing you a better grip, but you don’t give him what he wants.

“What are ya doin’ to me, baby girl?” Denki mumbles into the pillow.

“Whatever do you mean?” You bite your lip to conceal the smile threatening to break through.

Golden orbs shoot open.

“You know exactly what I mean,” he growls.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

You peck his lips, and when you pull away he makes sure to latch onto your bottom lip with his teeth, pulling you back in. You take your time languidly exploring each other’s mouths. Denki swipes his tongue across your lip and you open up for him, meeting him in a never-ending slow dance. It’s not long before he reaches down to circles his fingers lazily along your folds, juices flowing instantly at the touch. A breathless moan escapes you when he finds your clit, warming you up just right. You dig your foot into his hip, grinding against his fingers already drenched in your slick.

Denki stops his ministrations to show you the slick glistening his fingers, made even more obvious by the light. “Damn, baby girl, look how wet you are already and I’ve barely even touched you.” He brings a finger to his lips, eyes never leaving yours as his tongue swirls around the digit expertly. You flush at the inherent display of eroticism.

Hiding your face in the crook of his neck, you whine a muffled, “C’mon Denki…”

“No need to be shy, baby girl, it’s just you and me.”

“ ’m not shy…”

He breathes a quick laugh at how utterly untrue that is. “Then why don’t you come out of hiding?” You huff into his neck which he replies, “Please? For me?”

Crazy how he still manages to get you shy even though you’ve been married for five years and counting.

“You know,” he starts, “just because you can’t see me, doesn’t mean I can’t see you…” He shuffles awkwardly, “learned that from… ahem… personal experience…”

You twist your head so your eyes pop open to meet his. “Really?”

“There she is.” His eyes light up.

“Hey! I don’t appreciate being tricked,” you pout.

“Oh, I wasn’t lying. I used to hide behind poles thinking no one could see me.”

You don’t show a reaction of disbelief like a normal person would, already used to Denki and his… unique way of thinking.

“I was like… ten.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Okay, twelve. I was twelve. It made sense in my head, okay!?”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” you say.

He narrows his eyes, a dark look replacing his jovial one. “Turn around,” Denki commands, giving your ass a soft spank enough to make you jolt.

You know better than to argue.

He slides his cock against your folds, spreading your legs so the head rubs against your clit each time.

“Mmmm… baby…” you whimper. Denki elicits a soft gasp from you as he sucks at the sensitive spot on your neck. You’re dripping between your thighs, coating Denki’s cock enough that he could easily slip in.

“Lower your hips…fuck yeah… just like that,” he groans in appreciation, “good girl...”

The praise is not lost on you, body tingling at the approval.

Denki grips your hips, entering you from behind. You gasp at the delicious stretch; the right amount of pleasure and pain swirling in your nether regions. He takes his time sliding into you, making sure you feel every ridge of his thick cock, loving the way your walls clench around his girth.

You mewl at the absolute slowness, simultaneously loving and hating it. You dig your face into the covers as he rubs your pebbled nipple; and when he doesn’t move for a full minute, you wiggle your hips, desperate for just a fraction of the friction you were getting before.

“Shh… it’s okay. We got all the time in the world, baby girl.”

You bite your lip to keep from whimpering, but you’ve never been very good at keeping quiet. It’s rare for Denki to take things slow, it’s against his nature, and the one time you wanna take things fast, of course, he’d want to take his sweet time. Oh, the irony.

He plants a ray of kisses down your neck, and as much as you want to get on top and get this show on the road… you can tell he’s thoroughly enjoying the syrupy goodness of a Sunday morning. You twist your head to find a look of pure contentment on his face; you’d think he fell back asleep if it weren’t for the frustrating finger still toying with your nipple.

You thank the undeniable force that causes Denki to finally move. He does so slowly, not even thrusting properly all the way in and out. It’s a lazy rhythm of him slowly grinding his hips against yours. To make up for it, he slides his hand down to pay attention to your throbbing clit. It sets your body alight, an ignited spark ready to catch flame, setting fire to your entire being.

You moan his name, knowing that gets him going. As expected, he grunts in response, bucking his hips faster. He thrusts deep enough to hit the spot that makes you scream. “Ri-right there! Mmmm…fuck baby... right…” You close your eyes, surrendering yourself to the pleasure of Denki filling you up, of feeling whole, and to the heat squeezing you from the inside out, building and building and building...

“Yeah? Right. Here?” He punctuates with a hard thrust, mercilessly ripping a shout from your throat. “You like that, baby? You like me fucking you from behind like this? Filling you up so good you feel it for days?” He slaps your ass hard before palming gently.

“Say my name.” His voice ghosts the shell of your ear.

You only get the first syllable out before succumbing to the waves of pleasure wracking your body. Denki grabs you by the jaw, turning your face towards his. Your heart drums at the darkness shadowing his naturally light features. His eyes resemble a wicked golden-brown, only seen by you in these intimate moments.

Denki grips tighter, enough to display dominance, but not to actually hurt. “Say. It.” He’s thrusting just shy of the spot inside of you, and his fingers have stopped rubbing your clit, like he’s waiting for you to obey before giving you what you want.

You muster up the last of your breath to moan a soft, “Denki…”

He strokes your cheek, “Good girl.”

But the tender gesture is here just as it’s gone. Denki returns to the brutal thrusting and abuse of your clit. Your eyes roll back to the sudden onslaught of pleasure. This time he doesn’t stop until you’re on the brink, muscles tightening and sucking him in deeper than he thought possible. He groans at the tight heat engulfing the whole of his cock. It’s enough to hit him like a punch to the gut. He makes sure to sheath himself all the way in as he spills into you.

The satisfying warmth of Denki draining himself into you causes you to fall off the edge yourself. Denki continues to fuck into you (despite already finishing) helping you ride out your orgasm.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Denki praises as your body shakes from the strength of the orgasm. He stares in awe at the way your lashes flutter over your cheekbones, the way your body glows under the rising sun, the way you’re no longer in control, a nonsensical flow of words and moans streaming from your mouth. This is a release you need to start off your day, and Denki is more than happy to give you what you need. Denki makes sure you get off more than once, like fireworks setting off one after another, until you’re a writhing, oversensitive mess begging him to stop.

You both take a moment to catch your breath after your third and final orgasm. Denki’s still pressed against you, head tucked in the crook of your neck. You whimper when he pulls out, longing for him to stay, but also relieved to escape the blistering body heat.

Denki flops back to his side of the bed, completely sated, and an arm bent under his head. You curl up next to him (screw the body heat, you want cuddles!) as he wraps his other arm around you to stroke your back.

“Damn, babe, have I mentioned how much I love Sundays?” He looks down at you; his usual goofy smile returned.

“Oh, I don’t know, only a thousand times,” you smile. Not only has he said this in front of you, but the hero agency he works at also knows how much Denki loves Sundays and why he loves them, resulting in you and him getting into several long talks about oversharing and professionalism in the workplace. Uraraka assured you that he doesn’t go into explicit detail, mainly just gushing about how perfect you are, especially on Sundays “wink wink.” (Yep, you married a guy who actually uses the phrase “wink wink” instead of just winking.) You haven’t told Denki yet, but you secretly swoon. Despite your friends sending you joking texts on Sundays, Denki’s public displays of affection show he’s confident in his love for you, and you’d take that any day over someone who’s afraid or ashamed to be with you.

Grrrrrrrrrr

Your thoughts are interrupted by a stomach growl which isn’t yours. You raise an eyebrow at Denki who gives his best puppy-dog eyes. You already know what’s coming before he even opens his mouth.

“Pancakes?”

“Sounds good, babe, call me when they’re done.” You lay on your side with your back towards Denki, eyes closed like you’re going back to sleep. A minute passes before you hear shuffling and arms wrap around you.

“Please?”

You really shouldn’t give in. It’s settled that it's Denki’s turn to make breakfast this Sunday. Your mistake was looking back because you always find it hard to resist your husband’s tried and true puppy-dog eyes.

“Ugh. Fine.”

“Yessssss,” Denki hisses, a victory smile taking over as he makes himself more comfortable in bed.

You begrudgingly get out of bed when Denki sheepishly adds, “With chocolate chips?”

You grumble in agreeance, almost out the door when you’re stopped again.

“And whipped cream?”

“Don’t push it.”

“Sorry.”

He sinks into the covers all dejected that you can’t help but give in.

You’re in the middle of flipping a pancake while humming along to your favorite song when excited footsteps pitter patter across the kitchen floor.

“Looks good, hun, pancakes are for sure the best part of lazy Sundays!” Denki rubs his hands together, tongue swiping over his lips.

Uhm… did your husband really just rank pancakes over you?

“Excuse me? What about the mindblowing sex we just had, huh? Or the fact that you wouldn’t even have pancakes if it weren't for me?” You cross your arms to stop yourself from whacking your husband with the spatula currently in your hand.

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you from behind, “You’re absolutely right.”

“I am?”

You’re taken aback. Usually, Denki would either run away or play along with your play fights so this tenderness is unexpected.

“Of course,” he kisses your temple, “You’re the best part. Forever and always.”

#kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #kaminari denki smut #bnha x reader #bnhabookclub #mha x reader #bnha smut #kaminari denki #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari denki imagine #bnha imagine #mha imagine #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic

665 notes · View notes

need-a-fugue · 3 years

Text

Trustworthy (Chapter One)

Summary: You’ve spent the last three years teaming up with Santiago Garcia on every mission you had a hand in coordinating... and the past several months plotting with him to take down the biggest bad to hit your radar. But even all your time at the DEA and all your experience in the field couldn’t have prepared you for this.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader (slowburn)

Warnings: Character death, many naughty words, and soooo much angst

A/N: It would seem that my newfound Pedro Pascal obsession isn’t going to let up any time soon, so I decided to just dive headfirst into some Frankie-heavy Triple Frontier fic. It doesn’t help that @tweedlydumbtweedlydoo planted a seed (quite a while ago) by asking for a story where reader breaks down on that fateful mission only to be comforted by our favorite Fish. I um... may have taken that a little far and now there’s this whole multi-chapter thing happening...

Here’s the thing… you’ve been in shit before. You’ve been shot at, even took a bullet yourself not too long ago. You’ve seen people die – some bad, some good, some deserving, some not. You held your own partner in your arms, desperately trying to stanch the flow of blood from his shorn neck before finally letting him go after he expelled one final, wet breath. You’ve killed people – a sicario outside of Bogota, two – possibly three – gang members in a shootout in Albuquerque, some dumb kid who’d been given a little bit of cash to stand guard outside a lab in Juarez.

You’ve seen tragedy, felt it, lived it, dreamed about it on an endless loop, even in your waking hours. You’ve caused it – or so you’d been told by the weeping mother of the boy in Mexico. You’ve denied it, denied that what had happened was actually tragic at all. Denied it to survive.

But you can’t deny what you’re in right now, the tragedy of having a plan go to shit in too many ways to count. The tragedy of nearly succumbing to your absolute worst fear in the world and going down in a sputtering damn helicopter. The tragedy of more lives being taken, even those of fucking Lorea and his men causing a reluctant burn at the back of your throat. Because you can’t stop seeing his children arriving home to find their worst nightmare laid out in blood and smoke, flames licking round all they’ve ever known and loved.

Children. Tom has children too. Had. Tom, who’s now being carried down the side of a mountain in a makeshift body bag, haphazardly descending with his men by his side… just ahead of you, just in your line of sight. Still leading the way, even in death.

Maybe that’s why this feels so different. This particular tragedy. Because you’re still in it. You can’t walk away and deny, shower the telling grime from your skin, bury the reality of death and failure and fear beneath a six pack of beer and a shitty TV dinner alone in your dark apartment.

And, oh, your apartment… or any apartment really, as you’re not exactly likely to return to your post in Colombia after all this. To go anywhere right now with heat and running water… and a bed. Your mind reels just thinking about it.

Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s just because you haven’t slept in days… many days. Haven’t eaten much either, each and every MRE and stale protein bar sitting heavy in your throat, choking, suffocating, blocking your breaths and words alike.

“You gotta eat,” Frankie had said to you just this morning, whispered in your ear as you carefully picked your way over and around the sharp, loose rocks in your path. “We gotta keep moving,” he muttered, the deep hum of his voice sounding less like the balm you’d come to know and more like just another resonance caught up in the icy, bitter wind. He had pressed a bar to your palm, his hand warm despite the surrounding cold, and a forced lightness filled his tone as he declared, “Need your strength or we won’t make it to the coast.”

You hadn’t even looked up to meet his gaze, instead continuing forward, glare directed down at the treacherous ground beneath your feet. “I don't really see that happening anyway,” you said as you shoved the bar deep into your pocket.

His stride halted then, leaving him standing tall and motionless as you swept idly past. But his pause was enough to make you falter, to make you turn and glance back up at him. You hadn’t even realized what you said – not really, not fully – until you took in the look on his face. That was enough – the sadness, the grief, the guilt that clouded his eyes and pinched his lips – to make you retrieve the bar from your pocket and choke down the whole damn thing in two monstrous bites.

Maybe it’s that. That look Frankie had given you just as the sun began to rise. The same look that sits on the faces of the other men even now, hangs heavily on them as they soldier on, carrying not only the load of money, but the body of their friend.

Maybe it’s being here with them as they move with purpose and the kind of fluidity that comes from too many years of practice. Practice at navigating dangerous situations. Practice at steering away from the fear and pain, sorrow and guilt that stare them right in the face, all to ensure they might survive the day.

Maybe it’s watching them move through that horrid fog that – you know – anyone else would so easily get lost in. All while reluctantly admitting, if only to yourself, that it’s the same fog you’ve been unable to effectively cut through for days.

Maybe that’s what has you feeling like you’re walking a tightrope balanced precariously between an understandable sort of disappointment and dread… and a overwhelming, blinding despair. Maybe this feels different because it isn’t just yourself you’d need escape to gain distance from this tragedy. It’s all of them as well. And you can’t very well escape the very men you need to help you through.

They climb the mountainside, traversing rocks and heaps of remaining snow that never fail to send you slipping and careening. They catch you as you slide, helping you along as they hoist bag after bag – your own contribution of carrying just your pack and one duffel seeming paltry in comparison – up and then down the stony inclines. They hand you off with care, always keeping you close, making sure that if one of them moves ahead, another is still left by your side. They carry you almost as much as they carry the money. As much as they carry Tom.

Tom. You’d only known him a handful of days… weeks? How long ago was it that you followed Santiago back to the States to meet his reinforcements? At this point, you no longer have a clue when this whole fucking mess began. A lifetime ago at least. It seems as though you’ve known these men for an entire lifetime on top of that.

Tom. Well, he’s arguably the one you got to know least. And not just because he’s been dead for… however long it’s been now. No. He was just… quiet. Reserved. Distrustful, truth be told. But, hell, you could hardly blame him for that. After all, he was considered the leader of these men. The one tasked – above all others – with getting them in and out safely. The one who would wear the most blood on his hands should any of them fall.

And from the loyalty the others showed – and the stories they shared in both forced low tones and laughter-pocked croons – you could tell that he was a good leader. A trusted leader. A loved leader. And nothing he did on this mission was ever going to change that in the eyes of anyone here.

No, you hadn’t gotten to know him well. But damn if it didn’t still hurt to see him go. To peer over Ben’s shoulder – bent and broken and wracked with sobs – and into Tom’s empty, lifeless eyes all those days ago. So damn many days ago. To watch the brothers fight over the top of his body, sidestepping his corpse to throttle each other and throw blame to lessen the grief. To sit with Benny for the hour or so after – after helping him wrap up his friend with care – as his uncharacteristic silence slinked about you both in a smothering cloud of despair.

Ben, who had been the most jovial and talkative and… bright of all. He had quite literally welcomed you into the fold with open arms, a bit drunk and a bit concussed from a fight he insisted he won just hours before meeting you. He refused your handshake when Garcia introduced you, leaning in to envelope you in a tight hug instead, and then demanding to buy you a drink, despite the fact that you’d been nursing one while waiting for them to arrive. “Pretty lady like you shouldn’t ever have to shell out her own money for a drink,” he’d said with a grin and a wink.

You might’ve rolled your eyes, might’ve told him, pass amid a chiding glare. But before you could say a word, his brother smacked him upside the head, giving a disappointed eyeroll that would’ve outdone yours tenfold, and held out a hand to shake, a deep-tenor, “Don’t mind him, and nice to meet you,” putting you immediately at ease and making it utterly clear who the Miller brothers were. Will was the politic adult, professional and well-mannered. And Benny was simply a ball full of harmless fun.

Until now, that is. Now – you can see even as his slumped body fades away into the tree line below – Ben has become little more than sorrow and sinew.

A crunching tumble of pebbles sounds suddenly in your periphery, tearing you from your spiraling thoughts. You look up to see Santiago looming to your right, effectively blocking the sliver of sunlight that remains peeking through the dusk-hued sky. “You okay, bonita?” he asks, the tone of his voice and wrinkle to his brow as he looks down at you serving to snap you back to the here and now. Here. Now. Shivering in the cold as the four of you settle in on the side of some damn mountain, having just bid farewell to yet another member of your party.

Your gaze falls from his face almost as quickly as it had jerked up to meet it just a breath of a moment ago. You shake your head and let out a sigh. “I should’ve gone with him,” you utter simply. “I thought you’d been joking about how bad his Spanish was, but…”

He snorts out a laugh, and the corner of your mouth raises in a slight, crooked smile. “Yeah, well,” he starts, dropping down to take a seat on the hard earth beside you. “With how well you’ve been hiking through these hills, he’d probably have ended up carrying you like a backpack.” He gives you a shit-eating grin, teasing brow raised high. “We’re hoping to get out of here sometime this decade. Don’t need your ass slowing us down any more.”

“Asshole,” you mutter, the taunting cadence just barely cutting through the deep rumble of his laugh.

His hand falls to your knee, palm sliding side to side in a comforting stroke before he tightens his fingers over your patella and gives you a bit of a shake. “I’m only kidding,” he states, as though you didn’t already know. “You’ve been doing great. Really.”

You issue out a quick snort, a thick, incredulous breath kicking a puff of steam up into the frigid air.

“I mean it,” he tells you, turning a serious glance your way. “I know this isn’t what you signed up for.”

“It’s not what any of us signed up for,” you interrupt pointedly.

“Yeah. But… DEA doesn’t exactly train people the same as us,” he intones, giving a nod towards the other men. “I know you’ve never been… exposed to this kind of shit.”

You wrinkle your nose and squint as you turn to look up at the mountain you’d just somehow managed to traverse. “Yeah. This has been some shit.”

He lets out another small laugh – short and fleeting – before pulling his hand from your knee and settling into the silence surrounding you. Ahead, Frankie and Will build up a rock barrier around Tom’s body, a protective cocoon for the night lest any animals come by. You’d all noticed – especially today as the sun came out in the afternoon and beat heavily down on your backs – that he’d begun to rot. To smell. And as much as everyone wanted to still hold him close, no one really wanted his steadily decaying body stinking at their sides as they attempted to sleep tonight.

Once they’re done with their makeshift mausoleum, the two men move across the way and begin digging through their packs for food. “Frankie mentioned that you hadn’t been eating,” Santi mutters from your right as both of your eyes remain trained on the men working before you.

You shrug. “I’ve eaten as much as anyone else.”

A tiny chuckle ripples through him, drawing a confused glare from you. And his smile only widens when he sees the uncertainty painted across your face. “He likes you, bonita,” he singsongs, giving your shoulder a little shove. Then, grin swiftly fading away to nothing, he rather distractedly declares, “He’s worried about you.”

Your brow furrows a bit, stare honing in on the broad-shouldered man now falling into shadow. The man you’d only just begun to know and yet somehow felt eerily connected to. Another sigh escapes your lips, shoulders slumping as you avert your eyes, looking instead to the dark tree line far below. “I’m worried about all of us.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out with a solemn nod. “Yeah. Me too.”

It hits you then… as you feel Santi slouch heavily beside you, a heady silence permeating the miniscule space between you. And as you turn back in time to see Will grimace and clutch his side, giving into the pain of a days-old gunshot wound for just a breath of a moment, all that he’ll allow himself to take. And as you watch Frankie remove his hat and wipe the sweat from his brow – despite the temperature already plummeting around you thanks to the nearly set sun – all while he stares solemnly over at the rotting, rock-covered corpse of one of his oldest friends.

