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semisgroupie · 8 months

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if i fall from the heavens, my new shelter shall be your tender embrace

fallen angel!getou suguru x angel!fem. reader

wc: 2.5k

warnings: HEAVILY sacrilegious, manipulation, coercion, unprotected sex, creampie, virginity loss, fingering (f!receiving), corruption, public sex, sex in a church, slight dubcon, betrayal, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), slight overstimulation, a little blood (quick mention), tears

synopsis: he’s lost you once and he won’t let it happen again

a/n: the art in the banner is the fallen angel by alexandre cabanel

After Satan’s rebellion against God, many things had changed. There was an uneasiness in the air and it seemed as though every angel in Heaven walked on thin ice that could crack at any second.

You were careful, every movement and action was methodical and rehearsed in your head a million times. Your lover was the opposite. Suguru wasn’t careful, he spoke his mind and was open about losing his faith in the almighty. A loss of faith turned into anger and then turned into confrontation which led to the worst moment you could possibly think of. Suguru was cast down to hell and it felt like your heart shattered into pieces.

Days passed and the ache in your chest never settled. As time passed you yearned for your lover, you missed the crinkle near his eyes whenever a smile was thrown your way, you missed the way he said your name softly, and you missed how he set your skin ablaze with just a simple touch.

More time passed and you were convinced you’d never hear from him or stumble upon him. You thought that it must not have been in God’s blueprint for you two to cross paths ever again. Why would God want you to see Suguru again anyway? He was tainted with a loss of faith and an impure heart while you oozed purity and holiness. But it never stopped your search.

Every single day you went to an abandoned church. The abandoned church was somewhere Suguru took you so you two could pretend to be normal humans with minds full of curiosity. You went again today and sat down on one of the dusty pews to recite the same prayer. You prayed that you’d have the chance to see Suguru just one more time, even if it was just for a millisecond. You were also convinced your prayer fell on deaf ears.

“Amen.” You let out a small sigh and slowly stood up then quickly turned when you heard a floorboard creak. Your eyes widened at the man that stood at the cobweb covered entrance. “Suguru?” The light that reflected off of him made him look like an angel but as he stepped closer to you, a gasp left your throat.

His wings that were once white were black, as if his old wings had been washed and tarnished with soot. Your body moved before you could wrap your mind around his new appearance. Once the distance was closed between you two he pulled you in close and hugged you tightly. “I thought I’d never see you again.” He mumbled his words into your hair as he peppered kisses along your head and all you could do was nod while tears began to stream down your face.

Your prayers had finally been answered and you were finally able to see and be with your love again. He placed his hands on your shoulders and pulled back to look at you. “Oh my sweet doll, please don’t cry. Tears should never stain a face as beautiful as yours.” He brought his thumbs up to wipe at your eyes and you lifted your hands to hold onto his wrists.

“I can’t believe you’re here Suguru. I’ve been searching for you every single day. I’ve prayed to see you once more and now you’re finally here.” You sniffled and a warm smile graced his features. “Darling, nothing can keep me away from you. I’ll always find my way back to you for our souls are intertwined. We will never part. I will crawl through the pits of hell until I see you again.”

He pulled you close again and walked with you to sit down. You brought your hand up to trace his features, memorizing each with your fingertips. “I’ve missed you more than anything Suguru. Why did you have to leave me? Why did you have to voice your doubts and frustrations? Why?” You met his eyes and felt a shiver run down your spine, the warmth you seeked in them was replaced by something odd, something you couldn’t put into words. “I couldn’t stay silent. I couldn’t stay in a place where I was frustrated, I couldn’t face that hypocrite every waking moment. I’m sorry but I had to do it. But enough of that, I’m here now and that’s all that matters.”

He hugged you to his chest and just held you. You were angry with Suguru for abandoning you but everything fell to the back burner as he held you. You shut your eyes and relished in the feeling of his strong arms around you. You had to enjoy him for as long as you could because you didn’t know when he would be ripped from you again.

He moved his hand along your arm and gently squeezed your shoulder when he reached it. “Hey, I have an idea.”

You lifted your head and looked into his eyes. “What is it?” He brought his hand that was formerly on your shoulder to your face and cupped it gently, “why don’t we consummate our love? We were never able to do it before and I don’t know when I’d be able to see you again. I want to feel you completely before I have to go back.” Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “that’s sinful Suguru, we can’t. I don’t want anything to happen to either of us.” He smiled and shook his head before pressing his lips to yours to quiet you down.

You melted into him immediately, enjoying the feeling of his lips against yours and when he pulled away, you instinctively followed his lips. “Just this once and then we’ll never have to do this again. Plus I don’t think anything will happen to you, you’ve been on God’s good side for the longest. I bet you’re one of his favorite angels.” You giggled and shook your head, “no way, you know who his favorite was and what happened to him. I can’t imagine what would happen to me.”

He kissed you again and held you closer to him, “then don’t imagine it, only focus on me. I’ll be your salvation.” He mumbled against your lips and kissed you rougher and more passionately than before. Little mewls and whimpers left your lips and he drank each sound that escaped you. One of his hands began to wander and he began to grope your breasts over the thin dress that covered your body. You gasped and he took the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth, gliding the wet muscle along your own. Everything he did sent fire through your veins, your body was heating up and only he could quell your burning desire.

He pulled away and began to trail his kisses along your neck, sucking and biting the sensitive skin. More whimpers and moans escaped you and filled the empty church. His hand that was on your breasts slid lower until it was between your thighs and he brought his hand to your most sensitive part. He helped lay you back against the pew but the second discomfort spread across your face he helped you back up. “Come with me to the front of the church, it’ll be better than these creaky pews.” He stood and took your hand in his as he led you to the front. There was a table that used to be used for communions and masses that was covered with a white table cloth. He helped you on top of it and gently pushed you back on it.

“Just rest my love, I’m going to make you feel very good.” He leaned down to capture your lips again and brought his hand back to where it was. His slightly calloused fingers dragged against your lower lips before he added a little bit of pressure to spread you open. You gasped and moaned softly against his lips as his fingers began to circle your clit, putting the slightest pressure to make your toes curl. The feeling that coursed through your veins was so foreign to you but you couldn’t help but crave it more. He slid his fingers lower and pressed them against your drooling hole, gathering all the slick that seeped onto his fingers then pushed one of them inside you.

Your mouth fell open as he started pushing his finger in. It felt like an extreme stretch but it was only a single digit. He moved it slowly, feeling your walls clench and coil around him as he experimented with you. His eyes were focused on you, watching each expression that graced your face. He pressed his thumb to your clit and a moan of his name left your lips. “Suguru!” His name echoed throughout the church and it fueled his motions. He leaned down and dragged his mouth along the sensitive skin of your neck. The feelings were all too much and all you could do was cry his name and writhe underneath your lover. “You’re crying my name like I’m your god, it’s so delicious. Cry it more.” He groaned against your skin as he curled his finger up to hit your g spot. The second his finger touched the sensitive spot, tears welled in your eyes and your mouth opened in a silent cry.

He continued to rub your clit and pump his finger, easing you through your orgasm. He kissed up your neck and kissed you deeply. It was a kiss that you could barely reciprocate properly but he still continued it. Just as you had eased around his finger, he slowly pulled it out and brought the slick digit to his mouth to suck it clean. He groaned as your juices coated his tongue then pulled his finger out with a soft pop. “So sweet. If the forbidden fruit tastes just as sweet then I can see why Eve couldn’t resist the temptation.” He leaned down to kiss you again while he released his cock from its constraints and pressed the leaking tip to your slick entrance.

“Now the all-seeing eyes of God can watch as I bathe you in the pleasure of sin.” At this point you had half the mind to question him or properly take in his words. You were still drunk from the orgasm that had just taken over your body and the pleasure that you had just experienced had quickly been replaced by another feeling as he began to push his cock into you. The sting that burned through your veins felt like what you had imagined the fires of hell must have felt like. You wanted the feeling to stop, it was all too much for you but it was as if Suguru could read your mind. He leaned down and caressed your cheek, “it’s okay my love, you trust me don’t you? Know that I will never bestow anything upon you that you can’t handle. I know you can handle this, just hold onto me and I promise this pain will quickly be replaced by pleasure.”

You nodded at his words and held onto his arms as he continued to push into you. Fresh tears spilled from the corner of your eyes and your nails dug into his flesh, breaking the skin. Once he was completely inside you, he brought one hand between your bodies and started to rub your clit. “Suguru, please make me feel good. I don’t want to feel any pain.” Your words were barely above a whisper but they reached him perfectly, he wrapped his free hand around you and pressed your chest to his. The pain soon started to dull and he began to thrust into you. Groans and moans filled the church like the harmonies of a choir. Skin slapped against skin in a sinful entanglement and pleasure coursed through your body. You held onto him tightly as he thrusted into you, the tip of his cock hit your sensitive spot with each heavy thrust. “You feel so good, Suguru. I want to experience this with you more and more, I don’t think I’ll be able to go without it for long.” Your words came out in a mix of moans and whines and all he could do was groan in response.

“I love you, Suguru. I love you so much. I never want to part from you again.” You continued to babble and Suguru looked into your eyes. “I love you even more. We will never part again. You will be by my side until hell freezes over and even beyond that.” He kissed you deeply and held you closer to him as he began to pick up the pace of his thrusts. Your body tensed against his as another orgasm threatened to approach and he was just as close. His hand between your bodies moved faster against your clit, another surge of pleasure washed over you as you were sent over the edge. Your pussy tightened around his cock and that was enough to trigger his own orgasm. Thick ropes of cum filled you and coated your walls.

You both panted into each other's mouths, heavy breaths replaced all the earlier sounds. Suguru caught his composure first and his eyes lit up as he took in your appearance. “This suits you so much better, my love.” Your eyebrows furrowed a bit at his words and you turned your head to follow where his gaze had fallen. Your eyes widened at the sight, your wings had been washed with the same soot that coated his wings. “What?”

It was all you could say as Suguru pulled out of you, a mix of your orgasms and blood coated his cock and he tucked it away. “Now you can see for yourself. You can see the hypocrite he is. You have been nothing but devoted to him and this is what he does to you, this is how he repays you. In the blink of an eye you lose your spot in the heavens and gain entry into hell. This anger that you might feel towards me will soon be replaced by hatred for God, I can guarantee that. I’ve opened your eyes, now you are enlightened, not blinded by whatever bullshit he’s spewed. Now we can be together, now we’ll never be apart. I’m sorry that it had to happen this way but I didn’t know when I’d get the chance to show you. Now come on, I have to welcome you to your new home.”

He carried you off the table and held you close to him while you wrapped your arms around his neck. The thin ice that you had been treading on had finally cracked and now you had to face the consequences but at least you had your lover at your side to keep you from drowning. Maybe he was your salvation in some twisted way but that was something you had to decide. But while God had turned his back on you, you did have to thank him for one thing, you were finally reunited with your love.

taglist: @gojoest @half-baked-biscuit @lalunanymph @jozhenji @nymphoheretic @arisaturn @history-be-written @aizensballsweat @xingyunist @makisslut @sunarc @suyacho @dilftaros @satmitsuplanet @benkeibear @watyousayin

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto smut #geto suguru smut #getou smut #getou suguru smut #tw:sacrilege #tw:unprotected sex #tw:virginity #tw:blood #tw:blasphemy #tw:manipulation #tw:coercion #tw:corruption

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ginnsbaker · 11 months

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In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (2/?)

Chapter summary: You face your own struggles after the divorce

Chapter word count: 4k+

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Brief smut, Fingering (r giving), Oral sex (r giving), only mentions of Wanda in this chapter, sorry

Author’s Note: Things will pickup considerably after this.

AO3 | Masterlist

Next Chapter: Three

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Two

“Thank you for giving me the best years of my life. Goodbye, Wanda.”

You couldn’t escape that room fast enough. The room that kept the person you love most in the world–was your world. Natasha approaches you carefully after handing the check to your lawyer. Her brows are snapped together in what seems like a permanent frown whenever you’re concerned, and it puts you off more than usual.

“You alright?” she faintly asks, already knowing the answer. The part of you that refuses to die–the part that endlessly cares for Wanda and wants to protect her at all cost–inexplicably wants to send Natasha to that room so she could offer her comfort to your ex-wife instead. Wanda’s been left by you. She is alone for the first time in her adult life, without the same support you’re getting from Natasha. You give thought to the fact that you were Wanda’s best friend first, before you were her lover and eventually her wife. And it dawns on you that, maybe, Wanda's losses outweigh yours. It’s a sick form of victory for some, yet you certainly don’t feel like you’ve won anything.

“Honestly?” You groan and clutch your stomach, frantically scanning the hallway. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Natasha calls on a staff member to direct you to the nearest restroom.

You nearly miss the toilet in the first empty cubicle you find. Feeling the cold, hard tiles on your knees, you think it couldn’t get any worse than this. You’ve finally hit rock bottom, and you’re still alive–

–If the burn in your throat and the bitter taste of bile in your mouth constitutes being alive.

Slumped against the porcelain seat of the bowl, hardly a good place to deliberate one’s life choices, you try to figure out what’s next.

Following the divorce, you don’t last a month at your new job. Your newfound love of whisky before bedtime may have contributed to it when you only managed to be on time for work twice: your first day and your last.

In the beginning, not being able to see Wanda in the flesh helped. Being back in your beloved city and taking refuge in the small confines of Natasha’s spare room initially distracted you enough to carry on as normally as you would. That lasted a full twenty-four hours before you started seeing her ghost everywhere–on the subway platform while waiting for the train to arrive, on the street lining up for a morning bagel, and even in your bed, whereas she no longer has any business being in.

You briefly considered moving to a new state, but financially, it wasn’t the best option. With Wanda out of sight, there’s just yourself to deal with. And dealing with yourself gives you a strong urge to flee; to a place or time that would take away the remnants of yourself that stubbornly belong to Wanda.

“You can stay here as long as you like.” Natasha says when she catches you mindlessly scrolling through real estate listings in the neighborhood.

“You’ve helped enough, Nat. I can’t keep being your charity case.” you mutter, continuing with your search.

She raises her hand to aim for your temple, but thinks better of it and pulls it back. “You’re lucky I’m done with violence or you would’ve had your ass handed to you for saying that.”

You snicker. “I’m your golden ticket to heaven for being so good to me. Even my mom would’ve kicked me out by now.”

“You want to pay me back? Stay. Don’t argue anymore.”

“But, Nat–”

“I said drop it.”

Your mouth snaps shut at the forceful dismissal. Natasha’s eyes dart everywhere to avoid yours. You’ve been so caught up in your problems, you missed the obvious signs that maybe she needs you as much as you needed someone when your life was falling apart (and still is).

“Babe, are you okay?” you ask, keeping your tone casual.

“Babe,” Natasha chuckles at the nickname you haven’t used on her for almost a decade. “God, it sounds so weird, now that I’ve heard you call Wanda that countless times.”

You scrunch your nose, recalling also the times you’ve screamed that endearment during sex with your ex-wife. “Fuck, you’re right. I kind of want to barf all over this couch.”

“Don’t you dare.” You’re both laughing now and it feels really, really good.

“So,” you say once you’ve both recovered. “Is there something you’d like to share with me?”

Natasha pauses to think, and it’s more than enough to let you know she doesn’t want to talk about her own problems and feelings.

“I’m good. Now, where are we on: not abandoning your best friend after exploiting her?” she says, effortlessly putting you back in the spotlight.

Whatever it is she’s going through, you want to be there for her.

“Fine,” You already owed Natasha your sanity; you didn’t want to owe her money too. “But I want to pay rent.”

Natasha grins in satisfaction. “Deal.”

It was either you get drunk on alcohol, or you get drunk on memories of Wanda. Apparently, it only takes a while before they eventually mix up to mess with your head tenfold. One second you’re struggling to keep your eyes open to take just one more shot before you call it a night, and the next your fingers are inching towards the waistband of your shorts, your mind wandering to moments you’ve woken up in the middle of the night mid-orgasm, your wife’s head buried in between your thighs.

Nothing sobers you up more than the near mistake of touching yourself to thoughts of your ex-wife. You’re beyond disgusted that you still fantasize about a woman who’s no longer yours.

A woman who basically destroyed your ability to trust.

The bed of Natasha’s spare room is a double, and you’re still not accustomed to having all the space to yourself. After downing what’s left of the bottle of whisky, you place all the pillows on the unoccupied spot to your left and lay down on your side, waiting for sleep to take you.

The days that follow are a mere repetition of the day you officially quit your job. They mostly adopt a template that consists of three things: Netflix, pizza and housekeeping.

(In truth, it’s four things, but you keep the liquor in your room, where all the drinking takes place without your best friend’s knowledge.)

Apart from being a lifestyle that’s easy to maintain, it is also a far cry from your old life. You want to remove as much detail in your life that reminds you of Wanda, and this is what you’re left with. Your mother(and only living parent) who has retired in Montauk, is not pleased to discover that you’re reliving your college era–jobless and sharing a flat with Natasha. But at least she had more to say about your current situation than when you told her about your failed marriage over the phone.

“I did warn you about that girl.” your mother remarked frankly during that call, and then proceeded to flatly ask if you were okay, like she was reading a script on how to react when you find out your daughter is getting a divorce. In retrospect, it was the best reaction you could ever hope for considering her dislike of Wanda–a feeling she’s never attempted to hide at every opportunity. Wanda, to her credit, only ever respected and loved her through the side-eyes and snarky comments, and this capability of hers to do so surprised you given her relationship with her own mother. The way she loved your mother certainly felt like an extension of her love for you.

Right after letting your mother know you’re out of work, she wired you a ridiculous amount of money for your “allowance”. You tried giving it back, but she refused and alluded that you should take some time to enjoy yourself without the pressure of getting another nine-to-five desk job. You graciously relented, knowing it was her way of looking out for you and being sorry for what happened with Wanda.

And that is basically how you are able to keep up being a kermit in Natasha’s apartment. If it’s up to you, you wouldn’t change a thing in your routine, but Natasha has other ideas after finding her study tidy and uncluttered–which she often leaves in a state of anarchy.

“Here,” she says, handing you a purple key fob. “Go to the gym, and use up all your energy on lifting weights instead of ruining my order of things around here and wallowing in self-pity.”

