#and maybe he gets a little misty but he saves the tears for later when he can really think about how much he's loved and how they're both o | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

musicallisto · 3 years

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𓅆 — 𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬; (kaz brekker x reader)

~ 2021 start-of-the-year event ~

anon requested: Can i request number 111 with Kaz Brekker (six of crows) for your event ? song: twenty one pilots - jumpsuit | 𝄞

summary: You had a job to complete, a friend to save, and you were already late.

author notes: you couldn’t have picked a better song for Kaz - it would’ve been insanely tricky to land on something lovey-dovey with how emotionally unavailable he is. but Jumpsuit gave me a load of ideas, and I hope you find this to your liking! this isn’t heavy on the romantic aspect (how could it be with Kaz?), and I think it was better in my head - I’m definitely rusty from not writing -, but I hope you like it nonetheless. word count: 2.0k words (lmfaooo remember when I said these would be 1k) warnings: fighting, guns, knives, explosions, fire, mentions of torture

𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 you been thankful for the insufferable propensity of the Kerch to be loudmouths, especially those the Barrel had spat out. It was a pounding headache waiting to happen when one stumbled upon a bustling square on market day, with harangues flying to and fro, or making one’s way through the shouts of the harbor; but it proved particularly useful when tracking bandits through an unfamiliar mansion.

“Tie him up!”

“Tighter, tighter! Or he’ll try one of his tricks!”

“Not so cocky now, heh, Brekker...”

Readjusting your rifle on your shoulder, you followed the echoes of enthusiastic screams in the labyrinthic halls, steps silent on the perfectly polished floorboards. You could tell the general direction you were to head towards, but the specific layout of the merchant’s house remained unknown to you. Of course, Kaz had refused to show you the plan Wylan had drawn, to test you, perhaps, or simply to relish on the look of utter frustration you gave him, as you often did before he headed out.

“You’ll figure it out,” he had assured, more to himself than to you. “I’m sure you will.”

You always did. Especially when you had to get him out of his messes.

“You’re real quiet now, Brekker. Surely you’ve escaped worse situations.”

“What’s the matter? Black Tips got your tongue, Dirtyhands?”

Kaz, from an indefinite point downstairs, remained completely silent. And you, crossing yet another tastefully decorated corridor, cursed Kerch merchants for their ridiculously huge houses with so ridiculously few staircases.

As you made a sharp turn, breath hitched in your chest as to hear the faintest of noises coming from the Black Tips - or Kaz - downstairs, a somber, tall figure abruptly darkened your field of vision. You flinched, unbalanced for a split second.

“Hey-- Intrud--!”

You were quicker than his cry. The air whistled near your ear. Your blade, fast and true, had chased away the words in his throat. In a swift motion, you pulled the throwing knife out of the gangster’s trembling body before it fell to your feet, and flattened yourself against the cover of the wall until the deafening thunder of your heart subsided. You closed your eyes. Inhaled deeply, silently. Kaz didn’t do with weaklings, even when they were you. Or maybe it was the thought of him restrained under your feet, bare of gloves and cane and knives and tricks, and you failing to get to him on time that made you nauseous. Exhaled silently, deeply. You opened your eyes, swallowed hard, glanced at the ornate clock in front of you.

You had a job to complete, a friend to save, and you were already late.

“I’m not sure how many of them there will be. Some might patrol upstairs.”

“If you’re so sure that this is an ambush, why are you so keen on going?”

He had stared at you as though his train of thought was self-evident. He expected it to be to you at least, after all these years. And yet, after all these years, it wasn’t. Even less so to you.

“Because I need that contract, Y/N, and a handful of Black Tips will certainly not stand in my way. I don’t trust anyone else with stealing those papers.”

“And you think you can get in and out of there unnoticed when they’re going precisely for you?”

You had stared at him as though your train of thought was self-evident. Were your despicably misty eyes not enough? You were worried for the illustrious Kaz Brekker, and that was your deadliest sin.

“I never said I was going in alone. I don’t trust anyone to steal for me... but I trust you enough to shoot for me.”