You know why this feels different from any other tragedy you’d suffered in the past, any other bad op or mission gone wrong you’d ever endured. It feels different because this… this is all your fault.

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #santiago pope garcia #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x you #will miller #benny miller

94 notes · View notes

channiebbang · 3 years

Text

little cupid

synopsis: where a little boy helps his dad get a new girlfriend so he’s not lonely anymore. And because he doesn’t want to get bothered by his old man.

characters: Jaebeom, Bambam, Main Character

pairing: Dad!Jaebeom x badass/police officer!maincharacter

genre: fluff, comedy

word count: 3.5k

warnings: none apart from the kid being a cutie so you might get diabetes

author’s note: i had so much fun writing this heh let me know what you think about it and what you don’t like. enjoy! 💛

"What are you doing?"

The girl sprawled on the grass took a deep breath, kind of annoyed someone disturbed her. She brought a hand in front of her eyes, shielding them from the blinding sun as she opened one eye and looked at the voice above her.

A kid. It was a kid. He was leaned down with his hands resting on his knees. She sighed.

"What do you want kid?" She asked, voice monotone. She sat up slowly, knees bent and heels planted on the grass. She rested her hands behind her and leaned back.

"Why are you lying down? It's so sunny," the kid asked again and she turned her head to look at him.

He was an adorable kid, no doubt on that. But he had a blank stare, which is not that expected from a child. Y/n found that look all too familiar, a reminder of her childhood.

"How old are you?" She asked scoffing, not answering his question. The kid straightened up.

"Five," he said without hesitation. She nodded, eyebrows raised high on her forehead.

"You act older," she said throwing a look at him. He shrugged.

"You look old, so it's not a big deal. All the other kids are dumb," he deadpanned and she blinked at him, speechless.

"Yah, be kinder," she scolded. He muttered a sorry.

"Where are your parents anyway?" She asked looking around in hopes of seeing someone looking for a kid.

"I dunno, somewhere," she heard the boy say and she never thought she'd turn around that quick because she almost broke her neck.

"What do you mean somewhere, how did you get here? What kind of parents lets their child out of their sight," she grumbled the last part slowly rising to her feet and wiping the back of her thighs.

"I like your pants," the boy pointed at her black, high waisted cargo pants, she looked down at them and then back to him.

"Oh, thanks. I guess yours look nice too," she awkwardly said. The boy snorted.

"You think Spiderman shorts are nice?" He giggled and y/n thought that that was the first sign he gave in the last fifteen minutes that he's a child. He sure talked like a grown up.

"Sure, I always wanted to wear them when I was little, but I never could," she shrugged stretching her arms above her head, then adjusted the crop tank top she wore. The hot summer sun almost scorching her skin.

"Why?" The boy asked as he walked beside her when she started walking. She threw him a glance, contemplating if she should tell him off.

It's better if he's with me than some creep on the streets, she thought.

"Because I'm a girl," she said sighing. She never liked her childhood, sure there were good memories but she barely remembered anything and the bad memories were far more than the good ones.

"Jaebeom said that's a load of crap, he told me I could do whatever I wanted as long as I was happy," the boy said, eyes trained on the ground as he kicked a pebble. He had to run to catch up with her a couple of times so after the third time he just grasped her hand and walked beside her.

Y/n looked down at the sudden small fingers grasping her hand. She hated kids, she never liked them. This one though, she saw a lot of herself in him and she just couldn't bring herself to dislike him.

She took a deep breath and grasped his hand back, slowing down her pace a bit.

"First of all you shouldn't say those words and second, who's Jaebeom?" She asked as she pushed the door of the caffee shop open letting the boy walk in first.

They were greeted by a waiter that escorted them to a table by the window.

Y/n ordered two milkshakes for the both of them after making sure the boy wasn't allergic to anything.

"So, who's Jaebeom?" She asked again.

"My dad," the boy shrugged and Y/n stared at him for a moment.

"Why do you call him Jaebeom?" She asked, not knowing if the kid was gonna get offended.

She kept forgetting she was talking to a five year old, he talked and acted like a grown up. She wanted to know why.

"Well, that's his name," the boy said in an obvious tone.

"I meant why not call him dad," y/n rolled her eyes. The waiter brought their order and she thanked them, the little kid following in her steps.

"Is it okay if I stand on the seat? I can't reach the straw," the boy asked, his eyes wide as he spoke to y/n. She shrugged impressed by his manners.

"Go for it, just don't fall," she warned him, the boy nodded.

"I've known him for a short while, I don't want to call him dad," the boy spoke after taking a sip of his milkshake. A soft smile graced his lips as he tasted the sweet drink and y/n couldn't help but smile too.

"Fair enough," she spoke nodding.

"Isn't he going to worry that you're not with him?" She asked him after a short while, the boy shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess," he spoke nonchalantly.

"Where did you even leave him?" She asked curious about the boy's situation.

"Somewhere in the park. A lady screamed at me so I went off," he explained.

"Why did she scream at you?" Y/n asked. She took a tissue from the middle of the table and signaled the boy to lean forward. She wiped at the whipped cream speared on his cheek before he leaned back taking another sip of the drink.

"She's convinced I intentionally got Seongjae hurt," the boy said, a frown edged on his lips.

"Did you?" She asked calmly, the boy shook his head.

"No, I didn't! She's always trying to get me in trouble, and besides, Seongjae is my best friend, why would I hurt him," the boy pushed away the glass and sat back on his seat, his lips turned down in a sad frown.

Y/n leaned a bit closer, very interested in this crazy bitch of a woman. A sense of protectiveness washing up on her.

"Why is she always trying to get you into trouble?" She asked slowly, the boy looked up at her.

"She said it's my fault my mom is not with me, and kids without moms are the ones who turn into little punks up to no good," he whispered.

Y/n saw how he tried to not show he was hurt, how he shrugged his shoulders and tried to pretend it didn't bother him. But she was pissed.

"Are you done?" She asked pointing at the glass in front of him, changing the subject, the boy nodded.

"Thank you for the treat," he politely said, bowing his head. Y/n smiled and reached over to ruffle his hair.

"It's alright, kiddo," she spoke smiling warmly at him and he nodded smiling in return.

They were back at the park, walking in silence. They were looking for Jaebeom.

"This is where you were?" She asked when they stopped a couple of meters away from the playground. She looked around, not sure who she was looking for.

"Yup, right here," he confirmed looking around too, hand still clasped in Y/n's.

"What's your name? You didn't tell me," she asked after a while, looking down at him.

"Jongsu, what's yours?" The boy asked, a hand over his eyes as he looked up at her. She smile reaching in her back and pulling a baseball cap out. She crouched in front of him, and after tightening the belt so it would fit him, she pulled it down his eyes.

"Y/n," she simply told him. The boy reached up to adjust the cap to lay snug around his head.

"Thank you," he muttered, she nodded petting his head.

A shrill screech brought their attention to a woman in the distance hastily walking up to them.

Y/n, still crouched beside the boy, furrowed her brows.

"What's up with that pterodactyl?" She asked to nobody in particular. The small boy gasped, hand reaching out to grasp her crop top.

"That's the lady, Seongjae's mommy. I thought they would've left by now," he muttered, and y/n turned to look at him, an annoyed and tensed expression on his soft face.

The boy turned to her all of a sudden, eyes wide.

"You could tell her you're my mom!" He gasped and y/n's eyes widened the size of saucers.

"What? No!" She whisper yelled, Jongsu pouted, a sad look in his eyes.

"Why? Just for now, she's so mean," he protested, y/n sighed.

"That's not how it works, kiddo. I'll leave today, she's gonna meet you again and what happens when she asks about me again, hm?" She calmly spoke to him, trying to make him understand. He nodded, eyes casted down as she rose to her feet when the woman stopped in front of them. she held Jongsu's hand tightly.

On the other end of the playground a frantic looking Jaebeom stopped, checking again near the playground. It would be his fifth time. He had been running around the park for the last hour. Somewhere in the middle he had called Bambam, the thai friend was making rounds with his car, checking the surrounding area for his favorite, and only, nephew.

The silver haired man cursed his friend. How do you lose your damn son, JB. The guy already doesn't like you, dammit, he cursed again eyes shifting here and there.

Jaebeom ran both his hands through his freshly cut hair. His face was flushed by all the running he had done. He had been calling his son's name for so long.

His eyes stung, chest tightening, and damn he was always very concerned about not showing his weakness but, god, how could he lose his own fucking son.

The thought of the boy being somewhere, all alone, had him choke back a sob bubbling up his throat. A scoff leaving his lips as his eyes trained to the field, his back facing the playground.

He just got his son back, he was still trying to gain his trust and look what he did. He fucking lost him. How does a parent do that. He was useless.

He leaned down, hands pressed to his knees, he tried to breathe but he couldn't. A dry sob escaped his lips at the thought of not being able to see his son anymore. He knew he was hyperventilating but he just couldn't stop panicking.

He tried to calm himself down when he heard his phone ringing. He took deep breaths quickly picking up, in hopes Bambam found his boy. His voice quivered when he spoke.

"Bam, anything?" He spoke, gasping for air. And Bambam felt like shit hearing his friend's panicked voice.

"Not yet, I'm still looking, hyung. Don't worry we'll find him, he's a smart kid, he's probably asking for help to someone right now," Bambam tried to reassure his friend, ignoring his own bubble of panic rising. He didn't lie when he said Jongsu is smart, he really was. But he was still just a kid.

"Wha-what if it's someone bad, Bam? What if he asked help to the wrong person? What if- what if something, oh my god, Bam I'm the worst dad ever," another sob left him as he finally let the tears down. His shoulders shook.

Bambam felt his own eyes sting as he impatiently waited for the red light to turn green.

"Hyung, you have to calm down. I'm checking around again, I'll check on the east exit too, maybe he tried going back home, don't worry. Try checking the playground. You have to calm down for him," Bambam cleared his throat, deciding he had to be the one to calm his friend down. He heard Jaebeom take a couple of deep breaths.

"Okay, let me know as soon as you-" a distant shriek he recognized as Seongjae's mother, cut him off. He turned around, phone still pressed to his ear. He craned his neck trying to see on the other end of the playground.

Spiderman shorts caught his eyes as a small boy stood in front of the crazed woman, hand grasping another woman's hand.

"He's here, Bam he's here, oh my gosh," Jaebeom gasped, his voice letting out a relieved sigh as he smiled big.

Bambam let out a relieved sigh too, letting his head hit the headrest behind before quickly jolting up when he remembered he was driving.

"Okay, I'll reach over now, I almost swerved on the other lane," he hurriedly muttered hanging up.

Jaebeom pocketed his phone, quickly walking around the edge of the playground to reach the entrance.

On the other hand the two women were going off at each other.

Y/n tried to be civil at first, trying to explain how Jongsu didn't intentionally hurt Seongjae, even the other boy claiming he got hurt while playing by himself. The older woman wouldn't listen though, constantly trying to blame little Jongsu.

She was in the middle of saying something again when y/n interrupted her.

"Listen here, old hag. If you blame my kid, one more time, so help me god, I will shove that manicure nail up where the sun doesn't shine," y/n threatened in a low tone, eyes fierce and glaring.

Seongjae and Jongsu stared up at the two women.

"Your kid? Old hag? How dare you? This little rascal hurt my Seongie. It's because of the absence of a mother," she scoffed, throwing a nasty glare at the little boy, "he didn't get taught how to be civil," she continued, and

y/n rolled her eyes annoyed.

"And who are you, anyway?" The woman asked again with a nasty tone.

"You, nasty woman, are talking bad about my own kid and don't know who I am? Funny, bitch," y/n spat, not being able to keep the insult at bay. The boys and the woman gasped.

Jaebeom, now stood a couple of feet away, just listened in on the conversation. He knew Seongjae's mom had been bullying his kid. He had told the woman to let him be on multiple occasions. Jaebeom knew her kid and Jongsu were buddies and as much as he didn't like the woman he didn't want to harm the little boy's friendship.

"Woah Jongsu, your mom's a badass," Seongjae whispered at his friend, eyes wide in fascination. Jongsu on the other hand was beaming like never before.

"I know," the little boy giggled.

"How dare you? I'm going to call the police, calling me names, hurting my child. I'm going to report you," the older woman screeched and y/n rolled her eyes.

"Yeah? For what?" She taunted the woman.

"Child abuse! Your child hurt mine!" The woman screamed. Y/n nodded mockingly.

She reached in her back pocket and brought out what seemed to be a wallet. She opened it and shoved it to the woman in front of her.

"Go ahead, make your report, I'm listening," she mocked her, waving her police badge at the other's face. The woman gaped at her like a goldfish.

"I could arrest you right now for bullying a minor, and let me tell you that's so much worse than 'your child hurt my child'," she said again, pocketing her badge.

The older woman blabbed some incoherent words before grabbing her kids hand and quickly leaving. Seongjae waved at Jongsu behind his mom, and the boy waved back.

"I think she won't annoy you anytime soon," y/n muttered patting Jongsu's head, the boy nodded grinning.

"Thank you," he politely said and y/n gave him a thumbs up.

"So, where do we look for Jaebeom?" She asked the boy, looking around again.

"That's him," the boy said, she looked down at the boy to see him staring behind them so she turned around.

"Woah, he's hot," y/n muttered and the boy snorted watching his dad jog over.

"There's drool on your chin," Jongsu teased her, she quickly swiped at her chin before she mocked the little boy when she felt nothing.

"Jongsu! Never do that again!" The man fell to his knees in front of the boy and quickly wrapped his arms around his, squeezing him to his chest. His lips pressed to the boys hair.

"I was so worried, I'm so sorry," he kept saying, apologizing over and over again. He grasped the boys face in his hands before pressing a kiss to his forehead. Jongsu might've been a kid but he was too mature for his own good, so he didn't miss the glossiness in his father's eyes or the redness.

"I shouldn't have run," he admitted nodding, before pointing at the girl standing beside them.

"I was with her though," he said and Jaebeom turned to the girl. She raised a hand, waving.

"What's up," she nonchalantly said, Jaebeom nodded.

"Thank you for looking after him," he said sincerely and y/n nodded, an awkward smile on her lips.

"Well, he didn't really need my help, he's a smart kid. I'll see you around, kiddo," she pinched Jongsu's cheek soflty and the boy nodded smiling. A smile Jaebeom was seeing for the first time on his face.

When y/n turned away Jaebeom didn't miss a second before picking the boy up and squeezing him in his arms again.

"Gosh, I was so worried I even called uncle Bam, he should be here any moment," the man rambled while the boy stared at him like he just sprouted a third head.

"What are you doing?!" He softly yelled, Jaebeom looked at him confused, humming questioningly.

"Ask for her number, she's pretty!" The boy whisper yelled, Jaebeom turned to see the girl a couple of meters away.

"What?" He asked dumbly. The boy groaned and turned towards y/n, his hands cupping around his mouth.

"Y/n!" He called her as loudly as he could, they saw her flinch before turning around, brows furrowed as she tried to make up their faces. The boy gestured for her to go back and she slowly did, a curious expression on her face.

"What are you doing?" Jaebeom murmured in the boy's ear.

"Asking for her number because you're too much of a coward," the boy giggled at his father's offended expression. The man went to say something but stopped when the girl stood in front of them.

"What?" She asked.

"My dad wants your number," the boy said confidently and Jaebeom didn't know if he should panic or be proud.

Panic because his five year old was trying to pick up a girl for him and proud because it was the first time he had addressed him as his father.

"And why isn't your dad asking for it?" Y/n asked, a smug smile on her lips. Jaebeom looked at her and then back to his kid muttering a stop it to him.

"Because he's shy," Jongsu was having too much fun and it was clear as day on his face, y/n found this adorable.

Jaebeom on the other hand was embarassed.

"I'm so sorry, he's just a kid, he doesn't know what he's saying," he apologized, y/n nodded before holding out her palm, Jaebeom looked down at her hand, confused.

"She's asking for you phone, give it," Jongsu whispered in his ear and Jaebeom cleared his throat before reaching in his pocket, and after unlocking the device, he handed it over.

Y/n snorted at his awkwardness, far worse than hers, and she was awkward awkward.

She handed him back his phone.

"Well, I'll take my leave now," she smiled again, and Jongsu waved his hand after giving her a smile. Jaebeom smiled, lips sealed tight.

As soon as she was out of sight a disheveled Bambam stopped beside them, breathing heavily.

"Uncle Bam!" Jongsu screamed, throwing his arms around the man's neck, Bambam quickly wrapping his arms around the boy.

"Ayy what's up, champ. You gave us quite the scare," he tickled the boy in the tummy, Jongsu giggled resting his head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. On another note, I got Jaebommie a pretty girl's number," he blabbed to his favorite uncle as the duo and his father walked to Bambam's car.

Jaebeom smiled at the nickname his son called him, it was far better than being called Jaebeom-ssi.

"Did you now? How did that happen? Your dad hasn't got the charms to woo any girl," Bambam gasped snickering, the small boy giggling too.

"hEy!" Jaebeom called offended, his voice cracking, sending Bambam in a fit of laughter.

"It's because I'm cute," the boy cackled loudly as Bambam seated him in the car seat, buckling him up before sitting behind the wheel. Jaebeom sat in the passenger seat. A smile on his lips as for the first time Jongsu seemed to have actually had some fun in the park.

He looked in the mirror to see his son's smiling face and thought back at the girl he was with. He had to thank her somehow, so that's what he kept thinking about while the boy excitedly told the two men about his time with the pretty girl y/n.

64 notes · View notes

writerbynight · 2 years

Text

Febuwhump Day 1: Head Wound

Content: Drowning, concussion, cold, heights, CPR, blood mention

Masterpost | Febuwhump 2022 Prompts

Delmar leaned her head back to bask in the warm light of the setting sun. The heat was a welcome contrast from the cold ushered in by the wind whipping through her thick black hair, wet and matted with salt water. She breathed in the scent of the ocean below the cliff’s edge, enjoying this moment of peace, before returning her attention to the shells and rocks lined up on the ground in front of her: spoils from her freediving session with her brother earlier. After freediving all day, the two siblings drove to their favorite clifftop to recover. Now Delmar selected each of her treasures and tossed them around in her dark hands, paying special attention to the smooth surfaces of the pebbles and the satisfying ridges on the shells. While Delmar took the moment to relax in the golden sunset, her brother Beau wass still full of energy and excitement as usual. He paced around, picking up sun bleached rocks and tossing them into the sea below, the sound of their final splashes muted by the raging wind and the crashing waves. Unlike Delmar, who had changed into dry clothes over her swimsuit, Beau was still wearing his wetsuit. Delmar had a feeling she knew why.

“Let’s go cliff jumping, Del!” Beau said excitedly, confirming Delmar’s suspicions.

“No, Beau,” she replied. “We’re both tired and it’s freezing out here. And it’s starting to get dark.”

“You’re no fun,” Beau complained. “What’s one jump? One last dip before we head home for the night?”

Delmar chuckled. “Not all of us have endless energy, unlike you,” she said. “Plus I’ve already taken off my wetsuit and I’ve dried off. I’m not about to get my ass all cold and wet again.”

“Fine then,” Beau sighed. “I’ll just go by myself.”

Delmar noticed that he didn’t approach the cliff’s edge just yet, but returned to the truck to grab his goggles first. She cocked her head. “I hope you’re not planning to go diving in those caves, Beau,” she said. Beau rolled his eyes at her, but didn’t respond. He quickened his pace to the edge of the cliff.

“We’re not trained to go cave diving,” Delmar continued, raising her voice over the wind. “Especially not in the dark. You could seriously get hurt!”

“Damn, relax Del!” Beau shouted back. “Can’t I just bring my goggles because I want to? I’m not going in the caves, and I’m not going to get hurt!”

Delmar rolled her eyes as her brother jumped with a “whoop!” She didn’t believe for one second that Beau wasn’t going to swim through at least one of those caves. He was always looking for thrills and danger; it seemed to Delmar that Beau thought he was immortal. She was afraid that would catch up to him one day. So she counted the seconds as they went by, just like she did while she was diving herself. After two minutes passed, she huffed in annoyance and jumped to her feet, walking to the edge of the cliff to see if her brother was on his way back up yet. But she didn’t see him at all.