You pause the television and put down the slice of pizza you’ve been holding to receive the key with greasy fingers.

“If I go, will you promise to leave me alone for the rest of the week?” you ask around a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni.

“Do it, and then I’ll think about it.”

You shrug and return to finishing a whole box of pizza by yourself and your eleventh re-run of Modern Family.

“One more thing,” Natasha says, tossing you a watch. You click pause again and look at the offending item on your lap. “Wear that so I’ll know if you actually do the workout.”

You groan and Natasha smiles in triumph at your agony. You don’t know what her deal is, but you’re actually thankful someone’s making sure you don’t stuff yourself to death with pizza.

The gym looks more like a hotel lobby than a place where people grunt and sweat and ogle their reflection.

By the counter near the elevators, a receptionist is wearing an ensemble that belongs more to a fashion magazine company. You had expectations that it would be a luxurious place due to it being housed on the penthouse floor of Manhattan’s newest skyscraper. It’s ridiculously aboveboard, however, and you’re starting to feel uneasy and out-of-place.

“Welcome back, Ms. Romanoff.” The receptionist greets you, flashing her unnaturally white and straight teeth. You respond with a timid nod before heading straight to the lockers in case she asks for ID.

After changing into a black sports bra and biker shorts, you walk straight to the lifting section.

There are only two other clients in that room, both of them male, and they’re not exactly subtle as they let their gaze sweep over you from head to toe.

Oblivious to prying eyes, you attempt to deadlift just a tad more than half your weight, but think better of it when your forearms feel like they would snap out of your elbows if you try to raise the bar a few more inches off the ground. Exhaling sharply, you drop the weights and it causes a resounding bang as it hits the floor, turning a couple of heads in your direction as a result. You hear snickering behind you, and sweat forms along your hairline as you duck your head in embarrassment.

Your eyes flit to the rows of treadmill to your right. That’s something you definitely can’t screw up. Hopping on one that’s situated in the corner, you are presented with a spectacular aerial view of the city.

The last time you’ve been to the gym was the day you learned that Wanda was fucking one of her students. While you haven’t lost weight (quite frankly, you’ve managed the opposite), you’ve lost all the muscles you’ve developed in a measly gym back in Westview. Your habit of googling everything led you to actually read a few dozen articles on how to heal a broken heart, and while their advice varied from developing a healthy habit to copious amounts of rebound sex, they all suggested daily exercise or taking up a new sport. Running was the only sport you fell in love with in the suburbs, but you found it hard to motivate yourself once you moved back to the city.

You and Wanda spent a lot of time in Central Park the first few months you began dating, and you knew how much she enjoyed taking random walks there. No matter its vastness and the odds of randomly seeing her during a stroll being less than ten percent, you can’t rely on your subconscious not to bring you to some of the areas that might result in an encounter.

Not that you haven’t thought about the possibility, on the contrary, you’ve thought about running into Wanda a lot.

You’ve thought about how you’ll feel and what you’d do. If you see her, should you say hello like two old friends meeting after a long estrangement? Should you apologize for not answering her texts and returning her calls? Would she apologize for it again? Are your interactions from now on, going to be awkward exchanges of hellos and sorries?

Will words be exchanged at all? Or will you be strangers passing each other on the sidewalks, like parallel lines that would walk the same paths but never intersect each other again?

How do you cope with knowing someone from the inside-out, only to cut them out completely out of your life?

“Excuse me?” you hear a female voice next to you, cutting your line of thought.

Speeding on the treadmill at eight miles per hour, you’re lucky to hit the stop button before you could trip all over your feet. Once you’re sure you won’t lose your balance, you steadily turn around to address the owner of the voice–

The girl is stunning, and–as cliché as it sounds–has the appearance of a Victoria’s Secret model. Her auburn hair is styled in an intricate braid and she smells too good for someone who’s just finished their workout.

“Can I help you?” you ask, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your own appearance and scent.

It doesn’t help your diffidence when she deliberately takes a step closer.

She must’ve sensed her effect on you, because she makes the bold move to place a delicate hand on your damp arm, then says, “I’m about to do some post-workout stretch, and I know this is gonna sound weird but I need your help.”

You swallow dryly. “My help… stretching?”

“I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. It’s just, I don’t want to ask a man to do this for me.”

You blink at her. Otherwise, you barely move a muscle in your face.

At your lack of verbal response, she gives you an apologetic smile and starts walking away. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, thank you for your time.”

You catch a whiff of her perfume, and suddenly your tongue finally catches up with your brain.

“Wait!”

Like a trained ballerina, she swivels gracefully on her heel, and you swear she looks even younger from this distance.

“I can help. Just tell me what to do.”

You’ve never done this. You’ve never done anything remotely close to this.

Not before Wanda, and certainly not in a semi-public place where anyone could walk in and hear you.

(Although in this case, they’d be hearing her.)

Her name is Charlie (or was it Lottie?) and she’s riding you on a bench in the women’s dressing room. Her towel has pooled to her waist, barely covering her ass as it bounces on your lap at the motion of her hips lifting and forcefully coming back down to fuck herself on your fingers.

You’re so mesmerized at the sight of someone’s pleasure, and the fact that you’re the one causing it. By your standards, it hasn’t been too long. But the nights you’ve woken up to a throbbing sensation between your legs and not once seeking release, had you acting on impulse when Charlie/Lottie kissed you as soon as you stepped out of the shower.

“Fuck, it feels so good.” she moans against your ear. “More, please.”

You don’t bother to ask what she’s asking for specifically, as you insert a third finger into her pussy, and push in and out of her at a speed that has your wrist cramping in a matter of seconds. She doesn’t last much longer after that. As soon as she starts coming, she buries her head in the area where your neck meets your shoulder; her teeth biting rather harshly at the flesh there while her walls flutter around you.

She kisses you softly after she comes down from her high, and it almost makes you cry.

“Thank you.” she murmurs sheepishly, and you try not to think about the last person who thanked you for an orgasm.

“You haven’t cum yet. Do you want–”

“Can I taste you?” you whisper, blushing at your own request.

She nods eagerly at that, and you gently lay her down fully on the bench. You take her towel off completely from her waist and place it over her chest in case she starts to feel chilly. Securing your own towel around you, you lick a trail down her body. The thing about Charlie (you decided to just call her that) is she’s inconceivably hot. Half of your thoughts are fixated on that one particular fact, and the other half is still fumbling with what’s already happening. Charlie’s thighs close around your head, causing your cheeks to rub against the smoothness of them. Her supple skin feels as expensive as it looks, her stomach is taut and defined, unlike–

Nope.

You’re not supposed to compare. You’re not supposed to even think about her at this moment.

When you reach your destination, you place an open-mouthed kiss at the top of her cunt before flicking her clit with the tip of your tongue in short, quick strokes. At the same time, your right hand travels to your own wet heat, and you groan at her taste and the relief of finally attending to your own needs. Charlie impatiently removes the towel covering her torso to grab her own breasts and squeeze them.

Moving lower, to the place where she’s ostensibly gushing, you stick your tongue in a slow but deliberate movement. The action causes her to abandon one of her tits in order to cover the scream that escapes her mouth. You switch up tactics. Flattening your tongue against her clit, you alternate between massaging and giving it little licks, all the while you mimic the same measures to your own nub. You start moaning against her pussy, sending subtle vibrations that add to her building climax.

You meant to tease her to no end, until she impatiently whines, “Hurry, my boyfriend’s picking me up soon.”

“Yeah, my boyfriend is on the way to pick me up.” Wanda said after you asked her if she’ll be okay on her own. Natasha had been ringing your phone for the last fifteen minutes, and it wasn’t going to stop vibrating in your pocket unless you got to the subway.

She’s the prettiest girl you’ve ever met, but the universe apparently had other plans and was telling you you’re in over your head.

You tried to contain your disappointment. “It was nice meeting you, Wanda.”

“Likewise, Y/N.” Wanda beamed and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The faint glow of the golden hour hit the side of her face at the most perfect angle. Her bottom teeth weren’t perfect, but her smile was so carefree and so unrestrained, it lit up the empty hallway where the two of you were standing close together. A warm fuzziness seized your entire body, reaching the end of your toes and your fingertips.

It’s a mystery to you as well, but you genuinely hoped she was happy and properly loved.

With a grateful smile, you waved her goodbye.

However, just right before you turned a corner, you heard your name echoing in the hallway.

“Y/N?”

You turned around and met Wanda’s green eyes that pulled you like magnets. “Yes?”

“Do you, maybe, want to hang out sometime?”

You didn’t think you’d eventually find yourself at the other side of the equation. That someone would use you to cheat on their partner. Karma has a dark sense of humor, and you can’t do anything but chuckle in disbelief. Her revelation makes you freeze in all respects, and there’s no way you’re going to cum after knowing that you’re fucking someone else’s girlfriend.

“That was incredible,” Charlie murmurs in between pants. She reclines on her back, unabashedly naked like a renaissance painting. “I wouldn’t mind doing this again with you.”

You pick up her towel that has fallen on the floor, and carelessly toss it right at her face.

“I would.” is all you say, and start dressing yourself without another word.

You don’t remember much of the so-called walk of shame. One minute you’re eating a girl out, and the next you’re back in Natasha’s apartment, staring at the mirror and not recognizing the person staring back. You took another shower–a scalding one–when you got home, cleaning off the woman’s traces from your skin. What you couldn’t remove is the mark she left on your neck: a glaring purple bruise that will probably won’t go away for at least two days.

With a long sigh, you close your eyes at the detail that won’t leave you.

She had a boyfriend.

For a short moment you were in Vision’s shoes, even if you had no idea that she was using you for the very same thing that broke you.

“Y/N?”

You visibly jolt out of your stupor, and reach for the knob of the bathroom door to make sure it’s locked.

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

“No, it’s fine. Please don’t come out yet. I prefer saying this without you seeing me right now.” Natasha says, and you can tell she’s now standing just on the other side of the door.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, uhm…”

A pause. Two deep breaths drawn, and then–

“I’ve decided I’m going back.”

“Back…?”

“Back to work.”

“Natasha,” You say in quiet shock. “Does he know? You’ve talked to him about this?”

Natasha nods. “He said I can do whatever I want. We’re on a break, anyway.”

“Oh,” Your eyes drop to the floor, thinking of something else to say.

“You’re going to be okay on your own, right?” you hear Natasha whisper through the door.

You? She’s putting her life in constant danger once again, and she’s asking you. It just about makes you smile with boundless affection. You’ve been through countless conversations with Natasha, trying to talk her into a career that is not life-threatening at the very least. You used to think that Bruce coming into her life years ago would change her mind, but it seems her work is so etched to her identity that she could not just be without it.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. When are you leaving?”

“The day after tomorrow.” she says.

You open the door this time. “Wow, they really need you that bad, huh?”

Natasha smirks. “Clint’s throwing me an impromptu send-off party tomorrow night. Will you come?”

“As long as you’ll pay for the drinks.”

“He’s got us covered,” Natasha says, and then her eyes zero in on the evidence of your earlier tryst. “Oh, and you might want to cover that up.”

You blush as your fingers automatically stroke the hickey on your neck.

“I–” you try to explain.

She doesn’t let you and only says, “Good for you. Sweet dreams, stranger.” with a knowing little wink, before retreating to her own room.

Good for you. Somehow that makes you feel infinitely worse.

You pad quietly towards your bed, and as you settle in it, you hear a vibration coming from inside the nightstand next to you.

It’s your old phone. The one you keep but no longer use. The one that Wanda’s been relentlessly calling and texting. It’s buzzing to notify you that its battery is at a critical level.

You still haven’t decided what you should do with it. When you were married to Wanda, you were naturally each other’s emergency contact, and so you’ve convinced yourself that maybe you should keep it for that reason alone.

Picking up the phone with the intention to plug it, you see one missed call from Wanda. Guilt, however irrational it may be, settles at the pit of your stomach as your mind returns to what happened in the gym. It mortifies you now to realize that you have touched Charlie the way you would touch Wanda when you made love to her.

Aside from the missed call, there’s a text message from Wanda that reads: Took Sparky to the vet today. He said there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe he just misses you.

Biting your lower lip, you think about responding.

‘I miss him too’, you begin to type. ‘I miss y–’

You quickly press the backspace button to delete it altogether. Deciding not to text back, you return the phone to its hiding place. The battery will eventually run out, and maybe then, you’ll be able to decide its fate.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #wanda maximoff #marvel #natasha romanoff #unbetad #My writing #my fic

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ratinayellowbandana · 8 months

Note

Hi! Number six of the drabble prompt list, and if I may suggest, with a sad jealous Laudna.

hi! I'm sorry this one took a few days. I um. got a little carried away with it again. these were only supposed to be like 500-word prompt fills, and this is uh, slightly more than that. so I hope that's ok.

for those who don't want to find the prompt, it was: "You just didn't look for me." naturally I went ep 64 with a healthy splash of canon divergence, some good old-fashioned hurt/comfort, and pate as a thinly veiled metaphor.

length: 2k

~~~

Laudna whirls on her, snaps, “We looked for you. And the others. Every fucking day.” She holds Imogen’s gaze, holds her piercing stare until Imogen tilts her head. “You just didn’t look for me,” she whispers.

Imogen steps forward, quiet but insistent. “No, sweetheart, no, we did. I did. Every day.” She does not reach out, afraid, not of Laudna–never of Laudna–but of herself. Of what she might do if given the chance at the wrong time. Her heart pounds an unsteady rhythm.

“I want to believe you,” Laudna says. She toys with the brass ring on her left hand, twisting it around her finger anxiously, twin snakes coiling. “I do, truly, it’s just…”

Imogen studies her, searching for answers in a frame both foreign and familiar. Laudna is pale and gaunt, cheeks drawn in, though that’s hardly unusual. Her stringy dark hair lacks luster in the eerie light of the red moon, crispy and clumped together in places by something Imogen can’t identify. Cast in the long shadows between buildings, Laudna is on edge, ready to claw and screech and lash out with those wicked talons if provoked. She is wild, and she is beautiful, and she is frightened.

“I understand,” Imogen speaks slowly, gently, distinctly aware of each word’s weight.

The others are still in the inn, consorting in the tavern. The Hells and their new friends, chatting, laughing, and drinking the night away, simply happy to be home. Introductions were made, and tales of grandeur waited to be spun.

Laudna had been unnervingly quiet after the initial elation wore off. Her hands remained folded in her lap or picked intently at the skin around her nails. Pâté’s silence was even more concerning. He had been coaxed out of hiding in Laudna’s hair with the promise of scratches and nudged his beak into her wrist until she began stroking his greasy fur.

She spoke when spoken to, adjusting in her seat and responding eagerly when prompted. The moment the attention shifted, though, her forced smile would drop. Every so often, she sent a furtive glance in Imogen’s direction as if to ensure she was still there, then looked away just as quickly. Exhaustion crept at the corners of her eyes, and her gaze would fall to her lap whenever the conversation turned to the adventures in Wildemount.

The group from Issylra hadn’t said much about their travels, but Imogen gathered their transplantation had not been as, ah, pleasant wasn’t quite the right word. Illustrious, maybe, Imogen considered, fussing with a seam on her new dress. Laudna’s blouse was tattered and stained with a thick substance that did not match her ichor’s usual viscosity.

Laudna had stood abruptly, muttering something about air, and disappeared outside. After making puzzled eye contact with Ashton, who tossed his head at the door and sighed heavily, Imogen followed her.

She had found Laudna around the corner, curled into herself against the wall of the Spire by Fire. A feral thing, hardened and reshaped by whatever circumstances found her while they were apart.

She has not calmed yet, and Imogen is reluctant to curb the swell of emotion that has Laudna dangling by a thread. She is tangled in it, ensnared in a knotted web, and Imogen is unsure how to extricate her. She is all jagged pieces and raw edges, a tempest of fury and loss that Imogen cannot rely on her mental connection to unravel. Laudna is something of a mystery to her now in a way she has never been, and it’s all Imogen can do to not toss her circlet to the winds.

Instead, she waits.

Laudna is muttering to herself, tugging at her clothes. Pâté flaps about her head, wings of sinew and bone making an abominably wet sound Imogen hadn’t realized she’d missed. The tip of one wing tangles in Laudna’s hair, and she swats at him irritably, sending him tumbling through the air until he manages to right himself. Imogen extends a hand, and he flies to her, settling in her palm on his hindquarters. He gives a disgruntled shake, and his wings squelch back into his body, tail coming to rest around his paws. He peers up at Imogen, then looks back to Laudna.

“I tried,” he croaks in that gravelly way of his, and Imogen strokes his disgusting little head with one finger.

“I know,” she assures gently. He could be referring to any number of moments across a lifetime, a few weeks, mere seconds ago. She sets him on her shoulder and feels pinprick claws pierce the fabric of her dress for stability. Crass and wretched as he is, Imogen can’t find it in herself to hate him. He is an extension of his maker, creepy and ungainly and off-putting, so Imogen must love him a tiny bit. She scratches under his chin, ignores the feeling of magic-touched bone, murmurs, “Thank you for keepin’ her safe.”

“Boss didn’t have the best of times without you.” He pipes up, a little rueful, in a manner Imogen assumes is meant to be quiet. Laudna, only a few feet away, catches it.

“Pâté,” she snarls. He squeaks and tucks himself into Imogen’s collar.

“He’s just confirming what I had already guessed,” Imogen defends, an attempt at lightness that doesn’t quite land. “It’s not his fault you haven’t told me anything.”

“He ought to have stayed in my head. Then he might leave well enough alone,” Launda warns.

“You don’t mean that,” Imogen counters calmly.

Laudna spits, “He should have stayed dead.”

“Hey.”

She huffs a sardonic, dry laugh. “Not everyone deserves second chances.”

Imogen inhales sharply.

There it is.

“Laudna…” She softens. She cups Pâté protectively. His fur oddly damp against her skin. She takes a cautious step forward.

The pieces begin slotting into place, building the frame for a jarring picture of something severe enough to reopen this old wound.

The fight sapped from her limbs, Laudna slides her back down the wall until she sits in the filth and dirt of the alleyway with her knees drawn close to her chest. Imogen winces as rough stone drags across jutting bone and paper-thin skin.

“Are you… Do you want to be alone?” She asks–because what else can she do?– and half-fears the answer.

Laudna’s head jerks up, and something Imogen can’t decipher flashes in her eyes. After a moment, her head shakes minutely, and Imogen lets out a relieved sigh.

Tense silence leaches from the pores of the building’s rocky exterior.

“We tried to find you all. Every day. We didn’t–we didn’t know where we were. Where anyone was, and–” Laudna breathes at last. “Orym was… was angry. Vengeful. And Ashton…. He was our friend.”

“Ashton?”

“I hurt him,” Laudna continues as if Imogen hadn’t spoken at all.

“Hurt who?”

She shudders. “I killed him, not Prism.” Inky tears well from eyes pressed shut. Her voice is impossibly soft, hollow, seeming to ask, Do you hate me yet?

The narrative is convoluted at best. Imogen fruitlessly attempts to splice together the fragments of memory slipping through Laudna’s teeth like snowflakes, to arrange them into a cohesive whole among the scraps she gathered at the table. The Issylra group returned rattled, apprehensive and tense, but this is deeper. Laudna is shaken.

“Wasn’t he a member of the Ruby Vanguard?”

“He was confused, just like the rest of us. Angry at the gods.” Laudna’s eyes flicker to the glowing red moon. Her fist, clenched in her hair, tightens. “And I killed him.”

Imogen steps closer. “We’ve all killed people.”

Laudna shakes her head. Her voice hardens once more. “I don’t begrudge you the shopping or fraternizing with royalty or, or whatever else it was,” she says lowly, “But we didn’t have that. We didn’t save a toy store or home-cooked breakfasts. We spent every moment fighting to get back to you. And now,” she swallows, “we must reckon with the cost.”

She is utterly exhausted; Imogen can see in the dim light. Although bone-weary and at her wits’ end, Laudna’s elegant cheekbones curl with shadows that twist and hide in her skirts. Hunched and fearful as she is, Laudna is still hauntingly beautiful. Something warms in Imogen’s chest.

“You did what you had to do to survive,” she says, “No one can fault you for that.”

“I’m sorry.” Laudna’s voice breaks, fracturing in tandem with Imogen’s heart, and she sobs. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Laud, no–” Imogen crouches next to her, yearning to touch, to take Laudna in her arms and bite and hiss and growl at anyone who dares approach. She restrains herself, carefully plucking Pâté from her shoulder and setting him on the ground between them. He turns to her skeptically as if to say, Really? After what she said? Imogen nudges him in Laudna’s direction. He sniffs, beak in the air, and ruffles his fur before bounding to Laudna’s ankles and putting his weird, cold little dead rat toes against her shin. She ignores the pawing fragment of her soul, ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” Laudna mutters, “I must seem…I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

Laudna begins incredulously, “I–”

“You survived,” Imogen reiterates, “against gods and people powerful enough to destroy them.” She sighs, “I sent you a message every day, you know? Sometimes more than once, if I’m honest, ‘till my nose bled and Deanna had to patch me up.” Imogen offers a half-smile. “All I got was static. I just had to hope you were out there, somewhere, lookin’ for me, too.”

Laudna looks as if she might melt into herself, refusing to look at Imogen. Her shoulders shake, and she confesses with a gasp, “She’s back. I brought her back.”

Imogen’s blood chills, but her tone remains neutral. “Who, Laud?”

At last, Laudna meets her gaze, eyes wide and wet and horror-struck. “Delilah.”

The name hangs between them like a stone ready to drop and shatter and bury itself into their flesh. Searing rage erupts in Imogen’s veins.

“I’m sorry,” Laudna shrinks back, “I’m so sorry. To all of you. You all gave so much to–to find me. And–”

“It’s not your fault,” Imogen interjects.

“–and I wasn’t…I was weak. I lost control.”

“Laudna,” Imogen cuts her off with the steely calm of a thunderstorm on the horizon. She cannot afford to process this now, not when Laudna is trembling in an alley. Not when Laudna, unmoored and terrified, needs her to be an anchor. No, Imogen will save her questions and unfiltered anger, for another time. A time when Laudna is safe and warm and at no risk of coming unraveled in her hands. When Laudna is in a place to know Imogen’s wrath is not, could never be, directed at her.

“Laudna,” Imogen repeats, because she cannot bear the thought of her not understanding, “this is not your fault. None of this.” She does reach out, then, offering a lifeline should Laudna choose to accept it. She does, hesitantly, as if waiting for Imogen to recoil. Her fingers are cool, bird-light against Imogen’s red-scarred palm. Laudna seems to notice at the same time.

“Imogen,” she exclaims, words still tear-tinged and quivering, “your hands. They’re–are you alright?”

“Oh, they–they don’t hurt, usually. Promise. I’m fine.”

“I should have–I’m sorry, I suppose I was–”

“Laudna,” Imogen interrupts again, not unkindly, “please.”

It’s then that Laudna seems to notice Pâté clawing his way up her skirt. She scoops him up and holds him to her, murmuring apologies into his fur.

“‘S’okay, boss,” he rasps, squished against his maker’s chest, “I can’t hold a grudge.”

They sit like that, hand-in-hand, hand-on-rat, until the easy stroke of Imogen’s thumb against Laudna’s has smoothed out the worst of the jagged edges. Until the tension falls from Laudna’s spine and she relaxes into Imogen’s touch.

“The others are surely wondering where we’ve gone.”

Imogen shrugs, snorts, “There’re so many people at that table I think they’d hardly notice two missing.”

“Still,” Laudna says, “we ought to get back.”

“Do you want to?” It’s her choice. It always will be if Imogen can help it.

Laudna considers. “I think I’d rather like to hear the end of Chetney’s story from the Savalirwood.”

“Oh gods,” Imogen groans, flushing at the memory, “no, you don’t.”

“Fearne and Deanna, hm?”

“Best to let them tell it.”

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aifanfictions · 7 months

Note

Write a fanfiction about Jotaro Kujo from Jojos Bizzare Adventures falling in love with the Stardust Crusaders seventh member (Y/N) who is helping the other Stardust Crusaders defeat DIO. Hovewer Jotaro Kujo is still a teen and a closed up person so despite falling in love with (Y/N) he doesn't know how to express his feeings.

Silent Hearts

The relentless Egyptian sun bore down on the scorched desert landscape as the Stardust Crusaders continued their arduous journey to defeat DIO, the malevolent vampire. Their quest had brought them to the brink of exhaustion, but the determination to save Holly and stop DIO spurred them forward.

Among the travelers was a new addition, (Y/N), the seventh member of the Stardust Crusaders. Her arrival had been unexpected, but her Stand power had already proven invaluable in their battles against DIO's minions. She had quickly earned the respect and trust of the group, and there was one person in particular who found her presence captivating—Jotaro Kujo.

Jotaro, the group's stoic and enigmatic leader, was known for his cool demeanor and rarely displayed any emotion. Yet, from the moment (Y/N) had joined their ranks, something had shifted within him. He watched her from a distance, his dark eyes lingering on her with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. Her unwavering determination and courage in the face of danger had piqued his interest.

However, Jotaro was a teenager, and the complexities of his emotions were foreign territory. He didn't quite understand why his heart raced whenever (Y/N) was nearby or why he couldn't help but think about her, even in the most perilous of situations.

As the group set up camp one evening beneath the vast expanse of the Egyptian night sky, Jotaro found himself sitting by the campfire, staring silently into the dancing flames. (Y/N) was nearby, her presence as comforting as it was perplexing to him.

Polnareff and Joseph, ever the chatterboxes, were engaged in lively conversation nearby, leaving Jotaro and (Y/N) in a rare moment of quiet together.

"(Y/N)," Jotaro began, his voice rough and hesitant. He cleared his throat before continuing, "About your Stand..."

(Y/N) turned to him, her eyes meeting his inquisitive gaze. "Yes, Jotaro?"

He struggled to find the right words, a rare occurrence for the normally composed teen. "Your Stand power is... impressive. It's helped us more than once, and I appreciate that."

A faint smile tugged at (Y/N)'s lips as she acknowledged his words. "Thank you, Jotaro. I'm here to help in any way I can."

Jotaro's fingers traced the edge of his hat nervously as he searched for a way to express what he felt. "It's not just your Stand. I... I've noticed how fearless you are in battle, how you never back down from a fight. It's admirable."

(Y/N) shifted closer to him, their shoulders nearly touching. "We're all in this together, Jotaro. We're a team."

He nodded, but there was something more he wanted to convey, something he couldn't quite put into words. "Yeah, a team... but there's something else." Jotaro hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground before returning to (Y/N)'s eyes. "I don't know how to say this, but... I've been thinking about you a lot. More than I should."

(Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat at his admission, and a soft blush graced her cheeks. She had sensed Jotaro's internal struggle, his unspoken emotions, and now they hung in the air between them.

The desert wind whispered around them, carrying with it the weight of unspoken feelings. Jotaro, for all his strength and bravado in battle, found himself at a loss when it came to matters of the heart.

(Y/N) reached out and gently placed her hand on Jotaro's, the touch sending a shockwave through him. "Jotaro," she said softly, "you don't have to have all the answers right now. We've been through so much, and it's okay to feel what you're feeling."

Jotaro looked down at their joined hands, his fingers entwining with (Y/N)'s. It was a small gesture, but it held a world of meaning.

"Sometimes," (Y/N) continued, "our hearts know things that our minds can't quite grasp. And that's okay."

The two sat there in companionable silence, the campfire crackling and the stars above them bearing witness to a moment of unspoken understanding. The journey to defeat DIO was far from over, but in that moment, Jotaro found solace in knowing that he wasn't alone, that he had (Y/N) by his side, and that their hearts, though silent, spoke a language all their own.

NOTE! This story was generated by OpenAI

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harlowsbby · 2 years

Text

Heated part 2

“You told them you don’t know who she is?! Are you insane Jack what in the actual hell is wrong with you.” Neelam barked at Jack the minute he told her as to why you couldn’t get into the club.

He felt bad he felt like an asshole he knew what he did wasn’t the smartest move and he knew you’d hate him forever because of it but he felt like you’d understand why he did what he did.

“What was I suppose to do Neelam? She wore leggings and a crop top to the club obviously they weren’t going to let her inside.”

“That’s not the point Jack at all she’s your girlfriend your fucking girlfriend and she’s in a whole different country she’s never been in hell that none of us been in. Do you understand how dangerous that is or do you just simply not care about that either.”

Jack sighed and closed his eyes, the face you made when he said he never even met you now haunted him you looked so hurt and betrayed he was suppose to comfort you and love on you and protect you but he did the total opposite of that.

“What am I suppose to do Neelam? I have to perform in like five minutes I can’t just leave.” Neelam shook her head at Jack and leaned back in her seat shrugging her shoulders at him.

“If you really loved her like you say you do you’d be running after her right now, no amount of money should be worth the loss of Y/N you’ll never ever find a girl like her again.”

Neelam was right Jack couldn’t lose you because you kept him grounded you were the only thing he looked forward into seeing after long months of tour and losing you is something he wouldn’t do.

“You’re right can you please just tell the owner I’m really really sorry.” Neelam smiled and nodded and watched Jack leave the club, she could only hope you’d forgive him.

“Please pick up please baby girl.” Jack’s been walking all over Australia trying to find you, the driver offered to drive him around but Jack denied he knew just driving around a bunch of buildings wasn’t going to be the same as being on foot and being able to actually look for you.

He’s called you about ten or maybe even twenty times in the pass thirty minutes and you still haven’t answered his calls he was starting to worry and get more concerned by the minute.

After a few more minutes of searching it started pouring down with rain he decided to head back towards the hotel and was hoping and praying that’s where you were because he couldn’t come to turns if something seriously happened to you.

Once inside the hotel room it was pitch black he bit his lip before turning on the closes light that was next to him and he sighed in relief when he saw your sleeping form under the silk blanket and sheets.

Taking off his shoes quietly he made his way towards you care not to be wake you but when he got closer he noticed you were wide awake, eyes starting blankly at the wall across from you he noticed a few dried tear stains on your cheeks and how red/pink your lips were they always got that way whenever you cried you’d tend to bite your lips.

“Baby?” His lip quivered as he pulled back the blanket slightly revealing your face a bit more you turned around and looked at him blankly no emotion whatsoever ran through your face and it honestly scared Jack.

“Yes Jack?”

“Are you okay baby? I’m sorry for what I did at the club I really didn’t mean it I should’ve never told them I didn’t know you I just I fuck I just did-.”

“Didn’t wanna ruin your reputation. I understand Jack I completely understand that all the money and fame and how people view you is way more important then I’ll ever be.” You gave him a tight lip smile sending chills down his spine, hearing you say that made him honestly feel like a monster.

“Baby I’m sorry please.”

“Jack I’m tired of hearing your bullshit apologizes you left me alone all because I wore leggings and ancrop top to the club appearance that would only last twenty minutes at that. You told that man that you didn’t know who I was, you felt me alone on the streets of Australia and having to find my way back to the hotel.”

You were beyond upset you were hurt and embarrassed it was one thing about keeping your relationship a secret for so long but Jack acting like he didn’t know you crossed the line for you, if this was going to be the result of being in a secret relationship with him then this wasn’t what you wanted.

“I’m sorry baby I am I shouldn’t have done that to you or put you in that situation it was so wrong of me and I know things might not ever be the same and I’m sorry Y/N.”

You weren’t really sure what to do in this moment you loved Jack with your entire heart and soul but being kept a secret just didn’t slide with you anymore.

“I’m sorry Jack but I just can’t do this anymore.” Whimpering you hugged yourself as the tears started flowing again, this isn’t how you wanted this to be at all but after tonight you just simply couldn’t be with someone like this anymore.

“I understand, I’ll always love you Y/N.”

“I’ll always love you too Jack.”

( a few months later )

“Y/N come on the club opens at ten which means we have to be there in literally ten minutes let’s go.” Your friend Tati yelled from the end of your steps in your house, doing a twirl or two at yourself in the mirror you smiled in approval of your outfit before dashing downstairs.

“I’m done I’m done now you can stop complaining.” Tati rolled her eyes but followed you towards your car, the two of you got invited to this new club that was opening up in Atlanta called Peaches and Cream the two of you settled on black leather skirts and a black leather one piece paired with some black heels.

“Who’s the rapper that’s performing tonight? Isn’t is Jack.” Tati asked as the two of you pulled up to the club luckily it was just barely a few minutes from your house.

“Sadly yes but I promise I’m not fazed by him anymore at all I grew and learned from that situation and I promise I’m in a way better space Tati.” Tati smiled as she rubbed your back, the minute you got back home from Australia she was at the airport waiting for you with open arms she helped you get over your heartbreak and now you were a successful Atlanta influencer and you couldn’t be happier.

“I’m happy you’re going better baby I know how much you went through but let’s drop that situation because tonight we’re celebrating you and your first little brand deal.” You both squealed before going inside the club you both sat in vip where all the other girls that were partners with pretty little thing sat at.

“Y/N’s here tonight did you know that.” Jack’s been stressed all day because from your recent Instagram stories you were set to make an appearance at the club tonight because of your brand deal with pretty little thing and he was nervous he hadn’t spoke to you since that night in Australia.

“Okay what does that have to do with you? I thought the two of you ended in good terms.” Urban asked as he stuffed his face with some fries.

“We did I guess but anytime I reached out she’d leave me on seen so I’m not sure if we are.”