Another minute passed. Delmar’s brows knit together with concern, but three minutes wasn’t that long for her brother to be under the water. She knew from freediving with him that he usually averaged about four minutes without coming up for air – one minute less than herself, a point of pride for her and joking contention between the two of them. By now Delmar was pretty certain that Beau had gone exploring in the caves. She rehearsed her chastisements in her head for when he returned. What were you thinking? You know cave diving is dangerous without proper training! Especially with the sun setting! Oh, you think it’s no big deal? Well in that case I guess you won’t care if I tell mom…

Four minutes. Delmar put a finger down for each passing minute, just like she always did to keep track of the passing time while she was underwater. She searched for any sign of her brother emerging from the water, but between the crashing waves of the rising tide and the encroaching darkness as the sun continued to set, it was seriously getting hard to see. She shouted his name down to the water below, but it was no use. The waves and the wind were too loud, and even if he had heard there was no way she would be able to hear his call back.

Five minutes. Delmar had no more fingers to put down on her left hand. It was officially too long for Beau to be down there. There was still no sign of him resurfacing. Shit. Delmar needed to make a decision, and quick. If she called the authorities they would take too long to get all the way out here, if she managed to get any cell service at all. Her heart pounded against her sternum, slowly catching up with the pace of the seconds passing in her head. Delmar knew what she needed to do. Without wasting any additional seconds, she yanked off her dry clothes and tossed them to the ground. There was no time to pull her wetsuit back on. Bracing herself for the cold, she gripped a pair of goggles tightly in her hand and lept into the icy, dark water. I can hold my breath for five minutes.

Six minutes. Cold darkness wrapped around Delmar’s body, taking the breath out of her lungs. She paddled to the surface, careful not to let the angry waves push her against the rocky cliff side. She pulled her goggles over her head, exhaled everything she had, and sucked down as much air as her body would fit. With that, she once again plunged into the abyss, kicking her legs furiously and looking for any sign of Beau. But it was already so dark, even darker in the water. She wished she had a flashlight or anything to help her out.

Seven minutes. Delmar was still counting. She had been under for two minutes – still no sign of Beau. Then she spotted a cave. Her heart sank. Beau must have gone into a cave, but there were so many down here, possibly hundreds. She would only have time to check one. But even if he was in this one, Delmar wasn’t any more qualified for cave diving than her brother. It was dangerous to do such a thing, especially in the dark, and it was only getting darker. Every instinct in her body told her not to go in. But if she was going to save Beau, she had no other choice. She would never forgive herself if her brother died inside that cave. She steeled her nerves, knowing that this was a gamble, and swam inside.

Eight minutes. Delmar’s third minute underwater – two minutes before she needed to return for air. If she didn’t turn back now, she might not have enough time to get back to the surface. But she wasn’t going to turn back without her brother, at least a sign from him. She swam deeper into the darkness, barely able to make out the jagged rocks lining the walls. It was so cold her body began to shiver and her muscles cramped. It was like ice pressed against her bare skin, too cold to be swimming without a wetsuit. The farther into the cave she pressed, the harder it was to see the exit. She did her best to stay calm, knowing that panic would only make things worse, but fear slowly crept into her brain. What if you don’t find him? What if you can’t find your way back out? Which way is up? What if you run out of time? Then she spotted him. Like a miracle, there he was. Beau was floating lifelessly at the top of the cave, his head bouncing against the unforgiving rocks. The water around his head was somehow darker – it must be blood.

Nine minutes. Delmar had been under for four. She only had one finger still held up. If she didn’t hurry, both she and her concussed brother would die down here. Would anyone ever find them here? She needed to hurry. The air in her lungs was turning stale. She was running out of time. Delmar turned Beau onto his back and wrapped an arm around his chest, under his armpits, and started swimming backwards with her legs and other arm, just like she learned when she was a lifeguard over the summer. But with the extra body and one less arm she was moving much slower, too slow. It was truly pitch black now in the cave. She felt along the walls, hoping that she hadn’t gotten turned around and doing her best to not hit any of the rocks herself. It was all slowing her down so much, and her lungs were crying out for air.

Ten minutes. No more fingers. Had she already been underwater for five minutes? The raging fire in her lungs answered that question. It was so cold, her fingers and toes were going numb and her skin was burning against the chill. Delmar fought the urge to inhale with every ounce of willpower in her body. She felt a sudden shift in her environment. There were no cave walls when she reached out with her hands, and once again her body was tossed around by the tides. Open water. Her heart pounded so hard she thought her ribs might break. Her mind began to fog over. Her chest lurched, begging for air, but she fought back the urge to breathe. Which way is up! Delmar furrowed her brow with self control, carefully letting out a few bubbles to orient her body. She desperately followed them as they floated to the surface, dragging her brother and ignoring her clouding vision.

Eleven minutes. Delmar’s chest heaved again, this time with greater force. She couldn’t fight back any longer, and bubbles exploded from her lips. Just a bit farther, hold on just a bit longer– With one last powerful kick, her head breached the surface. She gasped for air, coughing and fighting the urge to hyperventilate. Beau was not safe yet. He likely inhaled some water, god knows how long he’d been drowning at this point. At least five minutes, possibly longer. He could be suffering brain damage. He could be dying. Delmar paddled to shore as quickly as she could, fighting against the pounding waves that pushed her head underwater again. Every second she could she was taking in greedy gulps of air.

Twelve minutes. Delmar dragged Beau’s body onto the rocky shore and tilted his head back, immediately starting compressions. She couldn’t count the seconds and the thirty compressions at the same time. Why was she still counting the seconds? She needed to be counting something. Compressions it is. She pinched her brother’s nose and administered two rescue breaths. She hoped she remembered all of this correctly from lifeguard training. Still nothing. Thirty compressions. Two rescue breaths. Thirty compressions. Two rescue breaths. Come on, Beau! Stay with me! Beau’s body lurched and his chest heaved with a cough, water pouring out of his mouth. He was breathing again. Delmar felt like she could cry with relief, but this was far from over. Beau’s head was still bleeding and he definitely had a concussion. With the blood mixing with water, who knew how much blood he had lost? There was nothing dry nearby Delmar could use to bandage his head. The closest things were the towels back in their truck at the top of the cliff. She was still so cold, now shivering against the wind, and the sun had completely set. But Delmar was not about to let her brother die, so she hoisted him over her shoulder and carried him to the top of the cliff, counting her steps as she went.

At long last, Delmar laid Beau across the seats in the back of their truck, wrapping his head in a dry towel. She jumped into the driver’s seat and cranked the engine, thankful for the shielding from the wind and the headlights to cut through the dark. With a deep breath, Delmar prepared herself for a difficult drive to the emergency room. There was nothing more she would be able to do for her brother now.

Tag List: @febuwhump @villainsvictim

#whump #febuwhump #febuwhumpday1 #tw drowning #tw concussion #tw cold #tw heights #tw cpr #tw blood #night writes

2 notes · View notes

alicemarion · 4 years

Text

OUTLAST : THE MURKOFF ACCOUNT ( PART 2 ) sentence starters !

this prompt was made using dialogue from issues #4 , #5 and #6 of outlast : the murkoff account by red barrels . feel free to edit any of these to make them more suitable !

“ _____ wasn’t fucking around about disappearing . ”

“ our chances of finding a lead in this are vanishingly slim . ”

“ what you got there ? ”

“ i hate it when they have families . ”

“ since when did _____ hurt women and kids ? ”

“ sorry , that was in bad taste . ”

“ he’s been gone for a while now . ”

“ i saw him back just last night . ”

“ i saw him , standing right over there . ”

“ drove my dogs batshit , which is weird . ”

“ they always used to like him . ”

“ _____ said _____ was here last night . ”

“ it’d take us days to find him under all this shit if he was . ”

“ guess we better get started then . ”

“ it’s garbage . ”

“ is ... is some of this garbage moving ? ”

“ ants . the place is infested . ”

“ what do you mean ? ”

“ emailed him ants . not the strangest thing i’ve seen . ”

“ these look like passwords . ”

“ ouch ! ”

“ little fucker bit me . ”

“ black ants don’t bite . ”

“ motherfucker ! motherfuckfuckfuck - ”

“ they’re all over me ! jesus ! ”

“ not there ! not there ! ”

“ water ! water ! ”

“ goddammit ! make room ! i’m coming in ! ”

“ fuck this ! ”

“ it’s not working ! ”

“ we need fire ! ”

“ take your fucking clothes off ! ”

“ now do me ! ”

“ got anything i could wear ? ”

“ nope . ”

“ what the fuck am i gonna do ? ”

“ hey , that’s the same homeless guy . ”

“ that’s not possible . ”

“ i’m sure it’s him . he’s following us . ”

“ hey ! stop ! ”

“ where’d you go ... ? ”

“ you work for _____ , don’t you ? ”

“ ... who are you ? ”

“ i believe you’ve heard of me . ”

“ you’ve been following us . ”

“ what’s your name ? ”

“ yes . i’ve been watching you . ”

“ you’ve got something most running dog mercenaries don’t . ”

“ i’m not a mercenary . ”

“ you’ve got shame . you know what you’re doing is wrong . ”

“ it’s a job . ”

“ but you’re somebody who’d chase after me , despite the fact that you’re injured and naked . who does that ? ”

“ ... i can’t stand not knowing . ”

“ tell me your name . ”

“ i’ve read your files , _____ . ”

“ six years ago you leaked company files and vanished . ”

“ been off the map ever since , encouraging other whistleblowers . ”

“ you’re trying to destroy _____ . ”

“ of course i am . ”

“ they’re evil . you work for the devil . ”

“ you’re protecting _____ ? ”

“ you’ll never find him . ”

“ i couldn’t tell you if i knew . ”

“ willful ignorance . i remember that . almost let me sleep some nights . ”

“ how do you sleep ? ”

“ how do you justify working for people you know are evil ? ”

“ _____ was a pebble in a pond . ”

“ that is where the real sickness spreads . ”

“ those are coordinates . ”

“ if you cannot look at what’s there and not eat yourself hollow with shame , you’re not human anymore . ”

“ i need your help . ”

“ i need somebody still inside _____ . ”

“ i’m not asking , i’m telling you . you’re going to help me . ”

“ ... i have to do my job . ”

“ what are you ... the fuck ?! ”

“ freeze ! i said freeze , motherfucker ! ”

“ i’m leaving . ”

“ please don’t make me hurt you . ”

“ he’s ... a monster . ”

“ what was he shoving in your face ? ”

“ fucked if i know . ”

“ let’s get you some clothes before i get too turned on . ”

“ dental records . my identification . he wasn’t done with me . ”

“ and we weren’t done with him . ”

“ this make any kind of sense to you ? ”

“ nothing i feel good about . ”

“ but at least it closes the books for now . ”

“ the evidence couldn’t get any more thoroughly destroyed . ”

“ there is one more thing . ”

“ nothing i know of . ”

“ i wouldn’t put too much faith in anything i heard from an animated pile of maggots . ”

“ maybe we should check it out . ”

“ nah , leave it alone . ”

“ you should get home , spend some time with your daughter ... make sure she doesn’t grow up to be somebody like me . ”

“ he ain’t gonna let us get away . ”

“ every step we take , the less power he got . ”

“ we’ll get to the wicked part of the world , and god hisself ain’t even gonna be able to find us . ”

“ do you know if yeshua - ha nostri was a real person ? like , in the bible ? ”

“ never heard of him . ”

“ when’s that book report due ? ”

“ you’re getting an early jump . ”

“ figured i’d be too beat to work on wednesday . ”

“ you didn’t touch your dinner . ”

“ i wasn’t hungry . it’s not like i need the extra calories . ”

“ _____ , honey , that’s crazy . ”

“ you’re a string bean . a beautiful string bean . ”

“ shut up , _____ , god ... ”

“ there’s somebody messing with our mailbox . ”

“ your daughter is connected . ”

“ my partner and i had agreed not to investigate . ”

“ turns out i was lying . ”

“ i hear you now . where are you ? it’s noisy . ”

“ sorry to interrupt you on a sunday ... ”

“ you’re not interrupting anything . ”

“ i was just ... folding laundry , listening to prairie home companion . ”

“ i don’t think i’m gonna make it into the office tomorrow . ”

“ i need to spend some time with _____ . ”

“ no worries . we all need personal time . ”

“ fuck me ... no service ! ”

“ i guess the heat and the sun got to me . ”

“ heavenly god . ”

“ _____ ? what’s wrong ? ”

“ are they out of hot chocolate ? ”

“ multiple perforations of the intestines ... spread throughout her blood ... had to induce a coma in order to arrest progress ... internal bleeding ... ”

“ surgery is no longer an option . ”

“ _____ is dead . i’m so sorry . ”

“ aiiee ! ”

“ i’m so sorry honey , i didn’t mean ... ”

“ we don’t want no trouble ! ”

“ i’m just gon’ take your pistol . ”

“ hey , hey , take it easy . jesus fucking christ ... ”

“ don’t you take that name in vain ! ”

“ safety’s on . ”

“ who’s the girl ? ”

“ jesus , how pregnant is she ? ”

“ god have mercy on your soul . ”

“ i’m not going to hurt you . ”

“ you need helllll ... ”

“ mmm - hmm . ”

“ that’s all you got ? ‘ mmm - hmm ? ’ ”

“ i heard you . it’s the least crazy thing you’ve told me so far . ”

“ fair enough . ”

“ you are in such deep shit . ”

“ i know . ”

“ you lied to me , you went off the reservation . ”

“ what the fuck are you doing , _____ ? ”

“ i fucked up . ”

“ don’t fuck yourself any deeper . i’m on my way . ”

“ spill . ”

“ okay , number one , you work for _____ , not _____ . ”

“ number two , you don’t interfere with ongoing experiments . ”

“ we only enter the equation when the science is done and the side effects need mopping up . ”

“ shit , you don’t even know if this is an experiment . ”

“ and number three , fuck you . ”

“ you don’t work without me . we’re partners , you stupid motherfucker . ”

“ sorr ... ”

“ don’t say you’re sorry . i hate that . ”

“ you want the silver lining to your shit show ? ”

“ you don’t suppose you brought me a suit ? ”

“ i even brought you a tie . hope yellow’s alright . ”

“ you called it a ‘ vision ’ . not a hallucination . ”

“ it felt real . ”

“ first rule in the playbook is don’t get high on your own product . ”

“ what about brain injury ? ”

“ the scan must have been corrupted . ”

“ is there more to your testimony ? ”

“ yes , of course , excuse me . i was just ... ”

“ could we see those brain scans ? ”

“ they’re already off to the lab , but we have copies . ”

“ evidence , all of it . this had become a matter of containment . ”

“ we’d love to meet the patient . ”

“ the little guy in here has been kicking up a storm . ”

“ is that a tattoo ? ”

“ a globe . no , wheels . ‘ wheels within wheels ’ . that’s biblical , from the book of ... ezekiel . ”

“ you can’t have him ! you can’t . i’ll die before i’ll let you kill him . ”

“ i seen the messenger and i know i ain’t burdened with the enemy . ”

“ my blood is true , i’ve sipped at the fountain and borne the pain and marks of salvation . ”

“ you ain’t gonna take my baby , you ain’t ... ain’t ... ”

“ get a doctor ! ”

“ doctor ! ”

“ we lost her . we need to leave , now . ”

“ she’s dead , gone . there was nothing we could do . ”

“ minimal footprint . ”

“ i realized too late i was operating above my security clearance . ”

“ are you sure she was dead ? ”

“ yeah , case closed . ”

“ it’s sad . ”

“ still , i gotta get home . i said i’d be there . ”

“ you’re a good dad ... you always take care of your girl . ”

“ _____ ! you home ?! ”

“ you work for us now . ”

“ we didn’t find dick . ”

“ there we go , my child . every last drop of salvation . your children are waiting for you in heaven . ”

“ god does not pour half measures . ”

“ the storm is abating . all these undeserved blessings . ”

“ he’s still not answering . ”

“ send people to his house . ”

“ they’ve been feeding _____ information . ”

“ that’s no good . ”

“ i’d put my money on _____ . ”

“ if we find him , i’ll put electrodes on _____ . ”

“ how many bodies we looking at ? ”

“ hundreds . it’ll take us days to get them all sorted . ”

“ lot of these local corpses show signs of cyanide poisoning . ”

“ god damn this guy’s heavy ... ”

“ that doesn’t look like cyanide . ”

“ yeah , a lot of them got creative about dying . ”

“ took a lot of what killed her to get the job done . ”

“ last name sounds like a crustacean you’re not supposed to eat . ”

“ how did you know ? ”

“ he was supposed to be making sure they didn’t find this place . ”

“ we got one breathing here ! ”

“ ‘ and i only am escaped alone to tell thee . ’ ”

“ is that from wrath of khan ? ”

“ it’s actually book of job , by way of moby ... ”

“ i know what it is , you don’t have to try and impress me . ”

“ well , holy shit . ”

“ his eyes are all pupil . completely catatonic . ”

“ we need to dig�� in his head . don’t be gentle . ”

“ they rarely are . ”

“ there’s blood on the walls . looks like something was written and smeared away . ”

“ what do you want to do ? ”

“ actually , no . do me a favor and find his corpse , because if he’s still alive , he’s fucking dangerous . ”

“ where’s _____ ? ”

“ you’re asking the wrong question . ”

“ i’ll still help you find the answer , but you’ll need to trust me . ”

“ dead , twice . ”

“ how about you just tell me whatever it is you want to tell me . ”

“ it’s not surprising religion would be such an effective delivery mechanism . ”

“ gods communicating with men , gods dividing themselves into components that men could understand . a trinity . ”

“ in the name of the father ... and of the son ... and of the holy spirit . amen . ”

#prompt.#sentence starters #sentence prompt #outlast rp

54 notes · View notes

reaperintheroses · 3 years

Text

My Pilot

Poe Dameron x Reader

A/N: this is the first time I’ve ever done head cannons and written starwars. This is relatively long and I’m not super proud of the ending. Same as last time I tried to keep it gender neutral so if there are any pronouns for the reader other than they/them please let me know so I can fix it. Also requests are open.

Warnings: death, angst, reader is pretty malnourished in the beginning, there isn’t a ton of dialogue, hinted use of a sedative, hospitals, passing out, talk of execution, angst, fluff.

Now you had lived on Hosnian Prime for about as long as you could remember

You didn’t live directly in the city but more in the countryside

So when the first order invaded your planet your small town was one of the first to be taken over

Now it was important to note that your mother and father had fought for the resistance against the empire all those years ago and you had kept your father’s resistance jacket.

So it wasn’t helpful that if you were discovered to have any links to the resistance, old or new, that you would be executed

You weren’t going to get rid of the jacket, it was the last piece you had of your parents

Though 5 days later when the first order came knocking on your door you realized that you probably should have done something smarter with it than just hide the jacket under a loose floorboard in your bedroom

They asked if it was fine to do a random search to make sure you weren’t hiding any illegal contraband

They were in your house for maybe ten minutes before they found the jacket

You had a fast and unfair trial where you were quickly sentenced to death

Your parents would be so disappointed if they knew you just stopped fighting

You stopped caring about what happened to yourself.