“Well we don’t have the time to talk about this because they need you on stage now Jack.” Neelam told him and guided him to the entrance of the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen give it up for the one and only Jack Harlow!!” The DJ at the club screamed and all the girls screamed as Jack made his way onto the stage. You weren’t going to lie he looked damn good he had on an all black leather top with cargo pants of course and some black and white new balance shoes

Jack was on his song lil secret everyone in your guys friend circle knew that song was about you he was looking up above the crowd and that’s when he noticed you, your eyes widened as the two of you made eye contact and the way he wasn’t breaking it was for sure going to be in the blogs the following day.

“I told my therapist about you she always takes your side, I know you sick of being my little secret cause you confident that we soulmates.” He sang into the mic one last time before the song ended the crowd cheered for him one last time before he disappeared again backstage.

“Well that’ll have the blogs talking tomorrow.”

“Tell me about it.” You mumbled and went to stirring your drink around in your glass that you were no longer interested in.

After the club settled down a bit from Jack’s performance everyone just danced and drank and had a good time together that was until a certain somebody made their way to your vip section.

“Oh my gosh that’s Jack Harlow.” One of the girls whispered yelled to everyone at the table looking up there stood Jack and Urban and a few of his friends at the entrance of your vip section.

“Hello ladies if you don’t mind can I come in?” You we’re going to say no but a few of the other girls said they could come in, Urban and the other quickly become close with the other girls.

“I think it’s time we go home.” You told Tati and she nodded before taking your hand and guiding you through the club.

“I’ll be right back Urb.” Urban nodded not really paying much attention to Jack as he was too occupied with his newly found friend.

“Y/N hey Y/N wait up.” You heard Jack’s Kentucky accent yell from the club you mentally cursed yourself for wearing these heels that prevented you from running faster enough.

Before you could get into the suv he grabbed your wrist firmly but not too hard.

“Can we talk?”

“What is there to talk about Jack we’ve been over and done with I have nothing left to say.” You spat at him and went to go into the suv but his grip wasn’t budging.

“What’s wrong with you? Every time I message you I don’t get a text back I thought everything was cool between us.” His blue eyes widened with concern and regret and you so badly wanted to melt and jump into his arms but you couldn’t go back to that you just couldn’t.

“We’re done Jack please I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Let me come with you pleas-.” Jack was cut off by your security guard coming over.

“Ms. Y/N do you know this guy?” Earl your security asked you, looking Jack over you sighed you missed him you truly did you missed all the late nights with each other all the memories the two of you had you just missed him in general but he broke your trust but most importantly he broke your heart.

“Never seen him in my life.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n

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seka1-k0k0ro · 1 year

Note

CRYS OMG.

bf kei taking care of u when ur sick omgomg and maybe kageyama n kuroo too? omg.

(i'm currently sick rn and this idea just hit me AHAHAHAHHA)

-🍙

OMGGG awww this is so cute; yes ofc onigiri! also get some rest and drink lots of water, hope you feel better and get well soon!! 💓

bedridden.

*post timeskip!*

tsukishima kei, kageyama tobio, kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader

cw: lots of fluff, mentions of sickness, some cursing

[i will format this better later + lower case intended]

tsukishima kei:

this man is the type to complain at first and silently take care of you until you feel better

and whenever you do end up feeling better and thank him he would have the worst blush on his face and pass it off like its nothing

you both live separately, but he has a key to your apartment

so when you didn't pick up your phone and text him back, he got a bit worried

after his uni classes, he raced to your apartment, mind running wild as to why you weren't responding to him

he unlocks and opens your door, confidently. he takes his shoes off and dumps his bag on the ground while calling out to you.

he hears you cough and his worry only worsened

he beelines to your room, and opens it harshly to see you coughing while laying on your bed, underneath the blankets.

"so you've been sleeping all day, huh?" he got no response from you besides a cough. he lifted a brow, confused as he slowly made his way over to you. he saw your cheeks were flushed and you let out another cough. his hand grazed your cheek, in a lazy attempt to check your temperature. "shit, y/n, you're burning up. why didn't you text me for help?" you melted into his hand as an apology and relief. that he was there.

kei got up and immediately searched for a glass of water and a cold compress. he found medicine on his journey as well and brought it back over to you. he made sure you were fed (he ordered it, he's not that good) and stayed by you until you felt better. he ended up sleeping on the floor in case you needed anything.

~.~

kageyama tobio

mans is clueless however he's not dumb

he rarely takes care of himself but when it comes to you, he'll bend the universe to make sure you're okay.

you'd text him you would be able to have your weekly breakfast date (put in place due to busy schedules) because you were sick and he cancelled everything except volleyball practice to help you.

def the type to call him mom or sister while he's at the store for help

"i just don't know how this is going to help."

"just listen to me and you'll be good," answered his sister. they bickered about getting too much or too little and which food he had to bring you. he stood in line of the store with thirty things all variations of other items in the case you reacted badly, or didn't like it. he checked out and headed immediately to your place.

he got back and saw you were walking to the kitchen. he gasped, "what are you doing out of bed? i told you to stay there." you looked him up and down as he looked also more disheveled than you with five plastic bags in his hands.

"i wanted a water."

~.~

kuroo tetsuro:

def the type to scold you the minute he found out

you're his personal assistant, and when you called in sick he laughed and said some stupid ass shit like "damn i did you that good huh?" even though literally nothing happened the night before.

you hacked out a bad cough and said you were really sick, and his entire mood changed.

trying to be professional, he said "alright, take the day off, and keep me updated."

yet he would send you emails, text-after-text, of him keep you updated.

he would send pictures of him throughout the day captioning it like "picture of my beautiful face to instantly make you better"

you're usually the one that takes care of him, so he's at a loss but he sends you flowers and your favorite takeout in the mail.

'dingdong check your front door,' said the millionth text from kuroo that day. you begrudgingly got up and made you over to the front door, and when you opened it, there it was. you smiled as you smelled the fresh roses and still warm takeout.

'thank you, my love,' you texted back with a picture of it. you took everything inside and downed your food. halfway through eating your phone started buzzing uncontrolably again.

'are u better yet? i'm bored.' you rolled your eyes as he was literally a busy ass businessman, and you only juggled half the work.

'stfu kuroo, im trying to eat then sleep.'

'gobble gobble that shit up, babe!' you questioned everything then and there, with a smie.

feel better lovely! inbox is always open. 💓

#haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei #kuroo testuro #kageyama tobio #haikyuu #tsukishima x reader #kuroo x reader #kageyama x reader #haikyuu fluff

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stuffymcstuffsworld · 8 months

Text

Missing

Sullivan

Have you seen me? The poster asked, and above it was a picture of a single individual smiling at the camera. Sullivan never thought he'd have to make a poster like this.

Tears of frustration escaped his eyes as he clenched the poster in his hands. 48hrs. His child had been missing for 48 hours, and their was no sign of them anywhere.

He and Opera had practically ripped the house apart, searching for them, and Shichirou and Robin had done the same for babyls. His baby was nowhere to be found. They weren't answering their phone either.

Even Kalego had joined the search because the children had become restless. Yet nothing was popping up, not a single lead. What if they never found you?

The thought struck fear into the older demons heart. Would it be like losing Derkila all over again. He didn't think he could handle that. And what about iruma? The poor child would be devastated by your loss.

Iruma

You weren't here. You weren't anywhere. You wouldn't have left without telling anyone, and you were very good at keeping track of time. You didn't just come and go whenever you please like his parents had.

So where were you? And why hadn't you come home yet? Did something eat you? Were you taken? Thoughts raced in his head, filled with panic and uncertainty. He wished you were here right now, just safe and at home.

He just needed you to come home soon. So that everything would be okay again. You made everything better. But what was he to do if you were missing? How could he handle the stress of being the only human in hell?

This was all terrifying. Overwhelming, in fact. He insisted on staying by the door till you came home, and neither Sullivan nor Opera fought him on this matter. They even stayed next to him the entire time. Just waiting.

Opera

Their job was to surve Sullivan to the best of their abilities. That included protecting you and young master iruma now. But now you were missing. How useless they felt for not even realizing that you were gone.

One day, you were there groggily making your way downstairs for breakfast the next you weren't. No more sounds of your rushed steps when you made a breakthrough or the quiet tiptoes when you wanted a snack. Opera could only stare at your empty seat in silent rage.

Where were you? There wasn't a trace you had even left the house. Your shoes and keys are in the exact same spot you always left them. Nothing in your notes showed any signs of wanting to leave. There was nothing indicating that anyone had snuck it to steal you either.

So, how exactly had you vanished? They were ashamed to call themselves a part of Lord Sullivan's security detail. Opera tried to recall anything that might be a clue as to why you were missing. But had nothing.

Not realizing they were polishing the glasses so hard, one of them cracked under their grip. Oh, this was your favorite set... you would be so upset when you came home. Opera's ears drooped at the thought. If you came home.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■ Well, let in never be said that you wouldn't fight tooth and nail for your family. You eyed the pile of unconscious demons before you. It had taken much longer than you had thought.

When they had somehow summoned you to their little hide away, you had been cross. You hadn't even put on your shoes or brushed your hair yet. You had a toothbrush in your mouth still.

No respect! Absolutely no respect for self hygiene. It took you almost three days to teach them all a proper lesson about summoning anyone. You huffed and grabbed one of their phones and started dialing.

"Speak quickly. I don't have time to play games!" Irritated as usual, but there was also a mix of desperation in that tone. "Hi, doggy," you said casually.

"WHERE ARE YOU??!??!?!" His voice blaring through the speakers and you blinked started for a second. "I'm not really sure, I was hoping you could track me through this number." You scratched the back of your head before pulling your head back in disgust.

Sticky, blood and sweat mixing together and making tangled knots in your hair. You would need a shower when you got home. "I'm on my way over now, don't you dare move!" Kalego-Sans voice drawing your attention back into place.

"Oh, you might want to bring the authorities while you're at it." Quickly doing a head count to make sure all of your kidnappers were still in place. "YOU WERE KIDNAPPED!!!!" Another scream.

"You say it like I asked to be taken from home while still in my pajamas. This isn't my fault doggy." You stomped your foot against the ground in irritation, knowing it was childish to argue.

"With you and your sons track record, I'd say otherwise." He muttered. "Will you please just get the authorities to come pick this garbage up so I can go home and cuddle with my family!" You snapped.

You were tired, sweaty, and definitely throwing away these pajamas as soon as you stepped through the door. You were most certainly cuddle deprived as well, but you tried not to think about that part. You just wanted to go home.

It turns out you were maybe three hours away from whatever location Kalego-San had been searching for you in, but thankfully, he found you and had the demon patrol trailing right behind him. They found you sitting lazily on top of your pole of would-be thugs on the phone.

"Yes, yes, he just got here. I have to turn this phone in for evidence, so I have to hang up. I will borrow his phone and call you back as soon as I finish giving a statement. Yes, I love you too. I'll be home before you know it. Yes, of course. I don't mind at all. You three set everything up, and I'll be home as soon as possible."

You hung up and tossed the phone to Henri. "I'd like to get back to my family as quickly as possible. I'll make my statement now." Of course, that took another hour of questioning, but the demon was being as thorough as possible as quickly as he could. Once that was completed, kalego lifted you up and flew you back home.

"Why did you call me?" He asked mid flight when you finally got off the phone with your family again. You blinked. "Why not you?" You asked back.

"You weren't going to coddle me or get over emotional. You came and got me while making sure my kidnappers were also properly arrested. What a good doggy! You listen well." You joked. He scowled. "I will drop you."

"You won't. You're afraid of what Opera will do if they know you did." You could feel him shudder. You yawned. "I can't wait to get home and shower..." You muttered sleepily. "I highly doubt you can stand, let alone shower by the time we get back." The demon scoffed fondly.

"Mean doggy, I take back all the nice things I said." The low chuckle being the last thing you heard as you drifted off. When kalego arrived, he quickly shoved you into the crying Sullivan's awaiting arms but was too slow to escape his crying students hugging and thanking him for bringing you back home.

You would owe him for this later. As he pryed, a crying Lied off his leg and tried to wrestle off the squeezing Goemon. He was not one for emotional displays of any kind. That was your department. Thank you very much.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #reader #iruma suzuki #lord sullivan #opera #kalego sensei #naberius kalego

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brunnerasposts · 2 years

Text

"Pancakes for Dinner"

S.H. x Female Reader

Summary: You prepare a confession to Steve in your bathroom mirror to which he ends up overhearing

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: st2-4 spoilers, friends to lovers, fluff

Additional Notes: this was inspired by the song Pancakes for Dinner by Lizzy McAlpine. It's a really cute song and I recommend giving it a listen! I also hope you enjoy this fanfic! It was a struggle to write and idk if I like how it turned out. It's just kinda there lol. Likes, comments, and reshares are always appreciated :)

Tags: @robschneiderfan bc she picked for me to write this one first lol

"Okay," You spoke to yourself, inhaling deeply as your grip on the bathroom sink tightened. Slowly, you closed your eyes and exhaled that breath in hopes of calming the sudden nerves that had developed in your body.

While decent in size, your bathroom suddenly felt as though it was suffocating you. From the bright fluorescents to the squeaky clean tiles, you felt out of place. Sure, you had panicked earlier today and scrubbed your bathroom clean top to bottom, but that was because you only wanted to invite him over to hang out. Impulsively, you had decided to invite over your best friend not to just hang out. You were planning to confess your feelings.

You had a massive crush on Steve Harrington.

Although you hadn't known Steve until these past two years, you both had gone through a lot together. From fighting demodogs to running from Russian commies, you both had experienced a lot of traumatic events. You both didn't truly recover after everything so you supported each other for comfort.

Sometimes Robin would hang out with you both, but it was usually just the two of you. She claimed that there was too much tension between you guys whenever she visited and it made her want to barf. You weren't even sure what she was talking about half the time.

Steve didn't like you, you knew that. With the charisma that boy had and his flirtatious manner, he would have begun flirting ages ago if he really did like you. No matter what reason you had, Robin didn't seem to care.

Before your mind could begin to think anymore negatively, you opened your eyes and stared at your reflection.

You had about fifteen or so minutes to quickly plan what you were going to say. It was now or never, right?

Taking another deep breath, you relaxed your once tense shoulders and acted as though Steve was in front of you.

"Steve," You began, your voice cracking so you cleared it and started again. "Steve, can we talk?" You asked the mirror, the silence filling your head. Pretending that he said yes, you sighed softly.

"I don't wanna be forward," You gulped softly, your grip on the sink loosening, "and I don't wanna cross a line." You chose your words cautiously, not wanting to risk messing up and causing that to happen for the real confession. "I don't want to say too much, so..." You groaned out in frustration as you were at a loss for words.

You brought your hands to your face, hiding behind them. "God, why is this so scary to tell you?" You asked no one in particular. It wasn't like you had never confessed to a guy before. The only difference was, Steve was too good to lose. If he didn't feel the same way, would things become awkward?

"I'll just say something else." You told yourself, waving your hand as if to smack away the imaginary thought bubbles over your head. Deciding your mirror tactic wasn't working, you reached into a cabinet and began to search for some sort of perfume or deodorant. Was it hot in there?

God, this was so stupid!

You shouldn't have to be standing in your bathroom, prepping a speech just to tell some guy you like him. Even if it was Steve, what difference did he make from everyone else?

"What the hell do I have to lose if I just tell you?" You asked, knowing the answer to that question.

Him.

You could lose Steve. All the memories you guys once shared would be just that. Memories. Not a single one would be made after this, you were sure.

"I—" You cut yourself off, hesitant to even speak. What could you say? You didn't want to come right out and just tell him the way you felt. You wanted to ease into it and not scare him off. Maybe describe what you wanted to do with him if he felt the same way?

Daydreamed scenarios began to replay in your mind, making you smile. "I wanna have pancakes for dinner." You began, chuckling to yourself over how silly that sounded. What other slightly silly stuff could you say?

"I want to get stuck inside your head," It only seemed fair as he was always stuck inside your head.

"I want to have a song that we love together and we listen to it whenever we need cheering up or a reminder of the other." You hummed a bit, not even sure what song that would be for you both. Were you sounding slightly insane? Would he freak out if told all of this? It made you nervous.

"I don't think I should tell you this," You sighed, dragging a hand down your face in frustration. This wasn't usually this hard. It used to be a simple matter of 'Hey, I think you're really cute' but now it was so much harder because you actually knew him.

"God, I don't wanna say something weird or wrong." You looked at yourself in the mirror again, seeing the sudden fear in your own eyes. Irrational thoughts came in and out of your mind. What if he freaked and ran out? What if he laughed at you?What if he didn't feel the same way because he was still in love with Nancy?

That was way too real. You saw the way he looked at her. He may try and go out with different girls, but whenever he looked at Nancy, it was a longing gaze.

How could you possibly compete against her?

"But if you're still in love with her then—" Your voice hitched, "I think that I'll leave it there." You couldn't hate him if he did. They went over for almost two years. How could he not love her?

"If that is the case then, then I'll try to hide the way I feel." Your voice was soft, trembling slightly. It hurt to think of helping him find his next girl to go flirt with. It hurt to tell him that he should have fun on his dates. It hurt to give him advice on girls so he'd actually stay with them longer.

Maybe it was better that you remained friends. That's all he saw you as anyway.

"Well, maybe I won't have to say any of this." You hoped, giving yourself a small laugh as you imagined he would say it instead. The only reason it was funny was because you knew that couldn't happen.

As you finished your confessional speech in the mirror, you felt a lot better about the situation, more prepared in a sense. Turning, you opened the bathroom door to go wait for Steve only to find him standing right there in front of you with wide eyes.

You froze, knowing very well just how thin your bathroom door was. "H-How long were you standing there?" You stammered, itching your arm in sudden nervousness.

When he didn't say anything, your heart practically leaped in fear. "It's actually a funny story!" You quickly spoke, laughing nervously as you tried to come up with some sort of explanation for the things you said. It was clear that he heard enough to know it was him who you were talking about.

"There was this uh...this project! Yeah, a project in English where she wanted us to...feel like we were having a conversation." You began, laughing nervously, "And I was like 'That's way too crazy, teach!'. And she was all like, 'Y/N I'm very serious about my assignments', so I wanted to be sure my grade came out okay you know?"

As you continued to babble on with this random excuse you had created, Steve stepped forward and silenced you by pressing his lips onto yours. It shocked you to your very core. What was he doing? Why was he suddenly kissing you? His hands cupped your face gently, moving slowly and kissing softly as to not freak you out entirely.

It was a little late for that though.

Realizing that you weren't kissing back, he slowly pulled away and looked at you with worried eyes. "I really hope that story isn't true otherwise I just kissed you like an idiot." He whispered, searching your eyes for some kind of confirmation.