They stored you in what used to be the small city jail and kind of forgot about you

You had no clue how many days had passed or what season you were in now

The only time you really felt something was when one of the guards came in and told you that you had three days left

You just nodded and went back to sleeping, tears staining your cheeks

Death was scary, man how could you not be scared

So much to your surprise a little while later a loud bang woke you up

Shooting up you looked around for somewhere to hide and when you realized there was nowhere you backed yourself into the corner of the old cell

‘Was this the end’ you wondered in the longest three minutes of all time as you waited to see what had caused the large noise

So when a man wearing the ugliest shade of orange you ever had the misfortune of laying your eyes across slid into your view

Let’s just say your interest was quite peaked

He started yelling that there wasn’t time to waste and you just raised your eyebrows

He managed to get your cell open and grabbed your hand pulling you through the building, turning around every few seconds to make sure that you hadn't died

When you stepped outside the first thing you felt was shock

At the time of your arrest and trial, it had been in the dead of winter and from the looks of it it was almost summer

The second thing you felt was self-conscious about how you looked and smelled, you weren't going to deny the man in front of you was quite hot regardless of the blood and sweat all over his suit

The third thing you felt was pain

The sunlight felt far too bright and it blinded you for about a minute and then started to give you a pounding headache

Keeping your eyes shut you just trusted your rescuer to help guide you so that you wouldn't have to open your eyes and face the bright suns beating down on you

You had no clue how long you were running for all you knew was that it was a long time and a while back you cut your leg on a bush or something

You opened your eyes a little later and saw that you were face to face with an x-wing

He climbed up and started hitting different switches trying to prepare the ship for take-off

He shouted down to you to hop up and that one you were safely in hyperspace he would help you clean your leg

Grabbing the later you swung your body into the ship and strapped yourself in

You heard shouts coming from a distance and your eyes widened

You didn’t want to rush him but you were starting to get scared

Right as the stormtroopers started to approach where you were the ship shot up off the ground

When the shit started to leave the planet’s atmosphere you started to get a little dizzy

Lights started swimming in your vision and you reached for the sides of the ship to help steady yourself

Right as the pilot turns around and starts to ask a question you slump forward in your seat a pounding headache causing you to pass out

You woke up strapped to a bed in a very strange place that smelt strangely of lemons

Citrus smell set aside a strange place is still a strange place 11/10 would not recommend

After quickly shaking your head to clear the fuzzy feeling you started to struggle in an attempt to escape the straps that kept you tied to the cot

Before you could even manage to undo the first one though the pilot came running in along with a nurse and one or two more people

The pilot put his hand on your forehead telling you that your okay and that the nurse was just going to give you something to help you calm down

You stop struggling but only because a large sleepy feeling is taking over you

Your holding onto the cliff of consciousness with only your fingertips you can feel the pilot smoothing his hand over your forehead telling you that it's okay to let go and that he’ll be here when you wake up

The cliff breaks and as the last pebbles fall into the dark abyss of sleep you fall with them.

Waking up round two is a little better

You look over and see the pilot asleep in a chair next to you, snoring softly

It’s endearing honestly

Without all of life’s stresses and the fate of the galaxy resting on his shoulders he looked way younger

Earlier when the two of you were racing against stormtroopers and fighting to escape your planet he was hot

But now he was just plain cute

You coughed slightly and he jolted out of his sleep

He hit a button above his head before sitting up and stretching

He looked down at you and you looked up at him with a questioning look

“Your safe, they aren’t gonna hurt you anymore,” he replied back down to you in a soft tone

Oh thank the gods

The two of you just stared at each other for a few more minutes before a nurse came in and kicked him out so she could do an examination without him distracting her

She started asking you questions about when you last ate, how much fluid you had consumed in the past day, etc.

It was hard to answer

She talked about how you would need to be fed through a tube to help get your strength back up but once you got back to a sustainable weight you would be able to start eating solid food again

You nodded at the appropriate time trying to show your focus but your mind was elsewhere

You couldn’t stop thinking about the pilot

You think somewhere in her information dump she realized that you were thinking about completely off-topic things

She made to leave and right as she was about to swing out the door you opened your mouth

For the first time in months, you started to speak

You croaked out a gentle “where am I?”

Your nurse smiled at you and replied “Oh honey, you’re on the resistance base.” she left the room without another word and you shut your eyes as you smiled feeling small tears of joy seep out of your eyes

The pilot would come and visit you almost every day and tell you about everything and nothing from small things like what some of the members of his squadron did at lunch to things like his family back home on Yavin 4, to occasionally stories about his mother who was in the resistance along with your parents.

Even when he couldn’t be there due to missions he would always write you a letter before you left, telling you to keep your head up and that he would be back soon to tell you about all the stars

Every time you missed him you would read his letters, sometimes your shoulders would shake with silent tears, and others with full out laughing fits at the small jokes he would put in there.

He once told you that you were the first person he would come see after he returned regardless of what he had to do once he returned

In the very beginning, he would come to you straight after he landed but the smell of gasoline gave you a headache and that gods-awful flight suit made you want to kick him so you told the nurse to make sure that he showered after returning from a mission before coming to see you

You hadn’t worked up the nerve to talk to the pilot yet. You were worried that he would see you as all healed up and abandon you for the next person he saw who he fancied, you heard the nurses gossip sometimes about him

NOT to imply that the pilot fancied you, nor you him.

You didn’t like him, nope not one bit

You told yourself this all the time but the moment he flashed that damn smile at you it was like the wall you had built around your heart constructed exactly with those words would fall a small bit and once he left you would have to spend hours reconstructing it by telling yourself that he was just watching over you to make sure that you pulled through and then he would leave you in the dust

Love was scary

But when your pilot came to visit you he would talk and talk and talk, and when he wasn’t there? You would fantasize a life with him once this war was over

When you started calling him your pilot?

Honestly couldn’t tell you the line was kinda blurred

You would tell yourself every time he would come that this would be the time you talked to him

It never happened

You were talking plenty now

You would talk to the nurses when they would bring you food or come check on you

It was just nerve racking to talk to your pilot

But when he came in next time, with an encouraging nod from your nurse, you replied to something he said

He just asked a question about what you ate

Normally he would just throw in that question before telling you about what the cafeteria had for breakfast

Before he could answer his own question you just replied quietly “toast and eggs”

He started to answer his question before doing a double take and looking back down at you

“You talk?” you just smiled at him playfully, reveling in his shock for a moment

It wasn’t nearly as bad as you anticipated

After that conversation came far easier

Now at this point your probably able to walk around the infirmary and the base during night when there isn’t as many people

But the fateful day came where it was suggested that you eat in the cafeteria

Yeah you thought taking was hard? This felt nearly impossible

Luckily you were able to come to a compromise and you would wake up early and go eat before most people got up

So there you were standing in front of a display of food with almost no one else around

You felt like a fish out of water and at peace at the same time

You just grabbed the first peace of fruit you saw and a small slice of bread before going to sit down

You started to calm down and eat in peace

You were in your own little world so when you felt a hand on your shoulder you practically fell out of your seat you jumped so high

There, your pilot was standing looking surprised

He gestured next to you and you just nodded your head

The two of you quickly recovered and soon enough he was talking your head off, telling you about a crazy dream he had

Your pilot made you feel very comfortable

So you started to eat breakfast with him every day

This quickly became lunch

And dinner

This was how you met his squadron

You became quick friends with most of them

These meals quickly became apart of your daily routine

You looked forward to seeing your pilot and his friends

So when your pilot did not show up for 4 days straight you started to worry

You were able to catch snap in the hallway one day before dinner and ask where he was

He told you that he was on a solo mission but he should be back in a couple of days

So when he didn’t show up nearly two weeks later you started to get worried

Snap told you that he had been lost in action and if they didn’t hear from him in a week he would be declared dead

You felt empty

You wanted to feel something

Anything

But you just felt empty

You quietly thanked snap and just went about your day

You didn't speak for a while after he told you

They held a small ceremony for Poe

But after that everyone just kind of forgot

it felt like there wasn’t nearly as much joy in the base as before

The squad gave up on trying to get you to talk

You stopped coming to meals daily

You would maybe show up for dinner once a week

You just shut down

You started to run

You hated running but it was a good distraction

You would run around the base four times once a day

And one time during your run you heard a speaker in the communication center crackle to life

You slowed down but didn’t stop

So when you heard your pilots voice over the speaker you ran straight into a wall

Everyone stopped what they were doing

He was requesting access to land

His squadron was in the room

They all looked at each other trying to figure out what to do before snap gave the go ahead

He made eye contact with you before the entire squadron started running towards the hanger

You made it there first and watched his x-wing, looking a little worse for wear, land

He crawled out of the hatch as people started rushing around trying to help him or look at the damaged ship

His squadron started hugging him and asking him questions

You started to turn around, you obviously offered no help here you could see him later

Little did you know your pilot was just trying to shake everyone off so he could get to you

You pressed the button to open the door but before you could get through a hand grabbed your shoulder

You turned around and there he was

Blood coating his forehead, his clothes a mess but somehow still smiling

You started to tell him off, saying that he needed to get checked out and make sure that he was okay and then check in with his squadron, after that he needed to clean himself off, change, and he looked like he could use some sleep and you told him as much. You should definitely be at the bottom of his list of important things to accomplish

He cut off your rambling by grabbing your chin and putting his mouth to yours

You squeaked in surprise and froze for a second before melting into his warm embrace

He smelt like gasoline and saltwater

You pulled away and looked at him

He smiled at you and you knew in that moment that you would have hung all the stars and suns in the galaxy if it meant he would smile at you like that again

He started to talk about how there was this great place to eat a few planets away and how the entire time he was away you were all he could think about, and he knew in his mind that when he got back if he didn't even try to talk to you about the feelings he had bottled up that he might just combust.

You just smiled again and nodded

He hugged you again and you just squeezed him right back

You felt the stars align and as you gripped the jacket he was wearing that was so similar to your fathers you felt a feeling you hadn’t felt in so long

Hope.

#poe dameron x reader #star wars x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron headcanon #poe dameron x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

26 notes · View notes

colorfullfalls · 4 years

Text

Adore you

Summary: Sam and Emily finally get to their wedding day. The outside venue is beautiful and everything is in order except for the fact that Embry and you are fighting.

La Push, ah. What a wonderful- dare say mystical place to be. Waves roared violently against the beach, crashing roughly into the minuscule pieces of sand. Rain pelted among the ground, mixing with ocean, grass, sand, skin, and materials. Clothes stuck to russet toned flesh, sticking like a temporary tattoo for a child.

Panting hard, Embry Call's hands reached up his hands to pushed back Y/N's hair away from her neck, peeling the thick mop away to rest on the other side. Her eyes refused to meet his, wavering to look at the waves. She wished she was anywhere on Earth but in front of him. The way he looked at her hurt. His face held the upmost gaze of betrayal, beautiful brown orbs burning you from the inside out.

Behind her ear held the mark that would cause wretching heartache. A dainty black tattoo rested, rooting anger between the two. Tattoos were meant to be meant to have a deep meaning, and her's did. It was a sail boat. A symbol for the sea. Vast area of the unknown that humans did not get the privledge of ruining. Getting their hands and tainting the beauty it beheld. Embry did not mind her logic behind it, nor did he dislike her love for the sea. But the tattoo. He hated it. Disgust curled in his stomach, gripping his ribs like quicksand and pulling. He wanted to scream.

"You lied."

His words came off venomously. A snake's bite. Harsh syllables announciated with distrust. And pain. Mostly pain. You bit your lip to stop it from trembling. Crying would not solve the issue that was present because you betrayed him. Broke his heart a bit when you swore to guard it and protect the beautiful organ.

"I'm sorry, Embry. It was impulsive-"

He cut you off by shriveling back by your words. A cold laugh escaped his lips, "Damn right it was impulsive. Must've been if you couldn't have talked to me about it."

Fighting over a tattoo seemed dumb. But not in this situation. Embry was not mad that you got a tattoo. It was that the sailboat was your first tattoo. Years ago you promised Embry at the ripe age of 13 that you two would get your first one together. You a small sun and him a small moon. Both on your hips so that it would be a private thing. The ultimate proclamation of love. It was obvious as kids that you two were meant to be, even before you were his imprint. You were raised as best friends. Learned together. Aged together. Grew as individuals together. When the promise was made and 13 you had not yet been lovers, but it was a promise as two beings connected molecularly as best friends.

Even dating you two were still best friends. No one understood you like Embry, and no one ever would. His corny jokes made you laugh so hard that snorts would skip out of your nose. His hugs melted you to the bones. He made you feel complete. Best friends turned lovers, but best friends still for eternity.

"I didn't tell you to avoid this! I knew a fight would ensue." You cried out helplessly, feeling incredibly guilty but defensive at the same time.

"Why do it then? Or maybe consider taking to me about it, telling me at the least. You hid this for, well, it has to have been a while. Clearly healed." He deadpanned, pointing to it like it cut his foot off.

"It's been three weeks, Em."

His eyes lit up in realization, "You wouldn't have sex with me in the daylight. I figured it was just odd timing but no. Just blatantly lying to me to cover this up."

Tears welled in your eyes at how removed your gentle boyfriend was. You didn't recognize the person in front of you. Not that you didn't fully deserve it, but it still stung to see the love of your life so repulsed by your actions. Your female best friend convinced you to get one with her when her long time girlfriend broke her heart. She said she needed it to heal. And you. Against your better judgement, your ass was in a leather chair while a needle plunged relentlessly into your skin. You loved her and wanted to be there for her. Your mind was foggy when it happened due to a few drinks in you too.

Your best friend knew that you and Em talked about getting tattoos together, but she didn't know it was such a sacred vowel or else she never would have helped you break it. She got an eye that had a ring around it like a planet on her forearm. She was an artist and drew it up herself. It meant a lot to her. You loved her, but now you were paying for the actions.

"Y/bff/n made you get this?"

"What?! No! Of course not. I willingly did it, but a few drinks were in me. Which doesn't excuse it, but she got one too. Not like marching or anything..."

Embry stared.

You scrambled to get in as much as you could without interruption, "Wholeheartedly my heart is pounding with guilt that I broke our pact to get our first tattoo together. But to be fair you already have yours."

Embry shook his head in disbelief, "Are you fucking me right now? It wasn't my choice to get this. It's membership into the pack, Y/N. My culture."

You sighed, "I know that Embry, and I'm not trying to disrespect that. I love you and the pack. I love your culture. Undoubtedly it's your first tattoo though. We can get our second together."

You tried to grab his hand but he pulled it away, searing a burn mark right into your heart. Rain pelted down even harder. What had been a nice beach date went to hell when Embry went to move your hair back to kiss your neck when he saw it. Usually you could dodge his attempts to get close to there, but you were so blissed out by his intoxicating kisses that your mind wasn't all there. Ironically the weather went to shit as soon as fighting began.

"Don't touch me. I don't want to hurt you." What you failed to notice earlier was that his hands were shaking. Typically you could caress his bicep or face and he would melt into you. Today the same touches would have the opposite effect. No matter how angry he was, he was terrified to harm you. Any wound inflicted by him would drive him crazy. He loved you. Forever. Even when he was furious he was cautious to keep you safe. This only made you feel worse.

"I think I rather have you physically hurt me than you be angry with me." You mumbled, sniffling at how bad you just wanted to touch him.

He snarled. His veins bulged as he pointed at you, "Shut up! How dare you wish for something like that?"

"I don't wish for that. I'm just saying us fighting is unbearable!"

"You just said you rather me hurt you physically! You want scars like Emily? You want me to be in withering pain and agony as you bleed on the floor?!" He bellowed, shaking even worse.

You let out a sob at his words. This all escalated too quickly. His eyes softened momentarily at your cry but his anger got the best of him as he reminded himself why you were crying. He scrambled to throw his clothes off. His body contorted until his grey wolf stood tall in front of you.

It whimpered, but turned and booked it for the woods. Leaving you alone with his clothes, the rain, guilt, heartache, and the beach. You slid down to your knees, clutching his shirt to your chest.

Emily's wedding was tomorrow. She would look gorgeous in her wedding dress, smile beaming with every step down the aisle towards her wolf. Laughs, happy tears, and hugs would be shared between the wedding and reception. Of course dancing would be a necessity. You were unsure if you were going to be involved in their experience anymore. The pack loved you. You were one of them. But with Embry so upset and not knowing when you two would makeup, maybe it was for the best if you stayed home.

Half an hour later you were still on the beach crying. Jacob ran next to you, scooping you up in his strong arms. You snuggled into his warmth, wishing that it was Embry instead. After everything you still wanted him to be with you. Jacob took you home and helped you dry off before leading you into the shower to encourage you to take a hot shower. If you got sick Embry wouldn't be happy with his packmate.

He sat in the livingroom as you got dressed in the bathroom. You sheepishly walked out, embarrassed of the state he had found you in. His large frame took up the lounge chair. Two cups of hot tea sat on the coffee table.

"For me?" You asked, gesturing to the cup. He picked one up and handed it to you before taking his own. It felt good going down your throat. Warm and reassuring.

"Embry should not have phased like that. He feels like an ass for losing control like that." Jake began.

"He had enough control to strip first. I wasn't in danger." You assured.

Jake nodded, "I saw the whole fight go down. I was on patrol."

You laughed sadly. Poor Jacob had to relive Embry's anger and pain through the shared pack bond. He seemed to not be effected by it. You wondered how Embry was doing now. Texting him seemed like a bad idea. Especially with how things were left.

"It was an ugly fight. Worst one to date. His eyes held repulsion, Jake. Like he could barely look at me. This tattoo is giving me hell."

Jake sighed, motioning for you to come sit next to him. You squeezed into the chair with him, resting on his lap. Jake was like your brother that would help you through anything. His warm hand rubbed your back lightly to assure you that he was there. He would always be there.

"Life is weird and there's a lot that I don't know. What I do know is that if anyone is meant to be together, it's you two. Bonded and meant to be before he even shifted. Imprints are strong but you two are even more. This fight is a pebble that will chip away, I promise."

"Thanks but I don't know. He looked crushed. Phasing like that.. showing up to the wedding tomorrow might not be good. I'm not going."

Jake recoiled, "What? Of course you have to attend! Emily wants you there. Screw Embry. Tomorrow is about Sam and Emily and they certainly need you there. You're family."

"Don't say screw him." You mumbled. Feeling defensive was part of the bond, "I will think about it."

Jake ignored you scolding him because he understood the loyalty you felt for Embry. He felt the same exact way towards Reneesme. Rough times caused fighting like any other couple, but the bond required unconditional love and affection. Some portrayed it as toxic, but you didn't. Relationships typically didn't happen like this but you couldn't stay mad at Embry while growing up. It was an impossible defeat.

"You're a bridesmaid, not going would be terrible. Embry wants you there whether he admits it right now or not. I'll come pick you up, make sure you go."

You sighed, nodding. Lack of your presence would only cause a bigger rift between you two. On top of that, Emily would be crushed and that would make Sam frustrated towards you too. And that would lead to arguing between Sam and Embry because another wolf cannot be rude to an imprint. You helped plan this wedding and you deserved to be there. Jake was giving you big puppy dog eyes. Begging like Embry did. Begging that you could not deny.

"Fine."

Jake stood up, "I will see your pretty face tomorrow."

***

Hours later you laid in bed. Ceiling fan high blast cooling the room. Goosebumps danced across your skin, chilling you more than it should. Embry's warm embrace should've sheltered you from the breeze, making the ceiling fan actually necessary compared to his radiating heat. He wasn't with you tonight. You were alone. Restless. Where did he go if he didn't come home to you? Was he on Jared's couch? Sharing Quil's bed like he did when they were kids? Back home with his mom?

Phone screen said 2:41. Four hours after you laid down. Sleep was battling you, heart beating too fast with each memory of the argument. His hurt tone rang through your ears. Past text messages assured you that things would get better between you two. His corny jokes and memes made joy fill you.

This fight was dumb.

Your thumbs typed out all the words you wanted to say and you were about to send it you saw three dots meaning that he was typing too. He was reaching out too! The three dots dissapeared with a lack of text. Mood officially dampened. Who knew texting could be an emotional roller coaster.

Hours later your ass was seated in an uncomfortable chair while your hair was being done. Makeup had been applied an hour ago and you already wanted it off. Your upset hands liked to rest on your face and makeup didn't allow that. Emily and the other girls were chirpy. Gorgeous teeth on show from beaming. You did your best to match their mood. Key word, tried.

"Okay, you're hair is done. Go get in your dress!" Emily cooed, hands on either side of your shoulder. You offered a smile.

Putting on the dress took help from Leah. She was in a sour mood. Her first love getting married to her cousin and all. It was reasonable and truly expected. She may be a shape shifter, but human she still was. Her warm hands zipped up the back of the dress. Leah sensed your bad vibe like second nature.

"Go find Embry, makeout for a minute and get over with whatever the hell this is. It's ridiculous. You two are disgustingly in love. Fix it because it's dragging us all down." Her words were honest. Leah was always honest. Basically in her DNA.

You snorted, "We are not making out here. Im sorry that this is impacting you guys too, but this is not getting dealt with today. Emily and Sam are getting married."

"Won't be perfect if our favorite couple is on the outs."

"Favorite couple?" You questioned.

She nodded as if her sentence was as obvious as stating that the vast sky was blue. You rolled your eyes and moved the bottom of the dress so that it was in place. The light pink silk dress suited you. It suited all of the bridesmaids. Nice dress. Emily had great taste. Speaking of the devil, Emily walked around the corner. Her brown eyes widened at the sight of you and Leah. As if it wasnt her wedding day. As if she wasn't the most stunning looking woman for the day.

"Gorgeous! Oh my goodness, you both look amazing. Thank you for sharing this day with me," her eyes shifted to her Leah, "Especially you, Leah. I know I don't deserve your support considering what happened on your wedding day, but it means the world to me that you are here."