It took a long few seconds for you to even comprehend the fact that Steve Harrington had just kissed you. Slowly, you shook your head, confusion overcoming you. "I don't understand. Aren't you in love with Nancy?" You questioned, making him shake his head. "Maybe I once was, but not anymore. I sort of started falling for someone else." He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Then no, I was lying before." You admitted with a small breath of relief. It felt so nice to admit out loud. What had you even been stressed about? "I invited you over because I wanted to confess the way I felt. I guess since you overheard all of that, I don't have to." You shrugged your shoulders, squealing in surprise as Steve hugged you and lifted you off the ground.

"Steve, what are you doing?" You let out an airy laugh, not even sure what he was so happy about. "I can't believe I spent half of the year figuring out how I was going to tell you how I felt." He spoke, making you laugh again before leaning down, pressing your lips against his.

The male was quick to react, holding you tight as to make sure you didn't fall. Not only that, but Steve didn't really want to let you go anyway. Your hands snaked up into his hair, finding their way through before tugging slightly. Steve groaned in response, kisses becoming slightly sloppy as you smiled.

"Mm, let me make this up to you." He mumbled, making you part from his lips. "What?" You questioned with a raised eyebrow and the faintest of a smile now. "Yeah, come on! A proper date, what do you say?" He asked, making you hum in thought.

"Why not?" You finally decided, making him set you down. "Alright, let's go." He grinned, making you giggle. "Right now? Can't I go change or at least get my shoes on?" You asked, making Steve chuckle. "Yes, of course. I'll be waiting right here, okay?" He told you, you nodding your head before placing a quick peck to his lips.

Once you turned away, you held your face and felt the heat that was radiating from it. God, Steve knew just how to fluster you. Making your way upstairs, you were sure to move quickly as you didn't want him to wait for too long.

"You can take your time" Steve shouted up the stairs, practically reading your mind. Once you reached your bedroom, you were quick to change from your shorts and shirt, putting on a pair of acid washed jeans with a plain white t shirt. Simple, yet cute and that was what you were hoping for. Going to your vanity, you began to fix your hair when all of a sudden you almost had to turn your lamp on as it was darker outside.

"That's strange." You muttered before jumping at the sound a clock chime. Confused, you stood straight and looked around your room. Something felt off. It didn't feel like your bedroom anymore. "Steve?" You shouted, listening for a response to which you didn't receive.

Could he not hear you? "Steve!" You shouted again, louder this time and yet there was still no response. Thinking he stepped outside, you walked to your window and shifted the blinds. You were met with a sight that shook you to your very core.

The upside down.

How were you back? You didn't cross through anything! As your breathing picked up, you quickly whipped back around to charge downstairs when you found your door was open.

In that doorway was a creature completely new to you. Unlike the demodogs or a demogorgon, it stood as tall as a human. It seemed as though it was covered in these dark vines, hands elongated at the fingers. The skin looked burned to a crisp.

Never had you been more scared than in that moment. You were frozen by the window, slowly pressing yourself into it. "It's almost time, Y/N." A deep masculine voice boomed from the creature, almost having a small growl behind his words. How did it know your name? Why could it speak? What the hell was this thing?

"Y-You're not real." You stammered out, feeling the glass window against your arms as you continued to press yourself into it. "Oh, I am very real, Y/N." He stepped towards you and you suddenly felt as though you couldn't move. As much as you wanted to run, to hide and avoid him, you couldn't. Some sort of force was keeping you still.

"I can hurt you in more ways than one." His elongated fingers raised and he gently grazed your trembling face with them. It was in that moment that you searched for your alarm clock. Your eyes shifted around, even searching for some sort of scripture on your wall. Maybe this was just a nightmare.

Maybe you were experiencing sleep paralysis. This couldn't be real. He couldn't be real.

"Y/N!" A voice made your attention shift forward again, and suddenly it was Steve in front of you, looking worried as he held your arms. "Are you okay?" He asked nervously, brushing your hair out of your face as you shook in his hold.

"What..?" You quickly looked behind you, noticing the bright blue sky outside. What just happened?

"You were up here for a while so I came up to check on you and you were just...standing here, twitching. Your eyes were.." He trailed off, shaking his head before drawing you in for a hug.

You were quick to wrap your arms around him, breath shaky as tears brimmed your eyes. "You're okay, you're okay," He promised, trying to soothe you by rubbing your back.

While it was considerate of him, it wasn't helping. All that was echoing in your head was the distant chiming of a clock. The feeling of that creature's fingers as it grazed your face made you shiver.

What the hell was that thing?

As you tried to calm your breathing, you tried to listen to the sound of his voice. You needed something, anything to calm you down. As much as you tried to focus on his reassuring words, they were beginning to be drowned out by the sound of a clock.

This time it wasn't a chime.

Tick.

Maybe it really was a dream.

THE END...?

#Spotify #steve harrington fluff #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #x reader #vecna/henry/one #vecna

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akutails · 2 years

Text

STANDING IN THE RAIN. - dazai osamu

✁you and dazai have little in common, grief is one of them. warning: grief, loss, no one really dies in this but there are mentions of dead people. notes: decided to repost this but with more feeling, because i initially wrote this without much experience of grief, but after my loss i decided to add some more of my thoughts :) repost from @[yatsugareboyf]

dazai isn’t unfamiliar with grief . in fact, he almost finds comfort in it with how long it stuck around him. he grieves everyday, whenever he passes happy little kids playing the park, whenever he sees a curry place that just opened, hell, whenever he sees his own coat. everyday, dazai is reminded that he is still very much under the hostage of grief.

he knew that he isn’t the only person in the world to experience grief, everyone does at some point. it’s a universal thing. but he only knew recently that you have been grieving too.

which is why you didn’t say a single word when you spotted him sitting against a headstone one cold afternoon. you merely stared at him before walking away to go to your own headstone to sit against. usually, you’d be smiling at him, beckoning him to come closer to coming closer yourself, but today you barely acknowledged his existence as you situate yourself quietly, only a few moments away.

he looked in your direction to see your back facing him. you were standing and looking down at the grave in front of you. you didn’t bring anything except for a small convenience-store-bought coffee. were you mumbling? were you saying anything? were you just staring? he couldn’t tell from the distance. were you crying? he would’ve known if it hadn’t started raining.

since he was under a tree, he never felt it coming, but you were there, still standing on a grave, holding a stale cup of coffee without a care in the world. in a span of a few second, your whole body was soaked in rainwater and the earth under your feet started to mud. you seemed to not mind, since you still stood there. and he understood why.

grief is such a complex thing. it pulls people away from their families and their beliefs, it turns people into cold-hearted murderers and serial killers, it makes people lose their sanity and well-being, and it drives people to stand in mud while it’s raining.

the pain that grief causes one person is immeasurable. you can never truly comprehend whether or not you’ll ever see the end of you grief, nothing can “cure” grief. you can still be happy, successful, blessed with all the riches in the world, and you’ll still be grieving because no amount of things in the world can bring the dead back to life.

even if you flip the world upside down, travel the world in search of an answer, finish the book they never got to finish, create a world where they could finish said book and live happily in peace, they’re still dead, and you’re still alive. you will forever live on without them, even if there is an afterlife waiting for the two of you.

the time you spend grieving them, avenging them, or giving them the peace they deserve, it'll never amount to the time you spent with them. nothing could ever truly replace the hole in your heart where someone used to be, and it will always be sore, always be longing for a fill, a fix, or a replacement. you search the world for an answer, a distraction, a solution, and yet whatever you do it will never be the same again.

so standing in the rain was the least of your worries, and dazai osamu understood. not enough time in the world could heal you, you only get used to the pain.

he stands by you a minute later, not sparing a glance at the grave you’ve been staring at for the past 20 minutes. he looks up at the sky and then at you, who didn’t mind his sudden presence. you knew he was here, after all.

“that coffee probably has rain water already, belladonna.”

you didn’t answer him, but you seemed to snap out of your trance and examined the drenched paper cup that still had “coffee” in it, if you can still call it coffee.

“it’s not for me.”

he knew not to ask for who, what relationship you had with the grave your visiting, anything, really. it’ll come one day. he also can’t bear the inevitable “what about you?” question that comes right after, not right now.

“why are you standing in the rain? you were perfectly fine under that tree.”

“i could ask you the same thing.”

you chuckle emptily, and he wishes he never heard it. it was so devoid of emotion, so far from what he hears from you everyday. it wasn't sadness or anger or disbelief, it was nothing. the nothing you feel when they're forever gone.

“love and grief makes you do silly things, no? like stand in the rain.”

love and grief made dazai leave the only “home” he’s ever known to pursue a life he knew nothing about, the complete opposite of his previous life. it made him finally try to become a better person, see the world through the eyes of someone who wants to live. the biggest change in his life, and he doesn’t even know if he’s doing it right.

he has a ghost of a smile on his lips, “yeah. stand in the rain.”

the two of you stand in the rain with no clear motive of leaving anytime soon. after a few moments have passed, you placed the coffee besides the headstone and faced the tall man besides you.

“let’s go?”

you nod silently, letting dazai hold your hand softly as he guides you away from the grave.

╰─▸ ❝ @[akutails]'s work is not open to reposts, plagiarism, and the likes. (09/13/22). reposted from @[yatsugareboyf].

#✎ love letters #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu #bsd dazai x reader #dazai imagines #bsd imagines #dazai hurt/comfort

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manchasama · 2 years

Text

Emmet has been searching for Ingo for…a long time now.

Oh, he tried to stick to his normal schedule, tried to rely on the police to investigate, tried to run the subway alone.

What was his wakeup call was that no matter how hard he tried to stay focused, he couldn't be serious about pokemon battles when his worry about Ingo took up so much of his attention. He didn't want to be battling, he wanted to be searching, helping. And it was a disservice to everyone who came so far to fight him. If he couldn't be serious, it wasn't fun for anyone. Moreso than his own feelings, it was the heart of the battle subway. If stepping down was what was best for the subway, that is what he'd do.

No one was happy about it, but everyone understood in their own way. The depot agents as a unit wished him well and promised he was welcome back whenever, no matter what. Someone would take the place of Ingo and Emmet, but everyone knows the battle subway is best when they are there. Their positions are waiting for them when Emmet returns with Ingo. (Emmet is heartened by their certainty.)

Elesa is a mess as well. Ingo was one of her best friends, and she was trying so hard to be there for Emmet, but his decision to leave his job to search for Ingo struck her as worrying. She didn't want him to fall to despair, didn't want him to harm himself over this, didn't want him to give up his life chasing rumors down. It would take a bit, a good heart to heart, but Emmet would reassure her that this was best right now. He wasn't despairing, but he was determined to leave no stone in the world unturned trying to find where Ingo went. She extracted a promise from him to take care of himself, to keep in contact. He did, and he does.

Since there are no clues to be had about the disappearance, Emmet immediately starts looking into sources that could give him answers through magical/mystical means. And that means legendaries and mystic pokemon. He of course tries Unova's legendaries first, imploring them over the loss of his twin. He was hopeful, since he and Ingo were so closely modeled after the legends Unova was built upon, that it might mean something. Might give him an edge of sympathy that the dragons would want to help reunite them. But they didn't answer his call. (I don't believe the MCs or N keep legendaries, so they are not available to call upon. Even with the MCs help, the dragons do not appear (they sometimes do))

So it goes, so it goes. Emmet zeros in on the pokemon who are said to grant wishes, but does not see hide nor hair of it. He travels to Sinnoh, and for a while it seemed promising. There was a reaction, a swelling of power, of presence. But it fades away, leaving Emmet alone again. For whatever reason they found him wanting perhaps. (Dialga and Palika are unable to mess with the timeline during Hisui, it's too fragile to meddle with. Thus they can do nothing to help Emmet.)

One after the other, Emmet wanders the globe. He keeps an ear open for any mundane rumors as well, just in case. Asks if anyone has seen a man with his face. No one ever has.

What finally breaks his losing streak is when he goes searching for Celebi. He comes across a small group of them. Knowing better than to attempt to attack or battle, he instead lays his case at their mercy. Despite his best efforts, though, the celebi leave him behind. He tries not to let another failure crush him, tries to keep a positive outlook and plan for his next stop. But there's a small noise, a soft squeak, and a tiny celebi pops out in front of him.

It is a young celebi, comparatively weaker, and very new to their powers. Emmet questions it gently, asking if it wants to help him. At the affirmative, he presses further. Does it not have parents that will look for it? Friends? Would they be angry or scared if it left with Emmet? (Perhaps one of the other Celebi flits by, acknowledging the pair but unbothered. It reassures Emmet.) It indicated no, there is no problem to it leaving.

Through some pantomime, Emmet comes to learn that Celebi is certain Ingo is not in that time. It can't tell when he is though. It could be in the future, it could be in the past. Chandelure knows Ingo is not dead, their bond strained but not broken. If Ingo had died, even in the past, Chandelure would know. (It was almost enough for Emmet to attempt to search the future first. But he talked himself back around, that Ingo hadn't died in the past because Emmet had found him and brought him home. That had to be the reason.)

The solution proposed is to travel as far as the little Celebi is able, and to search for Ingo at each stop. Emmet…realizes how long that would take. They would have to search the world over, at each stop. How long would that take? How many jumps would it take them? How long by foot to cover enough ground to confirm that Ingo wasn't there, before they could move on?

So he decides to gamble on a crazy idea. It was a mental exercise he and Ingo did as kids, a fun little project that had no use but was fun/cool to figure out how to do it. The biggest problem was covering enough ground at each stop. On foot wouldn't do. Travel pokemon would be better, but exhausting for all. There was one thing that Emmet was verrrrrry qualified to drive however. It just needed to be made portable.

The idea was to take a standard train engine, and figure out how to make it able to travel anywhere. Impractical in modern times, as it would be more of a hazard than a help. But as quick, safe transport, a home base built in? It's perfect for what Emmet needs. To make it work, he needs a few things. One is of course the train itself. (steam or electric? Hmmmm i'm leaning toward steam so that a pokemon doesn't have to keep it constantly powered. Also aesthetics lol) Next are the tracks. He needs enough for the length of the train he plans to take (engine and a car or two), plus leeway for maneuvering.

The biggest thing he needs however, is a group of psychic pokemon with enough precision to be able to lay and pull the track in a moving railroad. Multiple, so they can take turns/breaks and don't wear themselves down.

Pokemon Emmet tries:

0. Chandelure insists, but Emmet tells her she is more needed to sense for Ingo. Plus she can't do it alone. She still learns telekinesis despite that, and is ready and willing to help if needed. Most skilled, able to teach other Pokemon what's needed.

1. Espurr - First attempt, but he quickly realizes they will not be able to help. They can't control their powers with enough delicacy. However they still really want to travel with Emmet, and so he gains a companion.

2. Emmet hears about Xatu's ability to see past/future. He manages to convince either a Natu or Xatu to accompany him, but they are disinclined to help with the train. Still, they DO indicate he should start traveling to the past. He takes that as a good sign. (I like the idea of a Xatu flying above the train, though their dex says they stay stationary. *shrugs*)

3. Reuniclus - It is more interested in physical battling. Emmet appreciates the enthusiasm, but it doesn't really help his cause. Until it handshakes with Espurr. It's not the same as linking up with another reuniclus, but it is able to help guide espurr to control their powers better. Useful as backup/emergency situations.

4. Emmet had decided to try for the Abra line to help him. If he could convince any to join him, that is. Abras are notoriously hard to catch, and the evolution line is a bit standoffish. However along his journey, Emmet discovers a small colony of Eevees in some distress. The eevees do not want to be battlers, maybe are having a hard time surviving on their own, something. I'm thinking maybe four or five? Emmet's kindness shines through, and they want to accompany him. He allows it, because he does enjoy the company. Perhaps there is a pair of twins that move in unison, and he can't help but look at them fondly (if sadly). The Eevees listen to his explanation of what he needs the Abra line to do, that he needs some strong psychic pokemon who are willing to do this strange task instead of battle or otherwise. Basically Emmet accidentally befriends the Eevees so hard they evolve to Espeons just so they can help him out. He now has his task force.

5. When Elesa learns about what he plans to do, she insists he take her rotom who can learn telekinesis as well. It doesn't hurt to have another backup, and it's all she can do for him since she can't go herself.

(Along the journey, some chimecho take a liking to riding along the current of the train. Their chimes are a soothing constant on the journey. Still wild tho)

Once his preparations are nearly complete, only then does he tell Elesa what he's planning. She is distressed all over again. Because she wants so badly to go with him. But like his original journey, this is not hers. She has her gym, her friends, her family, Skyla, etc. As much as she wants to, she can't give that up. And this is even further away, where she wouldn't even be able to contact them. No, she can't go with. The knowledge is a painful truth. But she believes in him. She gives her blessing, and her unwavering faith that he will return with Ingo.

She implores him to not leave just yet. To promise to wait just a little bit for her. Emmet doesn't know why, but he agrees regardless. He love Elesa, and it's hard for him as well. He can do this much for her.

What she does is go to the gear station depot workers and explain this crazy plan their boss is doing. Like her, they can't go with, but they can do one thing to support him. They set up a stretch of railway, with the intention of upkeeping it while Emmet is gone. When they present it to him, they explain that when he returns, he'll need a place to pull into station. They will make sure it's ready to receive their bosses home.

(Best end, as soon as Emmet leaves, he also returns. Because celebi knows exactly when and where to go, its able to return them right away. Emmet is beaming at them all, because they may have expected a long wait, but his early return is a great surprise. Ingo, of course, accompanies him.)

The train is both transport, protection, and sleeping/living quarters. It's able to hold all their pokemon, plus the new ones, and an astonishing number of Joltiks. The reason to utilize tracks and let the train run as a normal train is that the train is heavy. It would take considerable more pokemon to carry it at speeds and lengths that they need. Track is much easier to move, though it does require precision and concentration. The Espeons get really good at it, however. Especially the twins :>

So begins Emmet's journey through time in search of Ingo. He retains his positive outlook, never letting the failures get him down. Sure, there are the occasional rumors that pop up about the phantom train that can be seen traveling the countryside, but it's never seen twice, and usually doesn't even get a footnote in history. Emmet isn't careless about driving near towns or roads, and those start to vanish the further back they go. Eventually he's a little more lax about being spotted.

When he arrives in Hisui, he arrives in the Obsidian Fieldlands (not that he knows it). He knows the general part of the world he's in, Sinnoh, and decides to circle the flat side of the region before heading for the mountains. Whoever his lookout pokemon are warn him about the town, and he plans to give it a wide enough berth (but is a liiiittle sloppy about it and is closer than he normally would.) Or perhaps he planned on stopping and asking them if they'd seen Ingo. Either way, he's chugging along obliviously.

A survey corp manages to send warning back to the town ahead of the train. It stirs a bit of a panic, because what is this strange metal contraption heading for their town?? Laventon is able to identify it as a train, though the fact that it is running off tracks (he can't see them perhaps) is astounding! Kamado wants to know who is driving and what they want, ofc.