"Yep." Leah gave a tight smile. Emily's face fell at the lack of words from her cousin. You sighed and nudged Leah. She rolled her eyes but tried, "This isn't easy but I'm doing it. For you."

Emily closed the distance between them and pulled her cousin in for a hug. Tension resides and still would for a while, but the bond was slowly mending. Cousin like sisters trying to reconnect. It was hard when Leah was the one who lost everything and Emily gained what she had. Leah still did have one thing. Seth. And you. Seth was her brother and best friend. He always had her back. But you did too. Days after Embry introduced you to the pack you befriended her.

You felt intrusive of the moment so you walked out into the hall. A few doors down led to the outside. Some fresh air would be lovely. Sunshine fluttered through the glass door when you arrived. Glancing outside you halted.

Embry.

Black material covered his toned body, rose sitting perfectly on his left peck. His brown floppy hair was styled perfectly. Your fingers longed to run through the thick locks. You should've been the one to help him do his hair rather than peaking at him behind a door like a child that is supposed to be in time out. He was standing with Jake and Quil. His two friends were laughing as Embry leaned against the wall. Not laughing. Although his face didn't look miserable like yours did.

Jake's eye caught yours and you froze, terrified of what would happen next. Talking to Embry in front of them would most likely cause more issues. You knew Jake would side with you and Quil would side with Embry. Quil was forever Embry's best friend. Jake could see past that.

"There's Y/N." Jake spoke. Embry leaned off the wall and looked around for you. And there you were. Looking gorgeous as ever on the other side of the door. His face faltered into vulnerability as he realized how sad you looked. He did that. He made you sad. Before he could do anything you walked away. He grunted in annoyance, hitting the brick wall behind him.

"Fuck!"

Line up for walking down the isle was what you dreaded because obviously Embry was your match. Room silent as you grudgingly came to stand beside him. His eyes scanned over your beautiful face in sorrow. You busied yourself by picking at your nails. A tick that you did when you avoided confrontation.

Walking down the isle, an arm intertwined in his was mandatory. You did it. Sparks flew up your arm at touching him after so long. His warm skin blazed against yours pleasantly. During the wedding Embry kept stealing glances at you. You noticed and held his gaze when you could.

Sam and Emily's vowels were beautiful. Raw and true words about their unconditional love. Hell Emily has scars on her face from his anger and they got past that. Certainly you could get over Embry shifting yesterday. He did look incredibly handsome across from you.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

The crowd cheered as Sam and Emily kissed. He dipped her back like a princess and the cheers only got louder. Kim nudged your shoulder and you two shared a smile when they road off to the reception hall in their decorated car.

You contemplated how you would get to the reception yourself. You arrived with Jake but your body was buzzing with anticipation to touch your boyfriend. Fighting seemed pointless. Today was about love. And you loved eachother. This tattoo was permanent but so were you guys.

Embry was leaning against his truck when your knuckles tapped on the door. He jumped at the surprise but he calmed down when he saw it was you. Looking beautiful as ever. Your hair blew in the wind, giving him a nervous smile.

"You look gorgeous, baby." He lowly said, gesturing to you.

You blushed, "Thanks. Not so shabby yourself, mister."

"I love you." He blurted, "I love you so much. I'm sorry for yesterday. I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm especially fucking sorry for phasing."

Your eyes watered as you walked straight into his blazing embrace. He scrambled to pull you as close as possible. Your hands clutched the fabric of his tux as his hands gently rubbed up and down your back. Your mind was flooding with euphoria at how close he was to you. Intoxicating. You hadn't been this far away from Embry for so long since you were fifteen.

"I'm sorry for my tattoo. It was shitty of me not to talk to you about it."

"I was just hurt that you got one without me. I wanted your first tattoo to be shared with me. It was selfish. You may be my imprint, but it's still your body." He confessed.

You pulled away so that you could look up at him, "Yes. My body is mine. But my soul is undoubtedly mixed with yours, belongs to you. Getting a tattoo doesn't make that any less."

An infectious smile broke out on his face. His hands cupped your face as he brought you closer, noses rubbing affectionately. His hand moved to your chain to raise it up, lips slotting quickly against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, eliciting a moan. You pulled back when you heard someone behind you two.

Jake stood there with a shit eating grin, "Was gonna ask if you needed a ride but you two clearly made up."

"Shut up dude." Embry groaned, pressing a few kisses to your cheek, "I missed her."

"Yeah, as if the whole pack didn't know that. See you guys at the reception." Jake retorted.

"See ya Jake!" You called out.

"Think we can manage a quickie before the reception?" Embry asked, hands dangerously roaming your body as he lifted you into the truck. You laughed as you were put on your back in the backseat. Your head lifted to see that no other cars were in the parking lot. You hummed as he shut the door and climbed on top of you. His hands pushed the dress off from your shoulders, head dipping down to appreciate what was his.

"This is a church parking lot." You teased as his tongue ran along your collar bone, hot saliva trailing behind. You grabbed his head and pulled it back up so that he could look at you.

"Yeah and? Everything about you is holy."

You snorted, pulling him down for another kiss. His warm hands slipped under your dress and grabbed your thighs, soft flesh melting against his. He pulled your hips up closer to him, grinding into you. You moaned at how his body moved against yours, two bodys and basically one soul. His lips moved to press hot kisses to your neck until they sucked on your tattoo.

"I think I actually like this spotch of ink." He murmured, running his tongue over it as he bunched up your dress to rest around your torso.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. It's hot."

Twenty minutes later you two walked into the reception hall hand in hand. Embry was especially lovey after the ten minutes spent in his truck. You both made sure that no evidence of your quickie was present. Emily and Sam were sharing their first dance in the middle of the dance floor. You led him to your table where Jake, Quil, Jared, Kim, Paul, and Rachel sat. Seth and Leah sat with Sue and Charlie a table over.

"Hot make up sex?" Paul teased as Embry pulled your chair out for you.

You shook your head at his blunt question. It wasn't like your sex life was a secret. Embry could not keep those thoughts to himself when he was shifted. Actually none of the boys could. It was how it went. Over time you got used to it. It wasn't Embry's fault.

"The best." Embry said intertwining your hands, "But not that that's any of your concern."

Paul raised his hands in surrender. The hothead knew better than to overstep and disrespect a fellow wolf and imprint. That would lead to a fight and Sam would murder them.

"Don't listen to Paul. We're glad that you two fixed things." Kim sweetly said. Her eyes were always so wide and kind.

"Yeah, bunch'a miserable kids in love. Embry was mopey all morning." Jared added.

Embry rolled his eyes, thumb rubbing affectionately across the top of your soft hand, "Beg to differ.."

"Oh wanna bet, Call?! You leaned against walls and didn't talk. Like uh," Paul snapped his fingers as he tried to think of the word, "like a mute."

"Love you man, but he's right." Quil spoke. Embry snapped his head to glare at his best friend. In return Quil sheepishly shrugged and sipped his water.

Embry then shifted towards you again, "Do you think any other wolf packs are around that I can join?"

You laughed at his deadpanned tone and lightly slapped his bicep, "You love them and you know it, bub."

"Yeah, bub." Rachel teased, a beautiful smile gracing her lips. Paul smirked with a profound proud feeling bubbling in his chest as he listened to his imprint.

Sam and Emily's dance ended and the dance floor was opened up. Embry took this chance to escape the ragging from his friends to share a slow dance with you instead. His hands rested on the curve of your back while yours intertwined around his neck. His face bend down to be close to yours.

"So I was thinking about our tattoos..." Embry started.

You cocked a curious eyebrow, "Oh? And what conclusion did you arrive at?"

"Let's get them tomorrow. Quil knows a guy who does some wicked cool ones and I just know he will make them exactly how we want. And why wait? Why did we not do it a year a or two ago?" He rambled, twirling you around and bringing you back into his arms.

"No clue why we waited. But.. I am so down for tomorrow. Sooner the better."

He hummed happily, "Great. Tomorrow it is."

Harry Style's Adore You came on and you grinned, "You may be an ass at times Embry Call, but I adore you."

"Thank you baby, but hey." You looked into his loving brown eyes and waited for him to go on, "I'd walk through fire for you."

Song lyrics or not, Embry Call would legit do anything for you, "Just let me adore you." You responded.

He leant down to peck your lips, "That's the only thing I'd ever do."

#twilight imagine #embry call #embry call imagine

216 notes · View notes

producingtrashycontent · 3 years

Note

took me a bit to get my words strait, the idea is like the Black Bulls and Blue Roses have to do a joint mission or something, they each send Magna and Sol not knowing who the others were going to send. so sol and magna have to get along to get the mission finished. something happens and sol gets hurt, and magna has to help her. he asks why she hates him, she explains why she hates men, and he just talks some sence into her. not sure on the rest though.

OMG I FINALLY FINISHED! Damn this took me much longer than I thought, but here it is. I personally don't think it's my best writing, but I blame that on finals. I also made this longer than my usual requests. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover

Magna took a hesitant glance around the common space. There was no one there, but Magna could never be too sure. That pudding thief was out to get him. This time, Magna would make sure he didn't lose his pudding to that jerk. With one more hesitant glance, Magna swiftly opened the pantry and snatched a pudding cup from one of the lower cabinets.

The lightning bolt flew past Magna's head and struck the pantry. He'd been spotted. Magna dodged another lightning bolt that struck the place he'd been standing moments before. A nearby hallway appeared in Magna's peripheral vision. He bolted for the hallway, but he ran into someone before he could leave.

"The hell? It was peaceful while I took my dump. Now I have to deal with this?"

Magna dropped down to one knee immediately. "Captain Yami Sir!"

"Better run Magna, or your clothes might catch fire!"

Yami sighed before snapping his fingers and pointing to the ground in front of him. Luck appeared instantly and sat on the floor beside Magna.

"Hey Captain! You finally going to fight me? How much do you want?"

"Damnit Luck. I'm not going to fight you. I have a special mission."

Magna nearly jumped. A secret mission! This would definitely get him stronger than Luck. Yami ignored Luck's bouncing and pointed at Magna.

"You. I need you for this mission. It's going to be a joint mission with a member of the Blue Rose Knights. We can only have one or two people go, so I'll send you this time. It'd be too much trouble for both you and Luck to go."

"Awww," Luck groaned. "But I want to go too!"

Yami ignored Luck's plea and turned him full attention to Magna. "You leave here tomorrow. I need you to investigate some suspicious dealings going on near Rayaka Village. Since you lived there as a kid, I'd figured you were best fit for the job."

"Thank you very much Yami Sir!" Magna stood and saluted. "I won't let you down!"

•~•~•~•

Sol groaned as her squad mates all chatted about their boyfriends. What was the appeal with men anyway? They were all dirty, idiotic, and other things that Sol couldn't remember off the top of her head.

"I went to the beach with my boyfriend a few months ago, and he was so ripped!"

"Oh wow, really? I want a peek of that!"

"No way! He's mine." The two girls chuckled between each other.

Sol rolled her eyes as she poked at her dinner. It was very hard to eat when her squad mates would talk about men non-stop. Remembering the men who disappointed her, Sol scoffed and shoved some vegetables into her mouth. Her food didn't taste as good when she reminisced about her past.

The chatter between the girls quickly died down. Sol automatically saluted when she spotted her captain out of the corner of her eye.

"Big Sis!"

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Sol, I've told you before to call me 'Captain', not Big Sis."

"Ok, Big Sis!"

Ignoring Sol, Charlotte walked away, but she motioned for Sol to follow her. After some time, Charlotte finally stopped.

"So, what do you need me for?"

"I have a special mission for you."

Sol smiled. "Me? Really?"

Charlotte nodded. "I need you to investigate something near Rayaka Village. You will be working with a member of the Black Bulls. Get yourself ready. You leave early tomorrow morning."

With a glimmer in her eye, Sol saluted her captain. "Yes!"

•~•~•~•

Magna squatted on a rock that overlooked Rayaka from a cliff. The breeze blew gently around Magna as he stole another glance around the area. It seemed like the perfect day for a secret mission, and yet, his partner from the Blue Rose Knights hadn't arrived yet.

"Damn, when are they gonna get here? It's almost noon. The sun's gonna roast me before they get here." Magna grumbled.

"No way, funglasquent?"

Magna whipped his head around at the sound of the voice from behind him. His eyes landed on a familiar, tall figure.

"You? The giant girl from the Royal Knights Exam?"

Sol groaned. "Unbelievable! Why did I get stuck with you?"

"Same question to you, giant girl!" Magna sighed as he stole another glance at Rayaka. "Captain Yami gave me this mission because I lived in this town when I was young, so I can navigate around here better than my squad mates."

Sol hesitated a moment. That was a valid reason for the short punk to come along on this mission. Charlotte didn't give her an explicit reason for coming. It must be because she was the one who was best suited for this mission.

"Well, my captain believed I was the one best suited for the mission."

"Even so, you gotta listen to me this time. I know this village like the back of my hand. If we want to catch those magic item smugglers, you have to follow my orders." Magna spoke dismissively as he turned his attention back to Rayaka. He usually wasn't as into missions as he was now. Any threat to Rayaka was a personal threat against Magna.

"Who died and made you captain?" Sol spat. "I don't see why you have to lead the mission."

"Ugh, don't you get it, giant girl? I lived here. I know all the best places to hide and store expensive things. I can catch those smugglers. Now, we have to cooperate to get this mission done."

Sol pondered Magna's words for a moment. She did want to please Captain Charlotte and finish this mission, but she didn't want to listen to a man of all people. Listen to a man or finish the mission successfully. Those were Sol's two options. After a few moments, Sol settled on the best option: listening to the glasses punk.

"F-fine." Sol spat. "I'll listen to you."

"Finally!" Magna cheered. "See that Yami Sir? I'm following in your footsteps!"

Not wanting to watch Magna cheer, Sol turned her eyes to Rayaka. She spotted a group of people flying on brooms a good distance away from the village.

"Hey, funglasquent. There's a group of people approaching Rayaka from the east." Sol tapped her foot on the ground as Magna stopped his cheers to look in the direction Sol mentioned. Sure enough, there was a large group of people approaching. They stopped abruptly and descended into the forest below.

"That's kinda sus..." Magna muttered.

"Sus?" Sol echoed.

Magna nodded. "Yeah, sus. Short for supilicious or something."

"Ugh, you mean suspicious, don't you?"

"Exactly."

Sol had wanted to laugh, but that would mean admitting his joke was funny. He was serious, which made it funnier. Sol had a feeling he wasn't joking though.

"Alright tall girl! Hop on my Crazy Cyclone and we'll get to those bandits in a jiffy." Magna leaned against his broom, which was modified to look like some weird contraption.

Rolling her eyes, Sol made her way over to the Crazy Cyclone and sat on the back. "This thing is horrid, but at least it matches your punky vibe."

"Aww thanks!" Magna smiled as he sat on the Cyclone before freezing. "Wait, that wasn't a compliment!"

"Let's get a move on, funglasquent."

Magna started up the Cyclone as he grumbled under his breath. Before they took off, Magna told her to hold onto him somewhere. Sol considered letting go and jumping off, but she reluctantly gave in and held on. She wanted to complete the mission Charlotte gave her. Nothing would stop her, not even a gross man.

•~•~•~•

Eventually, Magna landed the Crazy Cyclone close to where the group landed. It was definitely dangerous for Sol and Magna to approach the large group by themselves, but they were the only ones who could.

"Why did that guy disappear into a hole in the ground?" Magna pointed at a nearby tree with an odd-looking branch.

"Did he?" Sol asked. She doubted that was possible, but thieves would do anything for money.

Magna nodded. "Yeah. He pulled on that funky looking tree branch. I think we should follow him."

"Whatever idea you have is dumb. We'll probably get killed going down there."

Magna crossed his arms. "Well what's your plan, O Wise One?"

Sol stared off to the side before shrugging her shoulders. Groaning, Magna turned his attention back to the tree. As he thought about what to do, an idea struck him like Luck shooting him with lightning.

"Hey, tall girl."

"Yeah?"

Magna rubbed his hands together. "What if we wait here for them to come out!"

Sol arched an eyebrow but said nothing. Magna kicked a nearby pebble. "Damn, that sounded way cooler in my head."

•~•~•~•

After several hours of waiting, the sun was setting and Sol and Magna had done nothing. The suspects hadn't come out of their little hole in the ground. Sol was seriously considered heading home until she imagined how her captain would react. After a few more moments of thought, Sol decided to stay.

"Ugh, I thought this was supposed to be a secret mission!" Magna grumbled from the ground. "I was ready to kick some ass!"

"I'll kick your puny little man ass if you don't shut up."

Magna sat up defiantly. "Damn, what's with you giant girl? What did I ever do to you?"

Sol turned her face away. "You're a man. That's my problem with you."

"So, you hate me for something I can't control?"

Before Sol could retort, there was some rumbling nearby that shook the ground. Sol felt a body slam into her and knock her to the ground. Magna fell on top of her as a boulder rolled over the place she stood moments ago.

"Funglasquent, you saved me." Sol muttered.

Magna smirked. "Yep. That's what a real man does."

Magna offered his hand to Sol, who slapped it away and stood on her own. A small pile of rocks fell from the small hill they camped beside to reveal an entrance to a cave. Sol jerked her head in the direction of the cave.

"Hey, funglasquent. I think we should head there."

Magna shook his head rapidly. "Umm, I don't know. That cave is kinda spooky. What if something tries to eat us?"

Sol smirked. "I thought you were a "real man". Or are you a scared little whimp who can't complete a task even when life opens up a path for him?"

Magna seemed to physically shake off his insecurities. "Y-yeah! I'm a real man! I'll lead the way."

Sol allowed herself to chuckle at Magna's antics as he tried to overcome his nerves and step into the daunting cave.

•~•~•~•

It was odd that they walked for so long without encountering anything. Eventually, the cave got dark enough to where Magna had to create a small flame to be able to see. Magna kept one hand against one side of the cave and Sol kept hers on the other. The cave grew colder the further they walked. There were a few times when Sol and Magna slipped on the smooth stone. The stone sloped gently downward, but as they walked further, the ground sloped more. Eventually, Sol and Magna felt the stone slope closer together until they found an opening in the stone.

Voices floated in from the opening in the stone. Magna and Sol hid on either side of the opening. There was a group of people discussing different subjects while tossing around what appeared to be magic items between each other. Magna slipped into the cavern and ushered Sol to follow him. They eventually found a stack of boxes to hide behind and listened in on the conversation.

"If we take this route, there will be fewer Magic Knights."

"That route may have less Magic Knights, but the Magic Knights that are there are from the Crimson Lion Kings. They're too powerful. My route has more of them, but these guys are from the Aqua Deer. They're much weaker."

"Either way, we have to get these tools across the Grand Magic Zone before the end of the month. The Lords and Lady await us."

"Magic item smugglers," Sol whispered. "Should've known."

Magna clenched his fist. "Damn those bastards."

Magna missed the moment the smugglers fell silent, but he noticed the deafening silence a moment later.

"Someone's here."

"I sense some weak mana from over there!"

Sol felt her heart leapt into her throat. Grabbing Magna's hand, she pulled him into a crouched position so they'd be ready to run at a moment's notice. Unfortunately, that position wouldn't help Sol avoid the box that got knocked into her head by a blast of magic. Sol didn't feel her body hit the ground, but that was probably due to the adrenaline in her system. She could sense Magna firing off some spells before he slung her over his back and ran. He turned several times to shoot spells at their assailants, but he spent most of his energy into running. Sol felt her limbs grow heavy to the point she couldn't move them anymore. A dull throb came from her head, but Sol was too tired to pay much attention to it. As Magna stopped shooting spells to break out into a sprint, Sol felt the darkness overtake her vision.

•~•~•~•

Sol woke up to the sound of a crackling fire. Her front side was warm due to the fire, but her back was frozen. As she opened her eyes, she spotted Magna poking at a fire in a pit. When Magna spotted Sol moving, he gave her a small smile and wrapped a cloth around her.

"Hey, you feeling ok? I know getting hit in the head by a metal crate is gonna mess with ya a bit, but I hope you're not too messed up."

Sol squinted at Magna. Why was he being nice? In her life, men were never like this. They were all bark and no bite. But Magna was different. He seemed to represent men as they were portrayed in stories. He was very kind and chivalrous. Sol's mouth didn't seem to catch up with her mind, because she gave Magna a nasty answer that she immediately regretted.