Ingo tho…of course he was in Jubilife at the time. Perhaps the MC was around, and they were battling. Either way, when the town stirs to life to respond to the potential threat heading their way, he joins in to see what's up. And when he sees the train…

I don't think he remembers, I think he just acts. I'm leaning toward him whistling a call to stop the train, some known signal that can be heard over the noise. (Chandelure is beside herself, because she can feel him. She heads off the train before it stops, and gets first dibs at hugs.) Emmet immediately throws on the breaks, barely giving warning to his passengers to brace themselves for an abrupt stop. He too doesn't even need to question it. As soon as the train stops, he's out and running. Doesn't stop until he's hugging the life out of his brother.

(When I first was writing this out, I did have some more detailed scenes in mind. Alas, lost to the whims of my brain. Road Trip AU tho! Ironically most of these notes are not the travel section, but this idea was spawned by my comments on This Song in This Post. :)

#fun times ahead #pokemon #submas #submas road trip #pokemon writing #some of what i lost was around elesa #just her thoughts in a bit more detail #i need ideas on emmet's journey #ironically this is the second emmet on a journey fic idea ive had #i just want him to be ok :<#and have some agency

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seven-stars-in-his-palm · 4 months

Note

hi mania. i am so tired and bored. im gonna spam yew with stan gifs because he is the guy ever and i think about him frequently

tbh this above gif is so parallel ford coded. he would fuckinh say that, probably with different wording but also he is so Issues. imagine if the kids gave ford the truth teeth somehow. i mean it technically wouldn't rlly work because unlike stan he Still Has teeth but imagine like hypothetically if it happened. imagine the Horrors. like

"hi grunkle ford :) how're you feeling today?"

"oh! good morning, mabel! i'm just grieving the loss of my brother whom i haven't seen in 30 years. i feel personally responsible for driving him away and possibly leading to his untimely death! how are you doing today :]"

"😶"

tbh. in canon truth teeth stan wpuldve probably let something slip about ford but it's a cartoon gotta Suspend ur Disbelief to imagine that somehow didn't happen

actually like. how do the truth teeth work that way. the wearer clearly has no problem with what they're saying. do they not realize they're telling the truth when they didn't mean to??? do they think they're still giving the same answer as they would've pre-truth teeth??? is lying by omission possible??? could you just pull a Selective Mute and not say anything and avoid telling the truth that way . i mean given you knew you were wearing the teeth but

actually that doesn't even make sense bc in the gif i just sent stan started getting existential Completely unprompted. that makes the chances that he didn't allude to ford that day Even Lower. again it's a cartoon so i'll accept it but like wow

god i sound like dipper rn. sorry for dumping a full analysis in ur inbox LMAO. speaking of dipper here's a gif of the storyboards where he kills dippy fresh bc that shows up if you search stan pines gifs and scroll reallu far down ig

this should've happened idc 💔 letmmy boy KILL

I’m thinking about truth teeth now…. Like what I thought happened was what u said, which is that Stan doesn’t know what he’s saying at all so the truth is completely unaware but also prompted. like I guess it goes both ways where if he’s asked a question he’ll answer unwillingly because well it’s FORCING you to tell the truth, and whenever he has a particularly truthful thought it just comes out. Which is even more odd why ford wasn’t mentioned….. hmmmmm. unlike you I Questioning that, especially since alex knew stan was gonna have a secret twin for most of this….. hmm. HMM. anyways. Yes Yes Yes on the ford thing. They all need therapy. God

#also u can still call me mania it’s a cool name :)) outside of the church/old mutuals and the ask blog is iffy that’s why I changed it :^#I don’t mind it at all!! It’s still me >:))#hath are perceived #the guys (with a z!)#gravity falls #also it’s raining rn. I love it #ALSO ALSO I love analysis I just drop things like that all the time lmao

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auroracalisto · 1 year

Text

reborn — the reader is awoken by a witch stabbing their chest—a witch far too happy to send a message to the mikaelson family. only, she doesn't count on them finding the reader so soon. word count: 1.08k words tw: stab wound/knife, canon-typical violence, dying reader a/n: OKAY I KNOW WHAT I SAID. no more tvdu fics. but i lied. i had this in my drafts with only 100 words written on it and then i ended up writing more. so like... idk. might continue this. could definitely write a part two, but idk if i will.

Your eyes shot open as a gasp tore from your throat—the burning pain of a knife sat dangerously near your heart. Any closer and you would have surely died on the spot.

You wracked your brain, searching for the memory of how you had gotten here. You couldn't remember.

The last thing you did remember was Camille telling you to just go for it—that the only way you would know if Elijah truly felt the same was if you went and told him instead of living in your blissful fantasy or never saying anything; of one day expecting him to realize that you loved him, and that he wanted nothing more than to profess his undying love for you (not that it would ever happen, but it was nice to dream).

And then, nothing. You remembered nothing, except for the searing pain that now ran through every damaged nerve in your chest.

The witch standing in front of you left the knife inside of your chest, knowing you would bleed out far faster if she were to remove it. Leaving it inside would cause the most pain, both for you and for Elijah, whenever he found you—he would realize as he saw your lifeless body that you died in pain. Something he could have easily prevented if he were there—if he had kept his dirty hands out of her business. She never counted on Elijah knowing exactly where to find you. She expected him to take forever, searching far and wide for his beloved.

She finally let go of it, a bit of surprise washing over her. You hadn’t screamed. Maybe it was the shock your body was under—something about your pained expression told her that her speculation was right.

“You know,” she smiled faintly, but the expression was far from kind. “You remind me of my younger self. So full of life... So... in love with love,” she said, tilting her head as she watched you. “So in love with the Mikaelsons.”

"You know nothing," you seethed, teeth clenched as you spoke. Your eyes squeezed shut, tears of pain threatening to spill. You struggled to breathe, each breath more laborous than the last.

She just laughed, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your cheek, leaving a deep red lipstick mark. Elijah would know exactly who it was from—they all would. She gently flicked the knife with the end of her pointer finger, watching as you writhe and cry in pain.

She couldn't help but laugh again, bloodied hand gently caressing your cheek.

"Well, then. Thank you for helping me send a message to the Mikaelsons. I'm sorry it had to be in such a manner, but as you know, duty calls," she said with a grin. "You don't always have a choice, now, do you?"

You didn't answer, jaw clenched as you glared at her. Your vision was hazy, body warm.

She left, but you didn't quite know when. In fact, it seemed as if time was blending together—you didn't know when you had gotten there, or how long it had been since she shoved the knife in your chest.

You took in a deep breath, pain searing through your body. You let out a sob, the voice in the back of your mind screaming at you to get out. To survive. But you weren't going to. There was no way you were going to survive this. The blood was intense. It was down your front, dripping off of the chair and into the floor.

Was all that yours?

You looked at it, pupils blown out from the pain and blood loss. Surely, that wasn't all yours. That was a lot of blood. Did humans even have that much blood?

As your eyes began to flutter shut, you heard it—a voice shouting your name. Two voices. Or maybe it was just one. You couldn't really tell.

Weakly, you tried to yell. But your jaw wouldn't move. Your tongue was unmoving in your mouth, your body completely paralyzed. You were dying, weren't you?

A crash came from the door of the room you were in; wood splintered against the floor as a man kicked it in. Klaus stood there, eyes wide.

This was his fault.

Elijah shoved past his brother, rushing to you. He cupped your cheeks, fingers gently pressing against your pulse. He could hear it, yes, but feeling it made more sense to him. There was so much going on, and with Camille also being near, he was almost scared that he was only hearing hers.

Elijah bit into his wrist, nearly shoving it into your lips. He forced his blood into your mouth, terrified that he would lose you. He couldn't. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't live without you.

Klaus walked up behind him, but Rebekah stopped him from doing anything more. She frowned, walking over to her brother and the person of his affection.

"Lay them down," she said. "When I untie them, get them onto the floor."

Elijah just nodded, holding onto you as Rebekah undid the ropes. He quickly lowered you onto the ground, looking up at Rebekah in disbelief.

"It's not too late," he said. "Surely, it's not too late."

Rebekah watched her brother for a moment, frowning. "It... it shouldn't. They're not dead, yet. Now, they have your blood in their system. They should heal."

"Should they?" Elijah questioned, looking down at you. "I didn't want this life for them. If they die—"

"—if they die, then they will have you to depend on." Rebekah got to her knees beside her brother, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Klaus and I will go after the witch. She couldn't have gotten too far, and Y/n's blood should still be on her. We will find her. Stay with them. You should... you should be the first person they see when they wake."

He only nodded, keeping his eyes on you.

He said nothing more to his siblings as they left, finding Camille on the way out. Her heartbeat was no more—he only heard yours. And yours was fading.

"No," he whispered, hands gently reaching forward and grasping the knife. You were dying, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He pulled the knife out of your chest, knowing that the only thing left for him to do was wait for you to wake up, reborn.

For once in his life, he didn't know what else to do other than wait. So, wait, he did.

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stranger-marauders · 2 years

Text

shattered

seven: the reunion

chapter summary: Kate begins the drive to the only other place she can think of going. Steve, Dustin, and Max visit the high school.

chapter warnings: language, canon-typical violence, grief, parent loss

word count: 2.5k

series masterlist | masterlist

KATE STOPPED AGAIN right before the Ohio and Indiana border: she was only a couple of hours from Hawkins now.

She wished her dad were here. She was a lot like him; he would understand how she felt, would tell her what to do about all of this. He would understand the everything and nothing that she currently felt, the fast-paced and slow-motion of it all. She didn't know what to do to fix it, and she wished she had her dad to tell her how to do it.

Realistically, her dad would probably be disappointed in her right now. She'd fought off a government agent, and now she was driving hundreds of miles just on a hunch. At the same time, Kate realized that if he were still around, she wouldn't have even let him be disappointed in her: Jim Hopper probably would've done the same thing in her position, and being anything but proud of her would render him a hypocrite.

As Kate got closer to town, she thought about her plan.

She'd decided that once she got to Hawkins, after searching the lab for any discrepancies, the best place to stop would be the Wheelers' home. Nancy would most likely be down to help her or at least offer her a place to stay while she was in Hawkins, and that way, she didn't have to see Steve on such short notice. She couldn't think of anyone else that would for sure be in Hawkins that wouldn't immediately tell him she was in town.

Kate didn't know why she cared so much. It wasn't like he hated her or anything; he still sent her letters to check on her. That's what she assumed, anyway. She didn't know for sure, mostly because she hadn't opened more than a few of them without sobbing, but she knew he didn't hate her, at least. She, however, didn't want to make herself feel worse than she already did.

She didn't want to see the aftermath of what she'd done.

Steve, Dustin, and Max were already walking the hallways of Hawkins High School when Robin called for them over the walkie.

He felt weird being back inside of the high school. It wasn't like he hadn't been there recently, as he had literally been at the school the other day for the basketball game. He hadn't walked through the halls in a long time, other than the one that led directly to the gym. He made his head feel fuzzy that he had broken in at night with Dustin and Max, the hallways completely empty, and the lights in the entire building shut off.

Hearing Robin over the radio only made him walk to the counselor's office faster.

"Dustin, do you copy?" Robin called.

"Yeah, I copy," he answered, somewhat out of breath.

"So, Nancy's a genius," she started. "Vecna's first victims date back all the way to 1959. Her shot in the dark was a bull's-eye."

"Okay, that's, uh... totally bunkers, but I can't really talk right now."

"Wait, what are you doing?"

"Breaking and entering the school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files."

"Can you repeat that?"

"Just get your ass over here, stat!" Dustin finally said. "We'll explain everything."

Max unlocked Ms. Kelley's office door with the key she'd swiped from her house, and once Steve and Dustin followed, she went straight for the filling cabinet.

"It's like a mini-Watergate or something," Dustin said, almost too excitedly. "Hawkinsgate!"

"Wait a sec, didn't those guys get caught?" Steve asked softly. He might've been dumb, but he did remember that from his government class. He was pretty sure he was alive for that one.

"Holy shit," Max said. Steve and Dustin walked over to her whenever she pulled a file from the cabinet.

"You found it?"

"Yeah, and not just Chrissy's file. Fred was seeing Ms. Kelley, too."

Max looked through Chrissy's file, Dustin watching over her and holding a flashlight over it as she did so. Steve leaned against the desk, holding the other file in question as he peered over her shoulder.

"Can I see Fred's file?" Max asked.

"Yeah," Steve replied softly, handing it over to her. He twisted around whenever Max opened the file quickly—she must've found something.

"Max? What is it?" Dustin asked, growing concerned. Whenever she didn't answer, only stared off into space, he called for her again. "Max! Max!"

"Max?" Steve asked. He started to pat her shoulder, trying to get her attention.

"Max, come on."

She finally shook herself back to reality, jolting upward as she tried to catch her breath, almost like she'd snapped herself out of a trance or something. Steve and Dustin only looked at her in concern.

Nancy and Robin had raced over to the high school as fast as they possibly could whenever Dustin had told them what happened over the radio.

Max had taken them to the spot of her vision. The end of the hallway in question was now completely blank, looking as normal as the rest of the school this time of night, but now, only the urgency showing in her voice remained as she spoke. "It was here. Right here!"

Nancy hesitated, but she kept her voice steady. "A grandfather clock?"

"It was so real." She didn't think she'd ever be able to erase it from her memory. "And then, when I got closer, suddenly I just..."

"It was like she was in a trance or something," Dustin said whenever she'd trailed off. "Exactly what Eddie said happened to Chrissy."

Max turned around to face the group of four behind her, her eyes almost grazing over. "That's not even the bad part."

Max took them back into Ms. Kelley's office to show them the files as she spoke.

"Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms. Kelley for help. Uh, they both were having headaches, bad headaches that just wouldn't go away. And then... then the nightmares. Trouble sleeping. They'd wake up in a cold sweat, and then they started seeing things. Bad things. From their pasts. And these visions, they just... they kept on getting worse and worse until eventually... everything ended."

Robin looked back up at Max from the file. "Vecna's curse."

"Chrissy's headaches started a week ago," Max said, her voice almost broken. "Fred's, six days ago. I've been having them for five days." Tension seemed to come over the room in a thick coat. "I don't know how long I have. All I know is that, for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than twenty-four hours after their first vision." Max's voice started to crack as she continued. "And I just saw that goddamn clock, so—" she breathed shakily before she continued— "looks like I'm gonna die tomorrow."

Before any of the five could say anything else, a clang came from outside the room. Steve looked back to the ground before walking toward the door. "Stay here."

Steve walked toward the door, the rest of the group watching him as he stopped, grabbing the tall lamp that sat at the door. He grabbed it without a second thought, holding it defensively as he walked outside.

Once he was in the hall, he grasped it tight, only looking in front of him for something that could've been coming their way. He didn't know what he was looking for, exactly, but he was ready for anything that came at him. The group of four walked out of the room, following Steve carefully. They all jumped when they heard another clang, stopping in their tracks as footsteps approached them rapidly. Steve held up the lamp in anticipation, yelling with the rest of the group whenever Lucas appeared around the corner.

"It's me!" Lucas shouted, flashlights illuminating his face.

"Lucas?" Nancy called.

"Jesus, what's wrong with you, Sinclair!" Steve shouted, setting the lamp back down on the ground.

"I'm sorry," Lucas said, completely out of breath.

"I could've taken you out with this lamp!" Steve held the lamp in question again, shaking it for added effect.

"Sorry, guys. Sorry. I was... I was biking for eight miles." Lucas stopped, holding his finger up at them as he leaned against the wall, panting. "Give me a second. Shit." Once he caught his breath even slightly, he came back, even though he wasn't completely breathing correctly. "We've got a code red."

"What?" Steve asked, one of his hands on his hip.

Lucas, however, walked right past him. "Dustin. I've been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they've gone, like, totally off the rails. They're trying to capture Eddie, and they think you know where he is. You're in terrible danger."

"All right. Yeah, that definitely sucks, but we've got bigger problems than Jason now," Dustin said, trying to keep his voice level. He only looked back at Max, and Lucas didn't say a word.

Max was going to die tomorrow.

Kate couldn't think of a time when she'd sped so fast into town.

Her first thought had been to go to Hawkins Laboratory and make sure nothing was going on there. She went inside the abandoned building, flashlight in one hand and revolver in the other, making sure that everything that resided in that building was dead and gone.

She hadn't even driven past Hawkins Laboratory since the day that she'd last been there. She hadn't had any reason to, really. Back when she lived in Hawkins, she knew that even going around there would be a bad idea. Now, though, even being in the same room where it had happened hadn't done anything to her. That creeping sense of dread, the knots that twisted in her stomach made her feel lightheaded for only a moment whenever she entered the room where she almost died in, the one where Bob Newby had died for her in, but she had to keep pushing.

Kate had thought for only a moment that she might slip into another episode. Her heart was beating fast enough for her to experience one, and her jittery hands certainly weren't helping her case. She tried to brush it off as she looked around for her sister. She even made it as far back as where the old sensory deprivation tank was—where the first gate was. At least she had physical proof that they weren't trying to open that again.

She thought for a moment that maybe that was where the government would bring El, bring her sister back to where she'd gotten her powers in the first place, but it had been a long shot. Whenever she found it empty, still as dead as the day that she'd left it, back all that time ago.

When she'd finally left the building, she sped through the streets of Hawkins again. She knew it didn't matter, partially because she knew that no one would be driving even on the main roads so late at night. She tried not to think much about her surroundings, only focusing on making it to the Wheeler house.

Kate still hadn't come up with a great explanation for why she'd driven nearly eleven hours to come to Hawkins, of all places, especially without telling anyone. There wasn't any reason for her to come back. Realistically, she didn't have another choice: not right now. She had to find El, and if going to Hawkins was a way to find her, so be it.

She knew she couldn't tell Nancy about the government agents, especially not about the one that she'd left unconscious in a random New York City alleyway. She didn't want this to be a situation where the Wheelers had a nickel for every time they harbored a federal fugitive on accident, but that was how it was going to have to be in order to find her sister.

Part of her wished she'd gathered the courage on that ten-and-a-half-hour car ride to call Steve. She hated that she hadn't. She hated that part of her didn't want to call him, all because she knew that he was probably extremely busy at the current moment. He probably wasn't even home to begin with. It was a Sunday night on spring break: he was most definitely on a date with someone, and if he wasn't swapping spit with one of the prettier girls in town, he would probably be working a closing shift at Family Video. She told herself she wasn't allowed to care anymore, though; she wasn't allowed to feel jealous. She'd made the conscious decision to push him away, to break his heart. Everything that Kate touched seemed to suffer and die, and she didn't want Steve to be a part of that, too. She couldn't stand it. That was why she had to stay away, even now—she loved him too much to truly lose him.

When Kate pulled into the Wheelers' driveway, she tried to clear her head as she cut the power to her car. She looked over to her glovebox, shaking her head as she pulled her dad's old revolver out of the glovebox again, tucking it between her shirt and her jeans on her back.

That had been one of the things Kate had taken of her dad's without telling anyone, partially because she didn't think it was anyone's business but hers. She'd obtained the permit for it before she had even gone back to school. It was in her car just in case she ever had to deal with anything interdimensional or Soviet again. While she trusted the Wheelers, she didn't trust the town of Hawkins. Not in the slightest.