"I'm fine. I could've done fine without you. All you men are worthless. I would recover better without you."

Magna frowned, although this frown was more hurt than anger. "Well, damn. Sorry I tried helping you to make sure you didn't die. Unfortunately, I can't leave you until we finish our mission."

Sol wanted to say something, but she was sure her mouth would betray her, so she said nothing. Magna tossed a fewn more sticks into the fire before sitting back.

"Why do you hate men anyway? It's not as if we choose our genders before we're born, so it's not fair to hate us for something we can't control, ya know?"

Sol wrapped the blanket closer to her. "I...I've never had a single positive experience with any man. When I was little, all the men in my village boasted about everything with nothing to back it up. The boys my age were the same. They treated me like a delicate flower that needed to be protected. When the time came for them to protect my village, they ran away like cowards. I stood my ground and fought, but the attackers overpowered me. Luckily, the Blue Rose Knights showed up in time and Captain Charlotte saved me. Ever since then, all the men I've met or worked with have been the same sad, disappointing losers."

So that's why she's so loyal to her captain and her squad. I'd be the same way if I was in her shoes. "Well, that really sucks. I'm gonna be honest, I was kinda the same way for a portion of my youth, but a great old man whipped me into shape to become the man I am today."

"Old man?" Sol echoed.

Magna nodded. "Yeah. There's a neighboring village which I used to invade all the time. But each time, the chief of the village gave me a lesson I'd never forget. Unfortunately, I was a little punk that ignored the lessons and did the same stupid things over again. But I learned and grew into a better person."

"You're not like that anymore..."

Magna removed his sunglasses and glanced up to the sky. Sol was immediately drawn in to his eyes. "I get that you don't like guys like you described, but not all guys are like that. I could give you my squad as an example. My best bud Luck, why he's a battle freak that thinks about nothing else other than fighting. Gauche, he's just creepily obsessed with his sister. He's recently started to warm up to the rest of us. Gordon, he's real quiet and creepy, but he's a real sweet guy that wants the best for everyone. Captain Yami is a manly as they come. He doesn't care about how strong or weak you are, or who you are or where you came from. If you can grow stronger, you're cool in Yami's eyes. And little Asta, or as I like to call him, Rasta. He the manliest of all of us. He fights to protect people without a single thought about himself. I may call myself a man, but lil' Rasta's the real man here. What I'm trying to say is not all guys are bad. As the old saying goes, "Don't judge a book by its cover." Sure, there's always guys out there who are jackasses, but if you get to know us, you'll discover that we're not all that bad."

Magna drew in a deep breath after his little speech. He was right. All Sol had done her whole life was judge men based on how she had experienced them throughout her earlier years. If she could get to know guys, maybe she might find one who's not so bad. Sol ended that train of thought as she glanced over at Magna. He's a short punk with glasses, but he's not so bad. I guess becoming friends with him isn't the worst thing in the world.

#black clover #magna swing #sol marron #magna x sol

20 notes · View notes

queen-scribbles · 4 years

Text

Shepherd’s Honor

This oneshot brought to you by the mental image of Trouble carrying Trick piggyback that wouldn’t go away. :D Not that I tried all that hard.

----

Patrolling Haven was boring. Usually. Trick couldn’t say she cared much for how today chose to make itself an exception to that rule.

Namely the sharp, familiar pain that spiked through her right shin. It had her bracing one hand against a nearby wall for support even as her gaze tipped skyward.

Trouble must have heard her harsh breath in, because he stopped and swung around to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Trick said, not finding what she’d expected in her scan of the pale blue sky. She pushed away from the wall and fell in step next to him again, but only made it a few paces before a follow-up ache cramped her leg and made her flinch. “Okay, maybe something...”

Trouble shot her a look caught somewhere between confused and concerned. “What?”

“Well, first off, it’s gonna storm later,” she replied, leaning against his shoulder for support as she tried to shake out the cramping muscles.

That made him frown up at the cloudless sky. “How can you tell?”

“I’m magic,” Trick deadpanned, cautiously setting weight back on that leg.

Trouble snorted. “Shit, I know that. Seriously, Trick, how can you tell? An’ are you alright?”

“Yes, to the second,” she assured him when her leg held weight, “and short answer for the first is I broke my leg real bad when I was younger an’ now it aches when rain’s comin’.”

His nose wrinkled. “That’s... bad. But also kinda cool.”

She laughed. “Tell me about it; all in lookin’ for the silver lining. I don’t like that my leg hurts, but it really comes in handy to have a warning about that kinda thing when you’re debatin’ if you should move on from a town or stay put one more night.”

“I’ll bet.” He cocked his head. “You okay to keep going?”

Trick nodded. “Kinda hafta be, don’t I? We’re only halfway done.”

Trouble rolled his eyes. “Like I’d make you keep walkin’ on that leg if it was hurtin’ you that bad.”

“Sweet of you,” Trick laughed, flipping her braid back over her shoulder. “But it’s fine for now. I’ll let you know if that changes.”

He grinned and nudged her shoulder. “Promise?”

“Shepherd’s honor,” she grinned back. “I promise.”

They made it another quarter of the way before it changed. Not coincidentally, that was when the first dark storm clouds appeared on the horizon. Trouble noticed those two things in the opposite order Trick did; saw the clouds and turned to look at her.

She was limping, she knew, just noticeably, and flashed a sheepish smile. “It doesn’t hurt. Not that bad. Only thing that might be a problem is stairs.” The words had barely left her mouth when they reached the first (very long) flight of stairs back down to Ashtown and the Shepherd compound. “This just isn’t my day, is it?” she muttered wryly, and kicked a pebble off the top step.

Trouble scratched the back of his neck. “Want me to carry you?”

“What, like piggyback?” Trick snarked, touched by the offer but unsure how well it would work.

He shrugged. “’Less you wanna bang your head against the wall every few steps, that’s prob’ly the best way, dontcha think?”

“Yeah, but...”

He winked at her. “C’mon, Trick, you can’t be that heavy.”

Not for you, at least, she thought dryly. “It’s not that! I just know how fast carryin’ weight--any weight--can tire you out on stairs.”

Another shrug. “Better that than makin’ you walk on it.” Trouble grinned. “I’m not gonna drop you.”

Trick laughed. “Promise?”

His grin widened. “Shepherd’s honor.”

She only hesitated a couple seconds more. “Oh, fine.” It would be better than fumbling down on her own, no matter the loss of dignity. And they were pretty close in height, it was easy enough to wrap her arms around his neck and boost herself up. Trouble jokingly staggered sideways as he settled his grip under her legs.

“Muti,” Trick growled through a laugh as she freed one arm to punch his shoulder.

“Just teasin’,” Trouble promised with another grin.

“I know,” she said, resting her chin atop his head. His hair smelled like sun and charch and she smiled at the familiarity. “I’m good when you are.”

“Right.” He shifted ever so slightly so his hands were closer to the backs of her knees, and started down the steps.

It was trickier than either anticipated to keep their balance, but they managed to get to the bottom without killing themselves. There were two or three more similar flights to go, but Trick insisted on walking in between so Trouble could have a break. “It doesn’t hurt that much,” she promised. “More like a really strong cramp than anything.”

“You say that like it’s any better than your leg actually hurtin’.” he muttered.

“Trust me, it is,” she sighed, running one hand along her braid. I know from experience.

Trouble kicked a pebble, and they watched it skitter ahead of them. When they caught up to it, Trick kicked it further. This time it veered sideways when it ricocheted from the edge of a cobblestone and out of reach.

“So, how exactly didja break your leg so bad it helps you predict the weather?” he asked when they reached the next flight of stairs, longer and narrower and curving left.

Trick laughed as she hoisted herself up on his back again. “Oh, it was very exciting. I fell off a ladder.”

Trouble barked a disbelieving laugh of his own. “Really? That’s it?”

“Well, I may have been runnin’ from some people...” she allowed, tightening her grip when he started to turn and look at her. “Trouble, watch where you’re goin’.”

“Right, right.” He hesitated a beat. “Who were you runnin’ from?”

“You want the long version?” Trick chuckled. Even that wasn’t a terribly exciting story, in her opinion, but he was carrying her down steps without a word of complaint. She’d spin him any damn tale about herself he wanted.

“Sure, why not?” Trouble grunted, shifting his grip. “If you don’t mind, anyway.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” she promised, wriggling higher when she realized she was sort of strangling him in her current position. “So, there’s this merchant. Decided he wanted extra muscle for the trip from Capra to this town out near Lindell, which makes sense. He was offering good money and I needed work, so I signed up. It’s a pretty long trip, we had to scare off a couple groups of bandit, actually kill some mean-spirited critters, so I more than earned my lyss this time ‘round.”

“And?” Trouble prompted when she paused.

Trick snorted a laugh through her nose and rested her chin atop his head again. “And the kisich tried to weasel outta payin’ me. Dunno if he was just a skinflint or had something against Diminished or whatever, but when I stood my ground instead of cavin’ like he expected, his men went to force the issue and we had a... uh, scuffle.” She chuckled. “Got the mother of all beautiful black eyes from that scrap. Anyway, partway in, one gets the bright idea to taunt me with the coin purse holdin’ my pay. Guess he thought it would rile me up so I didn’t think straight. He forgot how hard I am to rile. And how quick I can be.” She grinned, her fingers digging into Trouble’s collar. “Punched him in the nose and took off with my money when he dropped it.”

Trouble snorted. “Lemme guess, they came after you.”

“Like yiwari after a rabbit,” Trick confirmed, sliding off his back as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “But I had a really good head start.” Her leg cramped and she glanced up at the much closer storm clouds. “And I made it even bigger ‘cause the outskirts of the town had the houses all built close together, y’know, where you can jump pretty easy roof to roof?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“There was a ladder to the roof every so many houses, so I went up the first one I found and zigzagged my way along the outskirts, jumpin’ alleys an’ hidin’ a couple times ‘til I lost ‘em.”

“Good thing you didn’t fall,” Trouble commented

“Oh, very good,” Another of those silver linings. Trick agreed wryly, scanning the side streets they passed for anything off. It seemed all clear. “Would not have been pretty.”

“Why didn’t ya just tell somebody that kisich was tryin’ to cheat ya?”

She snorted. “Maybe I woulda if I weren’t so obviously Diminished.” She watched his gaze flick to her hair, then back to the street. “They had an.... unlovey reputation regarding how they treated my kind.”

“Oh.” Trouble cracked his knuckles. “I’da kicked their asses. The merchant’s men, I mean.”

“I know,” Trick said with a smile, bumping her shoulder to his(harder than she’d meant to, her limp was getting worse). “If I’d had you backin’ me, I mighta gone for that myself. As it was, I didn’t really wanna fight them. Not there. Just wanted my money. An’ I got that.”

This last stretch of road was a short one, and they reached the final flight of stairs much more quickly than the previous ones. The clouds were actually starting to dim the sun as Trick climbed up on Trouble’s back again, and she hoped the approaching storm held off long enough for them to reach the compound.

“So where this ladder you fell off figure in?” Trouble prompted as he started down the steps.

“Right.” Trick pulled her attention off the sky and back to her story. “Getting down. I waited a good... half hour in my last hidin’ spot to make sure they were gone. The sun was startin’ to set when I finally felt safe comin’ out; the shadows kept me from seeing the, uh, condition of the closest ladder. The wood was all dry-rotted, fourth or fifth rung down broke the second I put weight on it. I fell maybe fifteen feet? Somethin’ like that.”

Trouble gave a low whistle. “Ouch.”

“Tell me about it, I’m lucky my leg’s the only thing I broke. But it was bad enough to more than make up for being the only damage--bone ripped through the skin and everything.”

“What didja do?” he asked, boosting her higher as she started to slide.

“Limped--well, hobbled is prob’ly better--around til I found a healer. Fortunately didn’t take too long,” she shrugged. “Hadn’t scrapped together enough know-how to fix somethin’ that bad for myself yet.” She wiggled her finger significantly and snorted. “Barely had twenty lyss to my name after payin’ the man. And even with his help, it still scarred real nasty. ‘Bout this long.” She let go with one hand to hold thumb and index finger four or five inches apart in demonstration. “An’ now I have a surefire way of tellin’ when it’s gonna” --a fat, wet droplet hit the back of her neck and made her flinch--”rain.”

Trouble swore as they reached the bottom of the steps and he let her down. “Was hopin’ we’d make it back ‘fore that got here,” he admitted as rain freckled both their shirts.

“You and me both,” Trick said wryly. She grabbed his wrist. The compound was in view down the the far end of the street. “C’mon, if we hurry, maybe we can at least avoid getting completely drenched.”

He laughed and let her tug him into motion, but was nice enough to not outpace her when her limp slowed her down. Which meant they both got drenched when the skies opened up just before they made it through the Shepherd compound gates.

Trouble swore again, but he was grinning when they ducked under the cover of the entrance and he shook water from his hair like a dog.

“Sorry,” Trick said through a laugh, only slightly sheepish, and squeezed water from her braid. “But thanks for the help. And stickin’ with me.”

“Don’t mention it,” he winked, thumping her on the back with one hand while he raked hair out of his eyes with the other. “It’s what you do for friends.”

“Still.” She lightly punched his shoulder. “I appreciate it. And I appreciated even more that you didn’t drop me.”

“Hey, I promised, didn’t I?” Trouble said with a laugh. “Shepherd’s honor an’ all.”

“And I’ve encountered enough people who didn’t keep their word to make me appreciate when someone does.” Trick glanced toward the courtyard, rain now falling in sheets. “You know we still have to make it across that to get to our rooms, right?”

Trouble’s grin widened. “Need another ride?”

Trick’s leg twinged even as thunder rumbled and she snorted a laugh. “Wouldn’t turn it down.”

““Alright, then.”

Neither of them cared if anyone saw their pell-mell run through the downpour for the dormitory wing of the compound, Trick’s arms locked around Trouble’s neck and both laughing the whole way. Trouble kicked the door shut behind them and Trick tightened her grip in a backwards sort-of hug before sliding off.

“Thanks, Trouble,” she grinned, bumping her shoulder to his.

“Welcome, Trick,” he returned, also grinning as he returned the shoulder bump before they headed for their rooms to dry off.

Trick found herself smiling as she stripped off her wet clothes--and not just because her gun had escaped getting wet. While her leg flaring up and then getting rained on wouldn’t have been her first choice for how to break the monotony of patrol, at least handling it with a friend--especially one strong enough to carry her--had kept it from being entirely awful.

Honestly, she had to admit as she dried off and reached for fresh clothes, it had almost (almost) been fun.

#queens fic #shepherds of haven #elyana trick #trouble alder #shoh #not really shippy bc neither of these goofballs has started falling yet #(not that they'll REALIZE when they start falling #she's at least as oblivious as him)

45 notes · View notes

yourlocalauthor · 4 years

Text

Anger Issues- Chapter 4

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: Still no summary

Word count: 1.0k+

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any in this chapter except cursing

A/N: That’s a wrap :) idk i don’t have much to say except i hope you enjoyed

There were pros and cons of skating being your main source of transportation, pros you didn’t have to drive a car therefore less air pollution, you didn’t need to scramble to find money for a car, and it was a pretty cool skill. But the cons, specifically the cons for skating in the Outer Banks were, the roads where you lived, and the roads you needed to take to Pope’s house sucked ass, they were cracked and filled with potholes so one wrong move and you were done, and the other con was skating when you were angry. Because when you were so mad, that you could practically see red it got difficult avoiding the potholes. You weren’t happy either that the sun was setting, it just seemed to add to the whole odds against you thoughts you had going through your head, but you were determined to give JJ a piece of your mind from the past year. As you pulled up to Pope’s home, your anger only seemed to get worse, and it showed when you knocked on the door. You probably shouldn’t have knocked so hard, especially since you respected Heyward so much but again the anger. Heyward opened the door, very upset only to be shocked to see you.

“What the hell are you doing? Do you know what time it is, there is no way I’m letting Pope out at this time.” He said in a very obvious manner. And as much as you adored Heyward, you hated when he spoke to you like that.

“I’m not here for Pope, I heard JJ was staying here and I need to speak to him, if that’s okay. But please don’t tell him it’s me.” You could tell, he wasn’t happy, grumbling about something.

“This can’t wait till morning?”

“Sorry No.”

Heyward shook his head, and shut the door. You could hear him yelling, probably at JJ and not more than moments later did the door swing open and there stood the blond in question.

“Oh shit.”

“Don’t you oh shit me.”

“Sorry.”

You looked at him, trying to think of what to say. You wanted to take this in a calm and nice manner, but you couldn’t help but start to yell at him.

“What the hell JJ? I’m serious what the fuck is your problem. Last year we were so close, and then all of the sudden we’re not, but despite that I let you into my house, let you sleep in my bed, and then I wake up and you’re gone. No thank you, not even a god damn note, and to make matters worse you left my front door open when you know the neighborhood I live in is sketchy. So what the fuck, what the actual fuck is your problem because I’ve ignored it for the past thinking it’d go away which was clearly stupid on my part.”

“Are you serious? You seriously don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

“The party? Getting home?”

“How about instead of trying to jog my memory, you just tell me?”

“Y/N you seriously don’t remember? This isn’t you like fucking with me?”

“Do I really look like, I’m in the mood to fuck with you right now?”

JJ looked like he was about to say something, but he quickly shut his mouth and instead began to look you up and down. You were about to yell at him, but then he spoke.

“We kissed… I mean it was more than a kiss, I guess we were heavily making out and I don’t even know what happened I guess… All I know was you suddenly pushed me off, and started going off on how we couldn’t kiss, and how you didn’t like me, and I guess it hurt my ego… Actually it really did bruise my ego like a lot. I didn’t take it well.”

Suddenly it felt like your whole world was crashing down. You spent the whole of last summer, helplessly falling for JJ, repressing all your feelings for him playing them off like they were just some crush and weren’t important. You’d go to sleep at night desperately not wanting to fall in love with the guy who was slowly starting to become your best friend, trying to find someone else to project these feelings on, only for him to say he liked you back. It felt like your heart was breaking. You had focused so hard on not wanting to even consider being in some sort of relationship with him, that even when you were wasted that’s all you could focus on. And you couldn’t help feeling angry, but this time it wasn’t at anyone, it was at yourself. So angry that you let him get away, how you were so scared of even letting him know how you felt.

“So, you stopped talking to me? Just like that over a bruised ego?”

“I mean yeah… looking back it wasn’t smart. I’m sorry.”

“I know I should forgive you, but I don’t think I can. It really sucked not having you talk to me.”

“I can’t even imagine”

“You’re right you can’t.”

Silence, the two of you just stood there in silence. You kept your eyes focused to the ground, counting the small little pebbles and cracks just trying to avoid the current situation at hand. And then there were arms wrapped around you, and you were caught off guard. You didn’t expect this, and you wanted to push him away and go back on your skateboard and make the way back home. You wanted to never talk to him again, better yet you never wanted to see him again. You wanted to move on from your silly little crush, and ignore him for the rest of your life. But instead you wrapped your arms around him, and let out a soft sigh into his chest. And as much as you wanted to stay angry at him, as much as you wanted to scream and yell at him, you knew it wouldn’t do anyone good. Being angry at the world hadn’t done you any good in the past year, so maybe it was finally time for you to stop being angry at everyone.

@spilledtee @teamnick @sexualparkour @hmspxgue @yeehaw87 @judayyyw @justawilddreamerchild @jjsbaebae @dangerouswhispersblog @jj-maybabe @sortagaysortahigh @softstarkey

#obx #obx fanfiction #obx x reader #jj maybank #jj outer banks #obx jj #jj angst #jj fluff #jj smut #jj imagine #jj x reader #outerbanks #outer banks

40 notes · View notes

the-last-cuddlebender · 4 years

Text

Meet Me by the River

Aang had waited a thousand years to find his family, but they each found him instead.

Ch#1: Tired of being watched, Katara sets a trap and catches a living myth.

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

A/N: Because the world needs atla mythical/fantasy + family soulmate AUs, and I need to warmup my story-driven writing.

************************************** Rating: G (S for shiny)

Words: 3,854

ArchiveOfOurOwn **************************************

The wind chapped Katara’s face and filled her lungs with the sharp smells of all things free and cold—fresh pine from ancient trees that cradled but never bowed to heaps of snow and crisp gusts that licked the mountain peaks and blew in the face of danger. It brushed against the grass and played across the valley in gentle howls of laughter that drew a smile to her lips despite the frustration simmering just under her skin.

Katara slowly exhaled. The river—her river—swelled and threatened to overflow with fresh melt from the mountains. It babbled to her like an old friend trading her its secrets, and it flowed to her will just as readily and naturally as her blood flowed through her body.

Easy now, she chided herself when her water-whip snapped harder than she intended. Just a little bit longer. Can’t let them know that you know they’re here—

A twig snapped. Katara’s back tingled. She growled out of her reverie and nearly lost her focus.

Those thrice-damned eyes were on her again. They were as curious and probing as ever, and when the trees moved when the wind didn’t, Katara knew she wasn’t alone.

Her insides laughed for her, and she struggled not to preen. Her stalker was nearby. Very nearby.

Oh, how she had waited for this.

It’s about time you showed up.

Hiding her smile in a smirk, Katara stilled her katas like she did every day—like how her stalker would recognize. She kept an air of unknowing as she released her stream of bending water. It splashed into the river, and Katara, without missing a beat, jumped in after it. The water was freezing, but she had gone ice-plunging with the boys of her tribe and won enough times to not be bothered by it.

Katara sank to the pebbled river-bottom. She pressed herself into the corner of the river’s wall and braced herself against the current that would have washed her away if she were a weaker woman. The sun was high in the cloudless sky, but the white froth atop the churning water gave her ample cover.

She waterbended a sphere for air around herself, and then she waited.

It was a long while, but a shadow eventually appeared above her.

Katara grinned. There you are.

The shadow grew lighter and darker as the figure—the person who had stalked her to her river in her secret cove to watch her waterbend for weeks—repeatedly crouched and stood where Katara had just been.

They were looking for her.

Good. Katara clenched her fists and tried to stem the heat in her blood as the creep paced up and down the shoreline. Just a little closer…

The shadow stilled and grew the darkest it had gotten yet. The figure was crouching so close to the water that Katara could’ve made out a facial feature or two if she cared.

That’s when she struck. Katara plunged upwards with a burst of waterbending that would have sent her airborne if the stranger’s weight wasn’t there to stop her.

Her target’s surprised yelp rang loud in her ears as she grabbed them. The two of them rolled in the grass for several yards in a wet tangle of limbs. They grappled all the way. Katara struggled to brace herself without loosening her grip. She had miscalculated the size of her stalker. She was expecting a man, but she was rolling with someone barely as big as her and nearly as light as the air itself.

The stranger maneuvered like they were used to escaping these kinds of close-quarter encounters. It was all Katara could do to keep them from darting away; they slipped around like water between her fingers.

But Katara had grown up with a big brother, and she almost laughed when she felt with what ease she pinned the stranger down.

Sokka would have been proud.

“Finally.” Katara laughed as the haze of a catch-well-caught clouded over her. Loose strands of hair stuck to her face in wet clumps, and her clothes were so full of water that they weighed her down. The chill rippling gooseflesh across her skin and numbing the tips of her fingers brought her senses to alert and the world around her into stark relief. Katara would have shivered if victory wasn’t flushing her full of adrenaline. “Can’t run from me, now, creep. I don’t know who you think you are, but if you think you can just—”

Katara swallowed her next words.

Her captive wasn’t a man. He barely looked like he could even think of being a creep.

His stare had felt like a sabretooth-mooselion’s, but he was just a boy. He was maybe a half-head shorter and a year younger than herself.

He struggled for only a second; he froze the instant he realized that his escape wasn’t an immediate option. His eyes widened, his breathing turned shallow, and his heart went from fast to supersonic so suddenly that its frantic thudding echoed into Katara’s palms from where she held him down.

Katara stared. Eyes as grey as a wolf’s coat stared back at her.

The boy shrunk under her attention like a meadowmole beneath an eaglehawk. He shivered but not from the cold—he wasn’t even wearing a shirt—, and he whimpered a small sound that struck a crack into her heart. His trembling showed no sign of stopping and shook up her arms from where she pressed his shoulders to the dirt, and he pressed himself even further down, desperate to put distance between them and trying to become one with the ground.

The wind picked up like it was about to storm even though the sky was clear.

That was when Katara finally noticed the splay of brightly colored feathers on the grass about the boy’s shoulders and head.

Wings...

Those were wings.

Those wings were the boy’s.

The boy’s wings.

The boy had wings.

Katara didn’t mean to shout and didn’t realize she had until her voice echoed back to her. “You have wings!”

The boy cringed from her volume and curled ever further into himself. Katara was sitting on his middle with her hands tacking his shoulders to the ground, so his hands were just free enough to curl up to his chest in fists. He would have curled his legs up, too, if she didn’t have them hooked with her own. His head sank to his shoulders like a turtle retreating into a shell that wasn’t there. He swallowed so thickly that she could see his throat bob.

Then she saw his lip tremble.

Katara let up her grip a bit. The winged-boy took the opportunity of extra movement to curl-up some more and to adjust the wing that was starting to bend at an odd angle.

He spoke, and Katara nearly fell back. His voice oozed into her ears like a song around an open fire.

“...S-Sorry,” he mumbled. “Sorry...Sorry...”

He shrunk ever further. Katara’s jaw dropped ever wider.

“Oh...Oh, no, it’s—it’s okay. You’re not—I mean, I didn’t know you were, y’know, and I was just bending and I thought you—but you aren’t—but that doesn’t make sense either because the Fire Nation and there’s not any...any...”

Katara shifted her weight and bit her lip. She froze when even that small movement made his eyes gloss over with tears. His hands trembled and tightened their fists, and the pure, unfiltered terror he leaked into the air had a dozen pairs of hands squeezing her heart and lungs into dust.

Instinct kicked in, and Katara’s voice became as soft as his hiccup made her insides. “Hey, hey, hey, shhhhh...,” she cooed. “Easy, easy. Shhh...It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” She slowly—very slowly as not to startle him—released his shoulders and leaned back. “Shhhhh, shhh, shhh…It’s okay. It’s okay. Shhh...I’m not going to hurt you.”

The boy—the skybender—beneath her tucked into himself as soon as the opportunity was presented. He eyed her warily, though he seemed to have been tamed by something she said or did. Katara smiled in what she hoped he would see as a non-threatening gesture, and she held her hands out, palms up.

“See? I’m not going to hurt you.” She slowly uncrossed her legs from his and prayed he wouldn’t bolt. He didn’t move, though he looked at her like she was trying to convince him that the sky wasn’t blue. “I’m going to get up now, okay? Is that okay? If I move?”

He blinked several times, even more confused and processing her words like they were a new flavor of some food he had never tasted.

“Up?”

A chill danced up Katara’s neck and warmed the pit of her belly. His voice was like a song—like the air was happy to carry his words and garnished them especially for him. The element’s love for its master—its last master—bled into every part of her.

Katara swallowed, and though there was quiet for an awkward moment, it wasn’t silent.

“Y—Y-Yeah. I mean, yes. Up. Yes, up. Is up okay?”

He nodded very, very slowly; Katara got off him even slower. She sat at his side and kept her hands in front of her with her palms up. He sat up after a long second, and Katara bent down a bit, putting her eye-level just below his, to make herself less threatening. A mountain rolled off her shoulders when he relaxed a fraction of a fraction.

That’s when she finally got a good look at him. The skybender wore no shirt or shoes, but he didn’t look worse for wear without them. He wore dark pants that looked more like abused burlap than cloth but reminded her of how Gran-Gran described the skybenders’ flowing robes in the stories. On his right forearm was a wrapping of bandages from his palm to a few inches before his elbow. He clutched it to his chest—which was also wrapped in something like bandages around his upper torso—, but he protected it like it was something precious rather than something wounded.

His arrowed tattoos wound around his limbs and head and were a striking shade of blue that Katara had never seen before. She almost got a sense of deja vu from looking at them. Their color was not of this world or reality.

His wings—Spirits, he had wings—, though splayed rather large when he was down, were nearly flat against his back now. They, too, were a color her mind struggled to process and place. If she looked away and looked back, her mind had already tossed aside the anomaly as a hallucination before being affronted by its beauty again. The feathers were plush and soft on her eyes, and she could only imagine how soft they were to the touch. Orange ombre dark at his shoulder and lighter towards tips that she could no longer see took her breath away.

And then there were his eyes again. They were steely grey like blades clashing, and they glanced about her just as sharply, though they were warm and inviting like his every look was a shy hug.

“Um...hello.” Katara waved her fingers. The skybender flinched but didn’t move away. She shifted for an awkward second before tapping her chest and speaking slowly. “My name is Katara.”

The skybender cocked his head like a hound to a high pitch. He gave her a curious glance-over but otherwise didn’t react.

Katara’s smile faded. “You don’t understand a word I’m saying. Do you.”

It wasn’t a question, and she didn’t get an answer. Although, at the change of her tone to something teetering on sad, he did perk up a bit. He looked around, searching for what was making her upset, but he looked not like he was hoping to brace himself from the danger but rather like he was preparing to fend it off.

If she didn’t know any better, Katara would have thought he was being protective. She smiled a bit at the thought, and she smiled even wider when the ghosted shadow of a smile tugged the corners of his lips, too.

Katara shifted so she sat on her knees. They sat in silence. The wind was lazy but blowing in every direction at once, and Katara couldn’t shield herself from its gentle breezes no matter how she turned.

The boy kept rubbing the bandages on his forearm and palm and looking her up and down like this would be the only time he would ever see her. He shifted just as much as her, and Katara tried her best not to gawk too openly at his wings when they fluttered and shifted with him.

After another shiver, Katara had enough of the cold. She bent the water out of her clothes and hair and fed it back into the river with a move so second-nature that she hardly thought about it.

The skybender gasped so loudly that it startled her. His smile could melt the glacier Katara grew up on, and his giddy laugh punched the wind out of her while also making her feel whole—like he had just charged into her with a hug after searching his whole life to find her.

His eyes met hers again, and his shyness settled back over his features and curled him into himself. His eyes were pleading and glancing at her hands like he couldn’t control where he looked.

“Tideteller?” the boy said in a tone like a question.

“Tideteller? Oh, well, technically, yeah, but no one’s called waterbending that in centuries—” He looked at her a little lost, and Katara cleared her throat. Small words. “I mean, yes. Yes, tideteller.”

The boy nodded like he was telling someone she couldn’t see that he was right, but his eyes still found their way to her hands.

Katara prayed to every spirit she could think of. She had no idea what the hell to do. There was a living, breathing skybender right in front of her, and she didn’t want to—

“Aang.”

Katara shook herself. “What?”

The skybender tapped his chest again. “Aang. Skybender Aang.” He hesitated and glanced at her hands again before extending his own bandaged one, palm up. He looked suddenly nervous. “Tideteller?”

Aang. Katara rolled his name over her mind and tucked it into her memory so that she may remember it even if this was all a dream. She tapped her chest. “Katara. Tideteller Katara.” She extended her hand as he had, and she didn’t expect or understand why the small gesture made Aang as giddy as it did. She didn’t question it, though.

“Katara…” Aang looked away in thought. He subconsciously folded into a crossed-legged position, but his shoulders sagged in a relaxed way that let Katara breathe again. He still kept his bandaged arm close and protected against his center. He held his chin in his hand. “Katara…” He perked up like a child with a new toy, and, based on his expression, Katara couldn’t believe that he hadn’t known her his whole life. “Katara!”

Katara laughed, and Aang looked at her like he was witnessing a miracle. “It’s nice to meet you too, Aang.”

Aang blushed as she said his name, and Katara would be damned if it wasn’t the cutest thing she had ever seen.

“Can you…,” Katara began, choosing her words carefully, “Can Aang understand Katara?”

Aang paused and thought before shrugging a so-so motion. “Eh. Small spoke.” He pinched his thumb and first finger together. “Much small spoke.”

His voice had something like an accent that wasn’t quite an accent, and Katara never wanted to hear more of something in her entire life.

She gesticulated to make up for words that she didn’t know if he knew or not. “Was Aang watching Katara?”

Aang blushed again. He looked away, suddenly finding the grass very interesting. He fiddled a loose fold on his abused pants and made a gentle hush sound as he adjusted his weight and his wings. “...Maybe.”

Katara cocked her head to make it known that she was asking a question. “Why?”

Aang blushed even harder, and Katara, as a healer, habitually worried for his health. “...nhy,” he mumbled.

Katara leaned closer. Aang’s head sank between his shoulders, and he fiddled faster with the fold in his pants as he met her eyes.

Katara struggled to simplify her words. “Can you—Can Aang spoke again?”

Aang swallowed. “K’tara...shiny…” He tapped his throat and pointed to the water. “...lots of with water, too.”

It was Katara’s turn to blush, and she struggled so very hard not to laugh. The winged skybender—a living relic of a people honored and revered as almost demigods in the thousand years since their slaughter—had stalked her for near months because he liked her mother’s shiny necklace and the shiny ripples of the water she bended.

“Well,” she paused to clear her throat and swallow her laugh. Thankfully, Aang didn’t notice, “Well, there’s no need for Aang to hide. Katara doesn’t bite. Does Aang want to sit here and watch Katara?”

It took Aang a minute to process so many words, but the moment he understood, his smile nearly blinded her. His wings fluttered so quickly that he nearly left the ground. “Yes! Much yes! Much!”

Katara struggled to hold back her laugh again, but she couldn’t stop a grin. Aang smiled wider, and his eyes got even wider as she rolled her wrist and called the water out of the river to flow between herself and her new friend. She molded it into a small globe and angled it just right so that it projected the suns’ rays in a thousand fractals of light. Even the smooth stone of her mother’s polished betrothal necklace gleamed in the reflection.

Aang pawed the ground with his unbandaged arm and stared in absolute awe. His wings unfurled into a feathered display of warm colors—reminding her of sunsets over calm ocean waters—before curling flush against his back again. Katara had to remind herself to keep her focus when they did. His wingspan was massive, but it made sense that it would be if his wings truly were able to hold him aloft.

Katara bent the water into a pyramid that yielded a rainbow. Aang was beside himself with joy.

Katara relaxed and tried not to preen too much when Aang scooted closer to her. She couldn’t help but feel a little proud of being able to earn his trust so easily. Although, it was probably more to the credit of Aang wanting her trust long before they officially met.

She twirled the water around his head in an overhead flare. His laugh danced about her as her thoughts were already making plans to meet him by the river tomorrow.

Aang leaned to keep the water as close to his face as possible, and he didn’t realize he was leaning too much until he fell forward. He plunged face-first through the water and severed Katara’s connection to it. He had scooted so close to her at that point that both himself and Katara’s lap got soaked, but Katara caught the two of them before they fell flat on the grass.

Aang sheepishly looked up at her. His wings drooped like the ears of a polarbeardog, and his eyes were just as effective.

“Sorry, K’tara…”

Katara didn’t try to hide it anymore. She laughed long and loud, full and hearty, and she welcomed how much it hurt. She struggled not to buckle over, especially with Aang in her arms, but she couldn’t stop the stream of giggles that rippled into her attempts to breathe.

...She didn’t see the way Aang lost his breath and melted to ooze in her arms. Her shining smile lit up his world like nothing had ever done before, no matter how far or how long he searched, and it warmed him from head to toe like he knew nothing else ever could. And when her peels of laughter grew tired and heavy with joy that pooled into her eyes—her eyes that were looking at and drawing joy from him—he felt like he was flying the closest to the sun that he had ever gotten, and he wanted nothing more than to fly as close to her as he could.

His palm throbbed, and he struggled not to itch it through its wrappings. The beautiful tideteller—Katara—had dusted out one of the holes in his soul that had festered for a thousand years, Aang would have cried and begged her to fill it if he wasn’t smiling so much, too.

Though, he couldn’t stop his eyes from glossing over with hot tears when she waved her hand—that hand—and telled the water off of them. He could see it even clearer at this distance. It glowed on her palm even though it wasn’t visible on her skin yet.

She stood and extended it to him. He stared up at her for the longest time, unable to move.

Then she reached for his hand and took it herself, and she brought him to his feet. Her palm felt oddly warm in his, and he shivered when he felt the connection there. Katara didn’t seem to notice what the feeling was from when she felt it herself. She just smiled some more.

And then, with her hand holding his, Katara pulled him into a hug.

Her arms wrapped around him. Aang shifted and tried not to jump into her touch when she brushed his wings. Her hug was shy but welcoming, an unspoken question of sorts. An open door. An invitation.

She pulled away sooner than he would have liked. Her words reached him like she was speaking to him through water. “Sorry...e e m...lke...Aang...n e eded one.”

His vision grew as blurry as if he truly was underwater. And when next her arms wrapped around him—a complete stranger to her even though she was so much a part of him—Aang held her back just as tightly and let his tears fall.

She held his hand, almost subconsciously, for the rest of their time together, just talking and learning off of each other. She didn’t even notice when he shyly held her tighter. She just scooted closer.

Aang itched his wrapped palm out of habit rather than need and didn’t let himself cry until Katara left an hour later as the sun was setting. He didn’t understand what she said in parting, but her voice was hopeful and her last hug felt like a promise.

Aang sat at the riverside with the wind curling around him like an excited old friend ready to carry his secrets.

He cried some more when his palm no longer itched, and he held it to his heart like he might brand himself the feeling of finally being found after being lost for a thousand years.

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

Goodness gracious my story-driven writing is so crusty and rusty it isn’t even funny.

I hope you enjoyed it, though!

(I want to call Aang a harpy, but I grew up with a lot of yugioh and can’t think of the word without thinking of the show:c So I tried to make something up for this AU instead. Thank you @demigodavenger for helping me, though! I very much appreciate it!)

#kataang #aang #katara #avatar the last airbender #gaang love #platonic soulmate au #mythical creature au #gaang family #i wrote this as a stretch of sorts for an atla/tlok crossover im writing so i didnt have any kinks in it and lawdy am i glad i did #fanfiction #post #ao3 #myfanfictiontag #repost because UP YOURS TOO TUMBLR #>:c #myAUtag

16 notes · View notes

ashley-jones · 3 years

Text

The Kings Mate

Chapter 16

Reliving A Life That Can’t Be Back

This a memory chapter, going through Luna’s state while living on the street and into the orphanage. After each picture is a different portion of her life.

Small feet hit the soaked and crumbled cement, cries of a girl and screams from men echoed across the walls of london. Rain hitting the ground like pebbles, noises running through her ears. Bruises covering her small body, and the only thing keeping her innocence alive was the white dress that had been ripped tattered. Feet scrambled and finally her small body fell to the floor a small cry leaving her lips. The girl no older than the age of 6 was gripping tightly onto a black bag, smell of fresh bread filling her small nose.

A group of homeless men surrounded her small collapsed body, smirking and laughing as they yanked the bag from her hand. The one thing that kept the small girl alive and somewhat healthy, was yanked from her hands. She tried to stand and yank it back but she was only thrown back against the wall; her head colliding with the wall causing her body to once more collapse.

“Oi! Leave the kid alone.” A deep voice came out. It echoed through the alley way. The men turned around coming to face a shorter male with her black hair and silver blue eyes. His face was stoic, filled with no emotions, and a knife could be seen within his belt. It was obvious he was homeless, but yet he seemed to take care of himself quite well. “Hah! Whatcha gonna do about it huh?!” one of the men rang out. He burst into laughter before gasping as a fist collided with the back of his head. He fell eyes filled with surprise, and quickly looked back at the shorter male seeing him standing in front of the child, protecting her.

“I said leave her alone.” The male growled. He grabbed the bag setting it on the unconscious females lap and pulled out his knife. He spun it in his grasp and was quick with his work putting each of the men in their places; and watched them run in fear never to bother the girl again. “Tch..Disgusting..” he growled, looking at the blood on his white sleeves. He then looked back at the girl, and slowly picked her extremely light figure up and walked elsewhere.

The girl shifted and and noticed she was laying on a coat of sort. Her small figure shifted and slowly pushed herself up, noticing she was in a home; most likely adandoned. She took notice of her bad sitting right beside her. Hadn’t it been taken? She touched her head wincing slightly not exactly remembering what happened to it.. “your finally awake.” A deep voice stated. The voice made her flinch and she looked over quickly finally noticing the male standing against the wall and looking outside. “Your lucky I was passing by that alley. If not you’d been raped and murdered.” he stated. His voice was stotic, with no emotions, but for some reason she felt drawn to it. He looked about 20 or so, but yet still young. He was shorter and quite strained in his outfit; making him look a bit unfitting for someone who was homeless. She slowly stood up before gasping and falling back down, her feet hurt.. She looked down noticing her feet were bandaged, along with her hands and wrists. “T-thank you..” she whispered.