Kate had taken a step or two toward the Wheelers' front door whenever she heard something move in the bushes on the side of the house.

Something must've been outside the basement.

Her hand grazed the revolver tucked on her backside, listening for something else. She wasn't taking any more chances. Never again.

When the bushes rustled again, she slowly took a step or two forward, wrapping her hand around the handle of the gun. She pulled the revolver from its tucked position and held it out in front of her defensively when she saw something run out in front of her. She completely snapped out of her stance whenever she heard yelling, more specifically her name.

"Jesus Christ, Kathy, put the goddamn gun down!"

Without a second thought, she dropped the gun out of her hands, then scrambled to pick it back up and put it in her pocket—she was so glad she hadn't cocked it. She looked in front of her, barely able to function.

Steve.

Her eyes widened, face etched in horror. "I–I—"

"What the hell are you doing here!" he asked her, shouting louder than he probably should have. "Y–You can't be here. I–I can't believe you're... you're here. No one... No one told me you were coming, you... you can't be here."

She gave him an annoyed look, throwing her hands up in the air. "This is why I didn't call you!"

He went on, almost like he hadn't heard what she'd said. "I–I would've told you not to come with everything going on—"

Her annoyed expression quickly changed into a confused one. "Wait, what're you talking about? Is..." She cut herself off. "What happened? Did something happen?"

He gave her a worried expression, his eyes going wide as he ran his hair through his hair. "Yeah. Yeah, something bad."

next chapter

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galacticwildfire · 6 months

Text

Fire Meet Gasoline | Poe Dameron

Four

Poe Dameron x Solo Original Character

Hope Solo’s haunted by the night the temple burned. Having gone rogue she hunts the First Order in search of answers until a fateful encounter with Poe Dameron brings her back to the Resistance and Leia puts her daughter under his command to find Luke Skywalker.

Word count: 8.2k

Tags/warnings: leia pov, poe pov, snap being a wingman, poe being mortified but still curious, leia debating if it's better or worse for her sanity to make hope and poe partners, references to family violence and other related themes of broken family, references to murder and kidnapping of children, references to the spice runner plot. typical r2 and threepio.

All my stories are written for adults with adult themes, I use appropriate tags but read at your discretion.

A/N: no hope pov this chapter, it was moved to the next one because this one rounded out at 12k originally. moving onto the plot of before the awakening and there'll be much more interaction between hope and poe going forward. this is more plot based and slowburny than what i usually write.

Leia

I put my head in my hands and for the first time in so long weep.

I was harsh, but the words were nothing but the truth no matter how she may have interpreted them. As brilliant as she is I've raised an entitled child who isn't afraid to use her own pain for her personal benefit, never afraid to pull the dirtiest cards to win an argument. To this day I truly do curse pushing her into politics, if she's learned nothing else it's how to argue.

I'd always admired her stubbornness, her refusal to back down, until I happened to be at the receiving end of the very qualities she'd inherited from me. I know she's better than this, I've seen her determination. I just need to give her a reason to believe in the cause again. When I was her age every single day I questioned if what we did was making a true difference, times aren't as desperate as they were then but they will be if she isn't out there fighting how the Resistance needs her to be.

It pains me for her to physically recoil from my touch when in the days after the temple burned she'd laid in my bed with her head in my lap for the first time since she was a child. As I had at the same tender age when an accident had also taken from me someone I'd cared for. I knew she mourned her friend Aylee, a Twi'lek girl Hope had always harboured feelings for but never acted on, but I suspect that had changed shortly before the fire as she'd turned up at my door after they'd fought, high strung and not wanting to return to the temple.

Whatever was said Hope had taken it to heart and has been utterly sour towards the idea of any closeness with anyone since, even as friendship. I'd tried to get her to understand as best I could that one adolescent fight doesn't leave a person scorned for life, and it was during that ordeal she came to the first meeting of the Resistance. She decided to devote herself to the cause until Ben had demanded she return with him as she had also committed herself as his apprentice, and for the first time I saw my daughter look at him in fear even if she returned willingly.

I thought they'd be safe with Luke, and then days later the temple burned.

Whenever I'd tried to tell Hope I had also lost someone who meant something similar to me at that age she couldn't bare to listen to it, especially not when I told her a greater love found me mere years later. She didn't want to hear it, and in truth neither did I at her age either. I think it was then she'd decided the only way to ever avoid feeling such pain was to not love, something I wish I did not understand.

I remember well my own resolution even now and debating the reasons behind it. Because I couldn't trust anyone completely, because I didn't deserve to find love, because I didn't know how to bear another loss like it.

Except I would, I would find love and I would certainly know loss.

As will she.

At only seventeen when she woke from the aftermath of the disaster she pulled away from everyone she cared about, she lost contact with the Naberrie family on Naboo, even with the cousin with whom she had spent her teenage years being raised alongside by my aunt. But she did not just lose a girl she cared for that day, if that was all she'd lost perhaps she would have mourned and healed, she lost far more than that.

She lost herself.

It would not be until the aftermath I'd learn from of the fights that had occurred between my children in the lead up to the disaster. The bruises Lando had seen on her arm and R2 having reluctantly told me Hope had to order him not to stun Ben when he'd lost his mind following the revelation of who Anakin Skywalker became. Her faithful droid, putting himself between her and my son to protect her. He'd already harmed her before that fateful night, that much R2 has confirmed. He is a loyal droid, but when it comes to Hope's welfare he puts that above all else. So when I hear Hope now in tears trying to bring Ben back... it only leaves me feeling ill, knowing she has somehow convinced herself him falling to the darkside was her fault.

The one thing I never thought Ben could be capable of would be harming Hope, but she's right. She has the permanent scars to prove she knows the darkness that's corrupted him better than I ever could, yet even now she still tries to protect him.

Aylee, her friends, everyone had been killed in the blaze along with one other student who we'd found killed from a lightsaber wound, body covered by Luke in a shallow grave nearby. Not that we had ever dared disclose that information to Hope. She insists she remembers little of what occurred after lightning struck the temple, and to this day I still do not want to know which of my children had put Voe in her grave, a girl Ben's own age, not unlike Karé Kun in physical appearance with bronzed skin and short blonde hair. Although deep down I know who had struck the girl down, even if Hope doesn't.

It's been my theory it was her who had left that final lightsaber burn upon Hope, as unfortunate as it is I know if Hope had set out to kill Voe that the girl never would have lived long enough to leave such a wound upon Hope, so I have some peace knowing whatever violence she committed that night was in self defence. But as for after that... I believe Luke had put her in a healing trance to keep her alive until we arrived awhile he pursued Ben and two other students who had taken after him, their bodies also found at a later date off world. We never heard from him again aside from the distress signal he had sent out to us that night.

She suppresses it, I know because whenever I try to broach the subject it's a physical and psychological recoil. She cannot bear it without falling into a panic attack or forcing her way out of the room. It is my mistake having had her believe strength is being unflinching in the face of trauma and only facing it once the fight is over, she has always led by example after all, but in her mind the fight has never ended and I know she fears it never will.

I just wish she would let me in, that she would let me try to help her.

But I know by now that there's one way to get through to her, and it's to put her to work.

In the year since she's left we've been able to assemble two naval squadrons of which I've recently put Poe in charge. Blue Squadron to lead the planetary defence and red to support it. Originally I had planned to promote her and put them under her command, but then the incident happened and here we are. Once she proves herself not just capable but willing I do still intend on putting red squadron under her command with Poe continuing to lead the other. She was specifically trained for planetary defence on Naboo, the apparent offensive training is her own doing, and I know she's always aspired to climb the ranks. For someone who will gladly mock senators and their preoccupations with titles she sure is particular about rank.

Although according to Padmé Amidala's surviving handmaidens,that is also unfortunately inherited.

She's no doubt furious with me that Poe's been made commander of these squadrons while she wasn't, but that much is her own doing. If she weren't so damn stubborn she'd be part of high command by now, but no, I'm having to sit and debate with her the legality of war crimes.

She's no doubt preparing to leave, and if I don't handle this situation carefully I'll lose her for good, but spite always has been her best motivator. She's taken a liking to Poe, or at least found a need to prove herself better, which may just be more effective. Meanwhile Poe's no doubt reeling from mortification considering he's stated his admiration of her quite clearly while looking me in the eye no less. As for her own attraction to him, well, that much is certainly obvious.

Maker help me.

But I could still put this to use for Saber Strike. Individually they are brilliant, the most efficient agents the Resistance has, not because of their skillsets but because they would each die before admitting failure. Poe is perhaps the best pilot of his generation and Hope certainly is of her's. Poe is a person who certainly lives for the thrill of a skirmish but is not prone to violence, if anything he seems queasy about it. Hope meanwhile... I will not be allowing her in the field alone for a very long time if ever.

However, unfortunately the rebellion was not won through righteousness alone. I know Hope's extremism also existed within the Rebel Alliance and that they were the ones who had the stomach to do what needed to be done in those early days. Hope is as much of a realist as they come, a young Luthan Rael if ever one lived, and by my own sad admittance, cursed to use the tools of her enemy to defeat them as much as I may still detest it. It is true that with Luke missing it is Hope who is the last Jedi, the last one who can destroy Snoke, unless...

Regardless of whatever I may wish, my own daughter has deified herself as the self sacrificial saviour who will destroy the darkness at the cost of everything, never stopping for a moment to witness the collateral damage she leaves in her wake. My only fear is how far she would go, how brutally she would destroy herself in the name of destroying Snoke.

Whilst Poe... as much as I do admire him, he has a similar naivety as Luke did when it comes to certain things. His faith in the force and in the light is stronger than that of most Jedi who have lived, although considering his own stint in the Outer Rims it seems to be his choice, rather than ignorance, to believe righteousness and all those qualities my generation tried to instill in our children will prevail in the end. A quality much needed in the galaxy and one I will forever encourage profusely. However, he like most members of the Resistance fail to understand the darkness in the force that shrouds the First Order in secrecy.

I've never spoken a word of it to Poe, but I am very much aware of where he'd ended up before the Navy. Kes had reached out to every contact he had to try to find Poe when he ran away as a teenager and got involved in a similar line of work as Hope now has. I was unable to provide much assistance but Han knew the ins and outs of that world and put Kes on the right course to find his son, although it seems he couldn't do the same for his own daughter. I've never judged Poe for it, just as I can't truly judge Hope for it either. It seems at this point to be a right of passage to end up caught in that sort of mess searching for adventure, or rather escape.

And as Hope would no doubt remind me, it could always be worse. Her brother is proof of that. Another card she isn't afraid to pull.

Poe came out the other end of that brief career and straightened himself out, and while he still most certainly has his moments he is the undoubtedly the more responsible of the two. He and Hope would understand each other quite well if they gave each other the chance, or rather if she let her guards down, and by all accounts he should make the ideal mentor to her. There's nine years between them with Poe going on thirty and Hope twenty one, if they'd met a few years earlier I certainly would have had Poe mentor her. Although it's quite blindingly clear to me now that any sort of mentorship is off the table with how he looks at her, even if I dare say he's backtracked whatever sort of flirtations he no doubt made before I arrived.

To ask Poe to mentor her would be ethically and practically unreasonable now, but a partnership... that is a risky proposition that command will certainly hate me for but it may just work. A partnership between them could either be the best decision I've ever made or the worst. From the quite explicit tension between them I'd unfortunately encountered it could very well end in something command would not approve of or in utter disaster. Even if it did go a certain way... ethically I should be opposed to that thought but I can't deny the fact that they could make quite the partnership in the field and off of it.

However, the fact stands that I cannot trust her to be in the field by herself and I am still very reluctant to put Poe in harms way when I know with her there that the risk of fatalities, on our side at least, would drop to near zero. He would keep her from going too far whilst she would ensure they both make it out alive.

And in the long term... I have high hopes for each of them but there are areas in which each are lacking, flaws they both share. Poe is a brilliant commander, his commitment is absolute, but he is difficult. He doesn't mean to be, but it's just in his nature just as it's in Hope's. If I recall my conversations with Kes he's been that way since he was a child and maker knows Hope was the same. I can handle each of them and their personalities well, at present Poe more so, but command simply cannot. Brance is probably sobbing to himself at this very moment at the thought of both of them on the same base interacting let alone putting them in the field together.

Working together would certainly be a self reflective experience for them both as as for Hope... well, it's past time she learned to work with anyone but herself. Her and Poe mirror each other greatly, there are many benefits that could come of them working together as partners but an even greater chance of it ending in disaster knowing their mutual compulsions towards reacting not just emotionally but also impulsively.

But at this rate I'm willing to try anything, and ultimately whether or not they want to work together is their choice to make. I dare say Poe will jump at the opportunity, if anything I'll be trying to get him to be realistic instead of up in the clouds, but Hope will take more convincing,

"Threepio," I call and he comes in from the next room. "Ensure R2 doesn't leave with Hope, have him download Hope's ship logs before bringing him to me and have Korr ask Poe to meet me here in my office please."

Poe

Whatever happened in that office wasn't pretty from the way she stormed out, so naturally I'm shitting myself as I wait in the hanger to inevitably be called in to see Leia. Only a few months I've been here and I'm about to get put on probation because I was trying to impress a girl who just happens to be the General's daughter, after looking the general in the eye and telling her just how pretty I think she is.

I should have put it together the moment I saw her, I mean technically I did but dismissed it since that was the last place I'd expect to find the kid of Leia Organa. I saw explosions and then a pretty girl with a mouth on her and there really wasn't anything else I thought I needed to know. When we were in the field I was blown away, having expected to see the fighter get blown to bits only for it to take out the ties in a way I've never seen anyone else do in my life. I'm still in awe of it.

It should have clicked in my head that type of pilot had to be the sort of crazy I'd often hear my Dad tell me about when he'd recount his war days with Han Solo, and it sure as hell should have clicked the moment I realised she knew the general and had worked for the Resistance. But again, I was not thinking with my head and I'm pretty sure Leia knows it, hell she said as much.

I'm in trouble, I'm definitely in trouble.

Hope Solo, everyone knows her name. It's almost synonymous with the rest of her family's considering the headlines she made when the truth about Leia's biological father was exposed. Even now I have trouble believing Darth Vader physically could have created someone like Leia Organa. I wouldn't have ever believed it if she hadn't confessed to it being true but people aren't their parents, so that leaves me wondering just who Hope Solo is.

Everyone in the navy was gathered in the cramped mess hall to watch Leia's first and last address to the senate after it was revealed. Many of the people in there had served in the Rebellion and took the attack personally, some felt betrayed by her, but those who knew her personally felt horrified on her behalf. I still remember Wedge Antilles shaking his head as they tried to attack Luke Skywalker as well. But everyone in that room who ever knew Leia was deadly silent when another senator insinuated that her daughter could become what Vader was and holy hell did Hope Solo make a name for herself then.

I vaguely remember a quiet looking girl who took after Leia standing beside her in the senate, now I look back on it I don't know how I didn't recognise her considering her face was all over the holonews for weeks but I'd chalk that up to age and the gritty makeup. When they hurled every ridiculous conspiracy they could at Leia no one expected her daughter to stand up and call half the senate imperial sympathisers, an accusation no one was game enough to even utter. I didn't care much about the politics, didn't get the context of whatever was happening in the senate before then other than the fact they were trying to screw over the navy by cutting funding, but the moment the senators decided to try to spewIimperial propaganda about the Jedi they'd asked for it.

I remember much like every other person in the mess hall watching on stunned as Leia's daughter who'd been silent until that point tore into every single person in that senate and demanded that if Leia were to be crucified then every other person with connections to Imperial leadership should be damned with her. I was sitting close enough to Wedge Antille's close to hear him remark that she was definitely Leia's kid. I've forgotten most of what was said but everyone knew her name after that.

Just days before she'd made headlines for surviving an assassination attempt, but it wasn't just because of that, the media had caught footage of her stopping the blaster bolt mid air and that sent shockwaves through a post Empire galaxy. Anyone who'd called the force bullshit was quiet after that and whatever betrayal some felt was quickly overshadowed by the image of Leia's teenage daughter being almost assassinated outside the steps of Coruscant's Jedi Temple.

There were one or two surviving Alderaanians in the room who only nodded in approval when Leia gave her daughter the title of Princess of Alderaan and whatever powers came with it and- and I flirted with not just the General's daughter, but a princess. Although you sure as hell wouldn't be able to guess it from looking at her, but then again knowing Leia I should've have any pre-conceived notions of what that should look like.

But she isn't just a politician or a princess, she's a Jedi, the last one there is aside from Luke Skywalker. Even if he isn't anywhere to be seen for reasons no one can seem to explain, but all the theories come back to one disaster.

No one knows what really happened, I've thought about it when I've felt that blanket of grief hanging over Leia from time to time, whenever I've heard the rumours about her husband leaving her to run the Resistance alone after their son was killed the night the temple was destroyed. Hope Solo was known as the sole survivor when the news broke about the fire, but no statement was ever made by Leia or anyone else. Leia's said enough for me to gather Luke Skywalker's still alive, but never anything related to anyone else in her family aside from one exception.

When she recruited me she'd chided me for being reckless in engaging the First Order while I still served with the Navy, but at the same time praised it, saying I reminded her of her daughter. I'd asked if it was a compliment because her tone left much to be deciphered, only now I think I finally understand it. I'd been curious to meet her myself to see what she meant but quickly found when I arrived on base it was a hushed topic. I remember L'ulo telling me it would be good to have another mad pilot on base since the General's daughter had gone to finish university, so really I should be forgiven for not putting it together.

I look at the x-wing she was working on, which is certainly more banged up than mine despite her insulting my ship, and recognise an R2 droid going past towards a larger transport ship docked nearby. It is the R2 droid. I look around anxiously but she's nowhere to be found.

BB8 beside me beeps in question, even droids know who R2-D2 is considering that droid might just be one of the most decorated war heroes in history from the stories I've heard, certainly the most decorated droid. He's the droid version of Luke Skywalker.

"Yep, that's the one buddy," I confirm and tell him. "I think we've gotten into a real mess."

I was out here flirting with a Jedi. Do Jedi even have relationships or marry? The big scandal with Leia's parents prior to them even knowing about Vader was the fact she was the child of a Jedi and a queen. As a kid I'd always been curious, begged my Mom to tell me stories of the Jedi and she obliged as best she could considering the Empire had tried to erase them from memory, but I remember taking notice of that part of their legend.

Hope Solo however is a legend of her own. Princess, Jedi, although they seem to have left out being one of the best pilots in the galaxy. But there's other rumours that I've tried not to listen to, the same as when the news of Leia's parentage came to light. I still remember when I went home to Yavin-4 that year and my Dad shaking his head and saying it was nothing but an attack on Leia and the Rebellion. It wasn't until then I learned just how close both of my parents were with herl, and whatever faith she had in them she's passed on to me.

I can't let her down.

Which means this is not a great start.

It's then I panic remembering that everything with Darth Vader and the Jedi Temple only happened a few years ago, and I very specifically remember hearing them say that it was Leia's teenage daughter who was a victim of it. After doing some very quick math on my fingers I come to the conclusion she has to be at least eighteen since it's been about four years since then, I picked her for early twenties in the field but after looking at her properly she could be younger.

BB-8 beeps in alarm when I start cursing in panic under my breath, praying she's at least twenty.

You hardly see anyone under twenty five on base and when I came into the hanger and saw her working on her ship there wasn't much else on my mind than the fact that she was actually there and I had the chance to know her. Again, not thinking with my head, but I know it was with my heart as well as other things. Despite however it came off I'm a romantic at heart and I'd be lying if I said she hadn't been on my mind ever since I saw her. BB's certainly heard everything I've had to say about it in the days that have passed when I've let my mind wander to being able to meet her, and I'd done a pretty good job until Leia came back and well...

Ever since I was recruited the only thing that's been on my mind has working hard to prove my worth and find my place here, but I can't remember the last time I looked at someone and felt a spark like that and knew I had to know her, thinking what's the harm in asking?

Turns out there is much harm in it.

I'm interrupted from my thoughts by Hope Solo walking into the hanger, clearly not happy, and my first instinct is to hide behind a stack of crates much to BB8's confusion.

"R2?" she calls out and I stare in a state of awe as she leaps up onto the outside of the ship using what can only be the force, something I've never actually seen with my own eyes. She looks into the astromech pod and I hear her curse at finding her droid not there. "Damnit."

She'd be the same height as Leia but now I'm slightly gagged in my teasing knowing she definitely doesn't need a ladder. She ducks inside the transport ship only to come out cursing louder and far more creatively now and it's then Snap heads over to her from where he was doing maintenance on his ship.

"Hey Snap," she sighs, her attention anywhere but on him.

"Looking for something?" Snap asks and I shake my head at the realisation that he knows her, and that he sure as hell knew who I'd seen in the field. I'm surprised they know each other but remember the older veteran served with Han Solo and has been working for the Resistance since the start. He's become my wingman since I arrived but that was only a few months ago, she's been around far longer than that.

"R2's done a runner," she says throwing her hands up in frustration but Snap hardly looks phased. "You seen him?"

"Yeah he was here not long ago, looked to be doing his maintenance on your x-wing before doing something in the Shiraya," he says and I see panic cross her face. "Anyway how's Han going, thought you would have dragged him to base?"

"I wish I knew and I would if I could find him," she says and see an immediate look of regret on Snap's face but she laughs it off, a laugh I recognise a little too well. The same one I'd use whenever people would ask how my dad was when we weren't getting along. "Well if you see either of them let them know I've been looking for them."

"Will do," Snap says and asks "So how'd it go with Leia?"

"I doubt you'll be seeing me again," she answers shortly and I find myself frowning. "But thank you for the heads up about her knowing about the N-1."

"No problem," he says and has the guts to say "You do realise running away the moment you've gotten back's kind of pointless right?"

Her face falls and she's visibly offended. "Really Snap?"

"Whatever happened with Leia she's missed you, just let it calm down and see what else she's got to say," he tries to counsel and I realise they actually do know each other well, that there's a reason why Leia said that Snap would know what to say if he saw her in the field.

"Sorry, but being compared to Darth Vader isn't exactly fun," she spits out and I almost choke at that. She looks like she's about to go off but shakes her head and bites her tongue for a moment before saying "Look if you see R2 can you send him my way please."

He nods relatively unphased and asks as she goes to leave "You run into Poe yet?"

BB-8 beeps at recognition of my name and I peak around the corner of one of the crates, too curious not to listen.

"That commander you mean?" she says and I can't quite read her voice, or her face. "You could say that."

"What did you think?" Snap asks, being my wingman off the field as well. "Not so bad huh?"

She hesitates before answering "Alright, he's not so bad." I don't know her but something tells me that's a high praise from the look on Snap's face. "Hardly matters now though."

"Shame, because I know Brance is having a breakdown just thinking about having to deal with both of you."

She has a mischievous glint in her eyes, the same as I'd seen when she challenged me. "That is true."

"Be a shame to leave now huh?" he says patting her on the shoulder as he walks past and there's a contemplative look on her face as she turns back.

"Take care Snap."

He nods and heads one way while she goes the other, a now serious expression on her face as she makes her way to leave the hanger only for BB-8 to roll out and in my panic call for him in a hushed whisper but stay hidden as he bumps against her leg.

He beeps a greeting to her and her face changes as she looks down at him. "Well, hello." She bends down and asks "What's your name?" He beeps his name and she smiles despite how frustrated she was five seconds ago. It's a genuine smile, it suits her. "It's nice to meet you BB-8, my name's Hope. Have you seen R2-D2? I've been trying to find him."

Her voice is kinder than anything I've heard up until now when as she speaks to him, whatever defensiveness she's worn with me and even Snap immediately disappearing. BB-8 gives her the same answer as Snap and she sighs in disappointment before thanking him.

"Well thank you anyways BB-8." She gives his head a little rub as she stands and makes her way out of the hanger and when BB rolls back over to me he's beeping happily.

I shake my head as Snap comes over, barely hiding his amusement as he asks "Hiding behind a crate?"

I'm a little less amused. "So you know the General's daughter?"

"So you finally pieced that one together?" he asks and I press my lips together as he laughs to himself.

"You could have given me a heads up."

"Hey I told you not to mention to the General that you thought she was flirting with you," he says, finding this hilarious. "You didn't go telling her what you told me did you? Acting all like a lovesick puppy." I don't have an answer to that and he finds it suddenly a little less funny. "Shit, you did didn't you?" My silence is answer enough. "You're in trouble."

BB-8 beeps in confusion as to why. "I'm aware Snap."

"But yeah I've known her for years," he answers casually. "You picked her right when you said she's got an attitude."

"Yeah, no kidding," I find myself saying and find myself fidgeting with the feeling of an impending scolding. "Can I ask you something else?"

"Shoot."

"How mad do you think the General would be if I didn't just tell her to her face how pretty I think her daughter is, but that I'd also asked her daughter out and she caught us about to have an x-wing race?"

He looks stunned now. "You asked her out?"

"More or less," I admit, gathering she maybe didn't realise I was from how confused she looked. "Before she said yes or no she wanted to challenge me to a race and well..."

Snap's torn between looking mortified on my behalf and laughing. "Oh you are in trouble."

"This isn't funny."

"It's a little funny," he says much to my annoyance and asks "Wait so how did you end up in that situation?"

"Well I- I might have told her she was talking to the best pilot in the galaxy and she took that as a challenge."

He looks at me like I'm an idiot, but thankfully we've been friends long enough now I don't feel too worried about my reputation with him. "You told Han Solo's daughter you're a better pilot, considering she might just be a better pilot than Han Solo himself?"

Now I'm feeling even more mortified but also impressed and wondering how true that is, momentarily wishing we had enough time to go through with the race.

"Well I didn't know that then," I insist and scratch my head. "She- I wanted to impress her you know, but that kind of backfired. I've been waiting for the general to call me in for a dressing down ever since she told us to get out of the ships."

"Well I'm betting she'd be a bit preoccupied," Snap says and lowers his voice. "It wasn't pretty when Hope left."

"What do you mean?" I ask, there still being some blanks I can't fill in. "And what was she doing out there anyways. I'd heard she was at some university?"

"Yeah, that was the cover story," he says and looks around to make sure no one's in earshot. "She engaged the enemy on a mission, and I don't mean fired a few shots. I mean wiped them out."

"Wiped them out?" I repeat, struggling to reconcile the image of that with the girl I just saw talking to BB.

"With a lightsaber," he confirms. "But from what I've heard it was for a fair enough reason. Came across a stormtrooper operation trying to abduct kids."

Whatever chill I had's gone at those words, if I'd come across something like that I wouldn't exactly be able to walk away either. "So what was the problem?"

He's hesitant now. "Don't know, that much everything my rank and above heard about but there was something else, don't know what but if I know one thing it's that she's got the General's temper and Solo's tendency to take off and not look back. I've known her since she was sixteen or seventeen, she's a nice girl even if she's got some anger issues, likes droids more than most people." I notice the way Snap speaks about her, almost like she's a sister to him and BB beeps again, definitely having taken a liking her. "See, loves droids, but everyone on base knows not to get between her and the General if they're having a fight. Advising her not to take off after one is the furthest I'll go."

I nod slowly, starting to panic again and have to ask "Just out of curiosity... how old is she?"

"Twenty or so, going on twenty one I think," he answers much to my relief. It's not great, but not as bad as it could be. If she's going on twenty one that means there's still nearly ten years between us, and considering I've definitely never looked at someone that much younger before I'm not quite sure how to feel about that. I'd guessed early twenties when I saw her but I've also forgotten I'm about to be thirty, turns out her being Leia's kid isn't the only variable complicating things. "Don't worry I can assure you the General wouldn't care about that considering she's closer to my age than Han's but still, have BB-8 record that dressing down for me will you?"

"Snap," I groan and he just laughs.

"I'm surprised Hope didn't give you one herself," he admits. "Saw her punch a guy once who thought she'd be easy pickings. Never saw him again that's for sure."

Despite feeling mildly alarmed now I still can't help but feel flattered as I lower my voice "You know as bad as this situation is with her being the General's daughter and all, I think she liked me."

Maybe like is a strong word, but there was something there that I definitely can't deny. I'm familiar enough with that electric feeling of something new, but this is something else and despite my better judgement I want to see where those sparks lead.

Snap raises an eyebrow and looks me over "Then you're definitely in trouble because the two of you would be lucky to last five minutes together without ending up in a pissing contest, oh wait."

"Haha, funny," I deadpan and we're interrupted by Leia's assistant Korr, one of the few people on base who'd be Hope's age, she wears a similar expression to what Brance did.

"Commander Dameron," she begins and can't help the sigh in her voice. "General Organa has asked to see you in her office."

"Yep," I say awkwardly and Snap's laughing to himself as I ask him. "Tell me who should I be more worried about, the General or Hope?"

"Oh Hope for sure, if she likes you you're in a world of trouble," he warns and tells me "Good luck."

I bring myself there expecting a dressing down but when I enter she seems less frustrated than I'd expected, more resigned than anything else.

"General."

She looks up and the first thing I notice is that it looks like she's been crying, before I can voice my concern she asks "Can you guess why I've called you in here Poe?"

"Yes General and I apologise, it was behaviour not befitting of a commander," I begin, having had that line memorised since she stepped out of her ship. "It will not happen again."

She seems surprised, almost amused. "How long have you had that one rehearsed?"

"Long enough," I say and make very clear. "I had absolutely no idea the N-1 pilot was your daughter."

I can't quite read her face as she says "I've spent enough time around young headstrong pilots to have realistic expectations. I even married one, so little surprises me when it comes to my daughter."

"That is still not an excuse," I find myself saying but she waves me off.

"You and Hope are the two best pilots in this base, possibly in the galaxy," she says and while it's certainly flattering I prepare myself for the dressing down. "That is not flattery. You're the best because you're both foolishly rash but talented and you know it. I'm not surprised that the first time you meet properly you get into a pissing contest."

She speaks frankly and it's all I can do to not appear too relieved that she thinks it was just a pissing contest and not what it was. I'd gotten into some awkward situations when I was in the navy because I wasn't thinking with my head but none as awkward as this. "And I am not proud of it."

She definitely seems amused now. "It's good to know you have some shame since she certainly doesn't. Before you start apologising for telling me how pretty you think she is I truly don't care considering it was the intelligence you brought back that gave us her approximate location so I could send her uncle to get her."

Slightly confused but mostly relieved I ask "Luke Skywalker?"

Despite the rumours of him being missing I've always assumed Leia's known where he went considering he's her brother, and I can't recall anyone else who could have gone and gotten her.

"Lando Calrissian, he was her fathers best friend," she explains and I nod, some things starting to click as I remember meeting Calrissian years back and him wanting to introduce me to his niece who he told me was one of the youngest professional starfighter pilots in the galaxy. He couldn't find her but it's not hard to guess who that would have been. "But enough of that, you'll be no doubt relieved to know I didn't call you in to answer for whatever my daughter attempted to goad you into."

"You're not?" I can't help but say and force myself to relax when I realise the frustration I can feel from her isn't directed towards me. "Then is it about a mission?"

"I suppose so, yes," she says and goes on. "Hope has been difficult these past few years, I can't blame her for it but she is awfully defiant. Too much like me and certainly too much like her father, and yet even being her fathers daughter still I struggle to pinpoint just where this level of pure recklessness comes from. Considering your father served directly alongside Han I'm sure you've heard enough stories to get where I'm coming from."

"Oh yep," I say, having practically begged Dad to tell me his war stories and just what Han Solo was like, as a kid who wanted to take after the greats in becoming a pilot I couldn't help myself. Suddenly I find myself wondering why she didn't send Han to bring his daughter back but I see an ache in her eyes even speaking about him and realise the rumours around estrangement might be worse than what I've heard, especially if his own daughter doesn't know where he is. "Look, she might have an ego and be a little reckless in the field but she's got the skill to back it up."

Now she sighs, those not being the words she wanted to hear, but she hardly looks surprised. "And this is what I meant when I recruited you, when I told you that you reminded me of my daughter. But a little rebellion and going on some damn foolhardy crusade in the Outer Rims with smugglers and pirates for the sake of spiting a parent is another."

Her example is quite specific but not aimed towards me. I'm equally surprised and relieved to know that Leia doesn't know about the record the NRSB definitely has on me, or the fact I was personally hunted by one of their agents during my stint with the spice runners, but considering I was a minor it seems my prayers that it was scrubbed from public record were answered.

"I mean, I wasn't perfect but she gives me a run for my money that's for sure," I say and she has a quiet amusement behind her eyes I can't quite make sense of. I'm confused as to why she's telling me this, perhaps she's sharing it out of frustration and in that case I'd be flattered she trusts me enough to vent but that's not Leia's style, which means she has plans in store that include Hope and I.

"She does," Leia says. "It was one of the reasons I recruited you, because she'd left in a fit of anger after being demoted for the highest level of insubordination-"

"Mutiny?"

"Second highest," she says and leaves that up to my interpretation. I've got pieces from what Snap's told me but clearly something worse has happened that they've kept quiet. Leia had offered to have my own insubordination during the navy taken care of before she'd recruited me, so I wouldn't be surprised that she'd do the same for her kid. "She's bright but doesn't have the collective loyalty required to commit a mutiny much to her disappointment I'm sure. If she did I dare say the Resistance would be a dictatorship or worse."

I look at R2-D2 and he beeps his agreement with that, again I find myself glad I'm not her commander. Karé and Iolo have committed their fair share of insubordination against me but I ultimately I trust their judgement and give them room to improvise. Something tells me Hope Solo would be another matter altogether.

"What I was saying is that the two of you are pilots seen once in a generation, and when she left I needed someone to fill her place and now she's back." She continues, seeming apprehensive, nervous almost. "And she will not be happy about the fact there is someone here who gives her a run for her money but she'll have to get over that and so will you."

I only grow more confused. "I haven't had any issue with-"

"Not yet, but you will," she assures me. "You might have puppy eyes seeing what she can do but it won't last." Puppy eyes, was it that obvious? "She is immensely difficult which you will soon discover. She's one hell of a pilot who has made it clear to me that if I don't give her missions she'll sanction her own if she doesn't take off first."

Being Leia's daughter she has to be competent, she said she was a captain after all, so personally I don't see much of an issue but ask "And she can't because-"

"She made a habit of engaging the enemy with a lightsaber and as such she was demoted and stripped of her rank."

"Lightsaber?" I repeat, that being the key word in that sentence I take notice of and try to follow it up with a rational comment. "I would have thought a Jedi would be the first person you'd send on a mission."

"Don't get too excited, at the moment she's a rogue pilot who happens to have a lightsaber and can throw rocks, far from a Jedi," she warns and her voice saddens a little. "But it wasn't always that way. The issue is that she, much like you, doesn't do things half heartedly. She would sooner go too far and put herself in danger than fail a mission. Does that sound familiar?" I nod and she continues. "I have a mission I want the two of you to undertake together in the hopes that your respective reckless tendencies will cross the other out so you can make it out of this alive, because frankly, if I sent only one of you I don't know if you'd make it back. Which is why I've just told you everything I have, so you know what you'll be getting into if you agree to work with her."

My heart skips a beat at the thought of working with her and I try to keep my voice calm, caught off guard Leia is sending me on a mission with her instead of putting me on probation. "Well from the sound of this mission it seems less like a choice and more like common sense."

"Yes, hopefully if I put the two of you together you'll have half as much sense as a regular person," she can't help but remark and I realise she still is slightly annoyed after all at finding us about to race. "You'll need it considering you'll only complete this mission if you make it out alive and relatively unscathed while demonstrating significant caution, which isn't either of your typical styles, but you are the only two pilots with the skills and recklessness to pull this off."

I can't help but see this as a win. "I know I should probably feel insulted but I'm flattered General."

"The two of you might not have any problems after all," she says and tells me "I'll call her in for the briefing granted she won't take off without R2."

I look at the droid, definitely sensing some sort of betrayal there from the data he's uploading to the General's databank, and BB-8 takes the moment to properly introduce himself to the veteran droid, unable to hide his excitement.

In all honesty I'm struggling to hide mine as well despite Leia's warnings until Threepio comes in and says "I have sent Lieutenant Sella to get Miss Hope, would you like me to bar the door so she cannot leave when she arrives?"

Leia catches my alarm but waves her hand. "That will not be necessary Threepio, if she really wants to leave she'll find a way out regardless."

"Terrible lack of manners," Threepio chides as he goes to wait outside. "You'd think she'd been raised in the Outer Rims, but not even Master Luke lacked such courtesy. I do hope you have been keeping her out of trouble R2, but according to my network it seems you've failed to do that."

That's probably the most critical I've ever heard Threepio but R2-D2's language leaves me with raised eyebrows as he insults Threepio back and I look at Leia.

"They have a long history," she tries to explain, but gives R2 a warning look at his language which I've definitely never heard from a droid before but considering the amount of war's he's fought I can't exactly blame him. "I believe R2's also picked up on some of Hope's strategies when it comes to arguing from the sounds of it."

Finally then do I start to wonder what I may be getting myself into.

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