He just hummed and turned to her, making his way over and kneeling to check her bandages. “How long have you been out there huh?” he questioned. “4 years...” she whispered. She remembered the day her parents dumped her on the streets, she wasn’t even old enough to form a whole sentence yet.. “I was 2 years old..An older woman helped me for about 2 years; and then she died..Then I was alone..” she explained. Her voice was small and weak, showing off her fearful state. He hummed listening to the small girl explain herself. “You saved me...But yet i don’t know your name..” she whispered. “Levi.” He mumbled. “L-Levi...” she repeated. It put a smile on her face when she said it.

“Oi! What’re you doing?” the male called out. A small girl stood on the steps of the abandoed home, standing slightly taller, and her hair was longer. She smiled turning around looking at the male. “Enjoying the sun! We don’t get it very often here..Constant rain..” she mumbled. She jumped down off the steps and walked back inside smiling, and sitting down against the sheets; watching the male handle his holsters. He said they helped keep his clothes more cleaner, but she believed that just made him look more taller.. As the male was only 5’2, most likely due to malnutrition, as she was the same way. She had once more ran away from the orphanage that had taken her and joined the male. He would constantly scold her for doing so, but yet still argued severely with the men that would try and take her. He felt more matured on taking care of the girl, able to train her.

“Levi..Someomes close by..” she whispered. He looked towards her and then stood up straight after zipping up his boots, he pointed towards the girl mentioning for her to stay put. In which she nodded and pushed herself back until she was against the wall, watching as the older male walked out of the house placing his blade in his belt. She jumped at the sound of a yell and then flinched when she noticed who the yell came from. The orphanage owner...He had come to retrieve her once more.. She quickly hid in one of the many places Levi had created. She didn’t want to go back to those awful, and abusive place. Filled with kids that were greedy and helpless. They hurt her because she was small, did everything they could just to break her..Hell every time she ran r get back to Leavi she was filtered with bruises and brand new wounds covering her body. Which fueled his anger so much more every time he saw the owner.

“I’ll kill you.” the black haired male growled. He was held back by another man while staring daggers at the older grey haired man who gripped the girl tightly by her arm. “She has a family that’s interested in her. Meaning we will no longer have to deal with the useless running, and no longer have to deal with her running to a theif.” The male stated. The idea pissed the boy off even more. He wanted the girl by his side, with his protection and skills. Not by some useless family that won’t be able to do anything for her; other than just throw her away like her past one did. “I don’t wanna go!!” The girl cried. She struggled against the man crying out the boys name but to no release she was taken away.

The teen stood there with her arms crossed, she refused to touch the bow that sat in front of her. The old male talking over and over about nonsense that she could care less about. She was taken from London and moved into Japan with a family of Higurashi. Taken from the man that protected and trained her. Taken from the person she didn’t wish to leave. And now the old man was trying to teach of old ways of fighting; when she preferred using her fists and a blade.

Her eyes moved towards two swords, the Higurashi’s daughter was playing around with them. She was a year younger than her. She just turned away and began walking away, no longer interested. “She’s getting used to it grandpa..” the girls stated. ‘I wanna go back home..’ she thought. ‘I’m not meant to be here..’ she stated within her mind.

Red strands fell over brown eyes as she stared at the ice that had formed at her hands. The silver haired male screaming in her head letting her know that there was nothing wrong with her, while others thought different. “It’s not normal..” she whispered. The growl filling her ears after she had said that. The mans voice going silent finally leaving her in piece.

She had learned to cut out memories, lock them away to never think of them again. Because god knows if she’d ever be able to get back into London. She couldn’t afford it, and she damn knew this family couldn’t. “Finally shut up..That’s surprising.” she mumbled. She walked out of the bathroom and gathered herself in her room like she always has.

“Hah Lord Sesshomaru!” the teen called out. She smiled brightly quickly catching up with male. He looked over and down towards the girl. “You got here later than you had said.” He stated. His voice was stern, just like another’s. That’s why she was so attracted to the demon, he reminded her of the one that trained her. “Yes..Kagome was being a bit of a nag and I couldn’t get here as quick..” she explained softly. He just hummed keeping his eyes forward, allowing the imp and ice wielder to argue amongst each other.

“If I were to continue traveling with you Sesshomaru, what role would I play in the West?” she asked softly. “Foolish girl!! Your only human which means you won’t live long enough to see the west!” Jaken yelled. The girl just ignored him and looked up Sesshomaru, following beside him. “Depends on how long you decide to stay by my side.” he stated. His voice monotone, but also held something deeper. She smiled and nodded placing her arms behind her back. “I will follow you til the end of my days milord!” she stated. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, in only mere seconds and it was gone. “Good. Keep to your word.” he stated.

Fingers trailing through her hair, droplets of water dripping onto the pearled sink. Strands no longer white but now dyed back to the reddish brown, allowing her confidence to regain. Brown eyes staring into brown, her own reflection staring at her as if she was a stranger. She just shook her head and walked out of the bathroom drying her hair with her towel. ‘Go to the well.’ Spoke InuTaisho.

She lowered her towel and sighed putting on a pair of black ripped skinny jeans, black hoodie, and a pair of combat boots. She grabbed her phone and walked out of her room making her way downstairs, and out of the house; making her way to the well. “Why do I need to come here..? I thought you didn’t want me to have anything to do with it..” she mumbled. She stepped inside the shrine and slid the door shut crossing her arms and looking at the well. “What am I supposed to do?” She asked. ‘Go.’ he stated. A bright blue lightly surrounded her and yanked her body inside the well and dragged her inside, a scream leaving her lips.

5 notes · View notes

gdotsand · 4 years

Text

The Fastest Way Back Home - Prologue

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader (Post Infinity War)

Summary - A collection of memories sprinkled along the road to regain what she lost.

Word Count -1,400 (ish)

Playlist Link - Link (will be updated as more chapters are added)

Warnings - Sadness. Angst. Bad jokes regarding muffins.

A/N - I really wanted my first published Bucky series to be happy, I really did. I fought my brain so hard but this was the first work in progress it allowed me to finish for him. I’m sorry in advance? I honestly get physical chest pains from writing this story because it also makes me sad but I will promise you happy endings and it wont (hopefully) all make you wanna curl into a ball and listen to sad songs. Likes, reblogs and feedback is always appreciated. Also big shoutout to Lara (it wont let me tag you), thank you for encouraging me to post this finally and listen to my ramblings. You’re the real MVP. Thank you - G.Sand

Present

He'd always said that the water calmed him, the darkness lapping against the small dock. One of the main reasons he'd thrust a pros and cons list into her hand the night after viewing the house. Top of the list, the water.

There were many other things on the list, a tree that seemed like it had grown specifically for a treehouse to be constructed against the thick branches.

A living room big enough if they pushed back the furniture he would be able to twirl her around barefoot as the record player in the corner softly played old country vinyls her grandfather left her when he passed.

A wrap around porch, sure it needed some work, some of the slats have fallen though, but he promised to replace them, whitewash them and share lazy Sunday afternoons drinking fresh lemonade and watching the sun disappear beyond the horizon.

It felt like a life time ago, sometimes, most of the time it felt like a fever dream. Calloused fingers against her jaw line, the slipping of a golden band onto her finger, her doing the same for him. Bright smiles and her mother softly wiping the tears from her cheeks. Promises of forever and always, promises of a future beyond the hurt and loss that lingered deep within his bones.

Promises of all perfect and beautiful things that would now never come true. Promises of a life away from bloodshed and fear. Away from anger and torment. Everything turned to dust that day, breathy whispers at some ungodly hour, promises, commands, vows, everything including the man she loved turned to dust, and she had no idea.

Sometimes she could pretend, pretend he was on a regular mission, or he'd gone out to a meeting or to the store. Because he was ever present in her home, their home. The photos that adorn the walls, his jacket is still on the hook by the door, weapons safe still locked. It can only be opened by a retinal scan that now didn't exist in the world. Tony he said he can override it, find a way to disable his own systems but she declined. What was the point anymore? What was the point in anything anymore?

So she looks out at the water. Watches as the sun starts to set, another day has been added to the tally marks somewhere etched into the walls of her brain. Filed away, so she wouldn't be able to recall an exact number if asked, but still enough to keep a permanent hole in her chest since that day. Its been almost five years, and Betsy is bordering on her birthday, and she wants, she prays that she can believe that Betsy is a happy child but it always feels like something is missing. Its in the depths of her eyes, in the dark curls that sit on top of her head a question that will forever go unanswered, at least not completely. Because no sweetheart your daddy isn't coming home and no bugs he was never home to begin with. Not really, not with both of his girls. So she take things day by day and who can blame her? Honestly what else do people expect. Not that theres many people left to judge her that is. So to hell with it.

If he was here, he'd tell her to buck up. She knows that, but even Tony dare not make that joke. He'd tell her that everything happens for a reason and that everything will work out in the end. But thats Bucky all over, and Bucky isn't here.

The light shifts into something reminiscent of artwork purple and oranges splayed across the horizon, and a smooth pebble is thrown into the icy darkness, it skips across the water at speed and disturbs the darkness, but eventually like everything else the ripples dissipate into nothingness again.

"See kiddo, it's all in the wrist" Tony says, and Betsy listens, she idolises her uncle Tony more than he can know however it's not lost on anyone else. Eager to please Betsy takes the second stone from his outstretched palm, skims it across the surface of the water and it bounces once, twice, three times before eventually sinks, and Betsy squeals as she hoisted into the air in celebration. Y/n could listen to the sound of her laugh till her dying day and never get bored of hearing that little girl enjoy the freedom of happiness, but y/n? She allows herself a smile and turns back to the water, because you know, it always said it calmed him.

Steve approaches slowly behind, careful not to make her jump in the process, spends a good minute or two just watching her. She's never been the same since the snap, okay, no one has been the same since the snap but out of everyone, he thinks that maybe y/n had it the worst. And sure he may be being an overdramatic asshole as Buck might have said once upon a time but Buck's not here to reprimand him. Even if he can hear his taunt somewhere far away, carried on the winds that come from wherever he is.

"He was right you know"

Steve hums at her as a response, an explanation waiting on the other-side of her tongue that for some reason needs to know that Steve is listening before y/n continues.

"It's pretty fucking calming when you think about it"

He hums again, but it's more of an amused tone.

"I came to talk to you specifically before we do this" he says, always a man to get right to the point is Steve Rogers, there is no proverbial bush and he'll be damned if he beats around it.

"Well I assumed you didn't come here just for my muffins Steve"

"You're a married woman can we not talk about your muffins"

"Ah, no one is talking about my muffins these days" and then earns her a chuckle at least. She's always had a way with words like that, always been the one to crack the jokes. First to make light of a situation that really doesn't need it.

"We can get him back, well" he swallows but continues "we can get all of them back, but we're going to bring him back y/n"

Y/N rolls her eyes and takes a couple of steps off the dock towards the house, "Don't make promises that you can't cash Rogers i'm not in the mood" she throws over her shoulder. It only takes half as many steps for Steve to catch up and stop her with a hand on her shoulder. There are already tears in her eyes, and it's a knee jerk reaction. Because she remembers the day that Steve had made that promise to her before, years ago.

5 Years Ago

The house was too quiet, the kind of quiet that strikes fear like a match in the pit of your stomach. The hollow feeling that just something, somewhere isn’t right. There are no books to read, no work to be done, no shows to watch and no mindless task that she can do that will keep her brain from thinking the inevitable. It’s always the case yet it never gets any easier.

Washing done, book shelves back into the correct organisation system. Dinner being planned in her subconscious because she has to keep that hope, that preyer that there will be dinner. There will be another set of feet under the table, a light too minimal conversation to be had and a head on the pillow next to hers at the end of the day.

But then there’s gravel crunching under tires, there’s one, two, three car doors being slammed and three pairs of out of sync footsteps growing closer to the front door. Three sets of footsteps isn’t good. She knows this. She knows as she crosses to the front door, pulls it open and meets the eyes of his best friend. Although she had known that at some point, this day might come, it makes the horror no less scary. It doesn’t make the gravel any less sharp on her knees as her breaths come quicker and Steve arms aren’t quick enough to react. To catch her before she falls.

She can see it reflected in the gaze of Nat that he’s not coming home, that something terrible, something unimaginable has happened.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat that he prayed wouldn’t be there by the time he got out of the car.

“We’ll get him back Y\N. We’re going to bring him back”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #Bucky Barnes #the fastest way back home #gee writes things #i'm so sorry...#bucky

16 notes · View notes

kd-holloman · 3 years

Text

First Line Tag Game!

I was tagged by the wonderful @writingamongther0ses! Thank you so much! As much as I’d love to use my first lines from Oh, Hell, they aren’t that great. So, I’m going to give the first lines of The Traveler’s Gift!

Chapter One:

Jerry Reubinault knew he was going to die.

Chapter Two:

A dizzying array of colors flashed behind his eyes as his head hit the pavement. The sharp sting of asphalt cut through the muted sensation of his limbs as his elbow scraped across the ground.

Chapter Three:

Louis had been in the twenty-first century for six days and he liked Rodney. No matter how bad things got, he always looked at the bright side of things. If it was raining he’d look up at the sky and say, “We could be baking in the sun.” If they were hungry he’d say, “That hunger means we’re still alive.” If someone shouted obscene things at them through their car window he would say, “Sometimes people need to vent.”

Chapter Four:

The first thing Louis learned about the man running the O’Shea mafia was that his parents must have hated him. His honest-to-God name was Rick O’Shea. The second thing he discovered was that Rick had inherited his father’s reign at a fairly young age.

Chapter Five:

Louis tossed what little remained of his cigarette to the glass and pebble strewn pavement. It bounced, sparked, and rolled to a stop. He couldn’t sit beneath the overpass, breathing in the stink of exhaust fumes for another minute. “I’ll be back in the morning, Rodney.”

Chapter Six:

Louis couldn’t tell if he was awake or dreaming. Everything felt far away, but simultaneously too close. If he held his hand up in front of his face he couldn’t tell how far away it was from his nose. His palm was blurry. The lines creasing his skin reminded him of smudged ink on a freshly written letter.

Chapter Seven:

Drip, 347. Drip 348. Drip 349.

Chapter Eight:

“What do you say?”

Chapter Nine:

Louis paced his cell. He had no way to entertain himself. So, he spent his time wandering around aimlessly from corner to corner. He was growing frustrated.

Chapter Ten:

Hours passed. At least, it felt like hours. It had to have been hours because Louis’s head no longer felt like it was full of wet cement and he could slog his way from one end of the room to the other without tripping over his damned feet.

Chapter Eleven:

For the first time since his arrival to the twenty-first century, Louis finally had the chance to experience it without being hurt, drugged, or homeless. It gave him the opportunity to explore the era the way he wanted. He got to try technology he’d never dreamed of. Things had changed dramatically in the past ninety-something years. The way people talked, listened to stories, and enjoyed music had all changed. He was just now becoming familiar with the technology and trying it out for himself.

Chapter Twelve:

“My, oh, my. Don’t you clean up nice.”

Chapter Thirteen:

Louis liked a lot of things. For instance, he liked strawberry jam on his toast, he liked to watch people, and he liked that he had hundreds of options for television at his disposal. He also hated a lot of things. He hated menthol cigarettes, raw onion, and listening to some palooka talk himself up when he was really full of shit.

Chapter Fourteen:

The blood on the plastic was so thick and dark it seemed black.

Chapter Fifteen:

Almost a week after [Redacted]’s death, Louis sat at the table and played solitaire. It was a game that required just enough thought that it kept him from hearing the horrible wet sound as [Redacted]’s heart had been ripped from his chest.

Chapter Sixteen:

The precinct smelled of old coffee and body odor.

Chapter Seventeen:

The benefit for the police department was a formal affair. It consisted of wrinkle-free navy tablecloths, white-linen napkins, crystal long-stemmed glasses, and some of the city’s wealthiest people pretending to get along for just a few hours as they shamelessly donated obscene amounts of money to the cause.

Chapter Eighteen:

By the time Louis had cleaned up Slater’s mess, both he and Ardford were long gone. He asked the bartender where he’d gone and he’d been pointed in the direction of a side door not too far from the bar.

Chapter Nineteen:

Slater stood in front of Louis. “If you didn’t have bad luck, you wouldn’t have any at all. What happened?”

Chapter Twenty

Louis went straight to his bedroom when he got home. He didn’t think he could stand the metallic stink on his clothes for another minute. He stripped out of his shirt. The blood splattered down its front had dried a burgundy-brown color.

Chapter Twenty-One

“You’re kind of a hypocrite, y’ know that?” Louis asked. He juggled bags of Thai takeout while Damien was slurping from a box of noodles as they walked. “You’re always talking about eating healthy and cooking at home, but you’re the first person to suggest eating pizza, tacos, or whatever this stuff is.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

The act of spying was to observe furtively.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The following afternoon Louis sat elbow-to-elbow with Slater and Damien at Rick’s dining room table. The conversation was a murmur. There was too much underlying tension for it to grow and swell. It felt like the dry, burning, heat of summer being cut with the sharp chilling breeze of a cold front before a nasty storm. Nobody knew why they’d been called together, but Louis had a good feeling that it had to do with [Redacted]’s betrayal.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Louis had never been one for waiting. He had never wanted to wait for his punishments as a kid. He had always wanted them to be over as quickly as possible. He hadn’t wanted to wait for Christmas because excitement had him eager to tear into the brown wrapping on his gifts as soon as possible. He’d hated patrolling the trenches in France because he had known an attack was coming, but had hated holding his breath, waiting for it to come.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Have I ever told you that you’re annoying?” Slater asked. It was the night of the Quench delivery and he seemed unconcerned as he sat on a crate. He kicked the wood beneath him with the heels of his red and white Chucks.

Chapter Twenty-Six:

The dark silence of the night pressed heavily around him. The flickering of the votive and tea light candles were the only source of light in the church. It made the shadows seem darker, more ominous, alive. They made the watchful eye of Christ behind the pulpit seem even more damning.

Chapter Twenty-Seven:

[Redacted]’s parents held a quiet funeral for their son a few days after his death; at least, that was what Louis had been told. He hadn’t attended. None of them had.

Chapter Twenty-Eight:

“I’m out of coffee and this is stupid,” Slater complained. “This is bitch work. I don’t do bitch work.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine:

The next night, Louis found himself standing across the street from Tito’s Pizza.

Chapter Thirty:

Louis’s head was throbbing to each knock on the door. He groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. Pain jolted him awake as his arm touched the bruised and tender flesh of his swollen eye. He swore and sat up.

Chapter Thirty-One:

Louis wasn’t a fan of spiders. They had too many legs, too many eyes, and moved too damned fast. He hated them when they touched him and hated it even more when he found them in the shower.

Chapter Thirty-Two:

“What did you mean when you said Rick had fooled you before?” Louis asked. He checked his gun to make sure it was full of rounds and made sure he had enough spare ammunition in his pocket. He knew Deuce wouldn’t be stupid enough to do a job empty-handed. Especially, knowing that Rick was looking for him.

Chapter Thirty-Three:

“Louis? Wake up.” Clammy fingers pressed against his cheek.

Chapter Thirty-Four:

Louis’s life was spinning out of control again. He was lost. Knowing that Slater was in the bowels of the hospital while he was confined to the waiting room felt wrong. And there was nothing he could do to change it.

Chapter Thirty-Five:

All it took was a jump a few blocks from the apartment building and a quick check of the junk mail in the mailboxes on the front of the duplex porch to figure out which one belonged to Wes the Weasel.

Chapter Thirty-Six:

Louis didn’t have anywhere else to go. So, after Slater was settled into his room at the hospital, he curled up in one of the chairs in the corner of the room and let himself fall asleep.

Chapter Thirty-Seven:

That night, when the nursing staff told Louis visiting hours were over, Slater insisted that he stay.

Sorry for the long read! I’d like to tag (with no pressure): @howdy-writes, @littlerothridinghood, @gloriafrimpong, @gwens-fiction, @goblingraveyard, @vivian-is-writing

#the traveler's gift #tag games

3 notes · View notes