Eventually, your feet led you to the grand staircase, almost on instinct, and you let out a sigh of relief. Without missing a beat, you ran past it, to the opposite end of the main hall; it wouldn’t be long before the body was noticed and the Black Tips were plunged in a state of alarm. You refused to think of what they would do to Kaz if they caught wind of one of his Dregs coming to save him. Of his most loyal Dreg.

You didn’t know well the exact layout of the house, but for all their outrageous wealth, Kerch merchants did not do well with originality. Mansions outside of Ketterdam all had the same patio right next to the stairs, easily accessible via a windowed gallery. In less than an instant, you were on the railing, overlooking the paved courtyard. The bitter air of the winter evening bit your cheeks, lips, and knuckles, but you barely felt it as you crouched behind the railing. There, two stories high and under the declining sun’s vigilant eye, you glanced over the rusty railing.

As your eyes took in the scene below, your grip on the butt of your rifle tightened.

Three thickset silhouettes, covered in black leather from head to toe, surrounded a fourth figure slumped on a chair, a paper bag shoved on its face and its wrists firmly tied behind its back. You stifled a tremor. His cane was nowhere to be seen, no doubt discarded somewhere in the shadows by a malign kick, but the shoulders, the crinkled black ascot tie barely visible under his slouched head, the impeccably clean gloves were unmistakable.

He must’ve had a plan. An umpteenth trick in mind, a fifth ace up his sleeve. Kaz Brekker bowed his head to no one.

You took a deep breath to stabilize your trembling hand and raised your rifle at eye level. From beneath, a resounding laugh, greasy like the filth floating in the air of the Barrel, rattled your chest. You forced it out of your mind, a blank slate. You were Kaz’s fifth ace.

“The boss wants you alive, but he can’t fault us for wanting to play a little with great Kaz Brekker,” the Black Tip closest to Kaz purred. A shrieking of wood and a muffled groan signaled he had forcefully grabbed the chair. “Whatever shall we do to the Barrel’s golden bastard, hm?”

On the westernmost corner of the courtyard, to your left, a fourth guard remained still, cloaked in shadow. Next to him, right behind one of the supporting pillars of the structure, a nook in the wall; your target. An impossible shot, from where you were crouched, and exactly why you would attempt it.

A little bit to your right, almost imperceptible in the dust and shadows of the courtyard, a reddish light blinked like a sparkling eye. An explosive device. Kaz’s last instruction to you.

Immediately beneath you, the three thugs closing in on Kaz; the tallest one pulling a knife from his boot and grabbing the boy’s wrists.

“What do you think the Barrel will do without its dirty hands? Will it bleed to death slowly?”

Your eye rose to the gun sight, your finger to the trigger, the barrel to the fourth hidden bandit. Under your fingertips, the rifle vibrated in unison with your steady breathing. Carefully, you missed the shot.

Chaos then bloomed like an exploding flower. An incoherent yell erupted from your missed target’s throat before he leveled his gun at the railing behind which you were cowered, then to his stunned gangmates... finally to the railing immediately in front of him, to your right, the only sensible place where the shot could’ve come from.

“Hey! There’s someone up there!”

“Get them!”

An impossible shot from an impossible angle... none you couldn’t make nonetheless.

With your eye still pressed to the scope of the gun, you watched as the goon ran through the courtyard, towards his believed attacker... and the handmade bomb on the floor, taunting you with its red glint. In the corner of your eye, Kaz flung himself to the side, away from the blast. At the same moment, your bullet detonated the explosive.

You opened your eyes and uncovered your ears a split second later to a spectacle of fury and fire. Ash and screams soared high in the night sky, clawing at your exposed hands. Biting back a cough and a few tears, you risked a glance at the courtyard below. Consumed in flames, it seemed as though it would soon swallow the charred bodies and wreckage alike. And yet, clear as day amidst the inferno, your mind was settled on one thing and one thing only; Kaz, lying on the ground and struggling against his bonds.

You leaped back inside the building and took a big gulp of fresh air. You were no Wraith; jumping directly into the courtyard would break both your legs, but you were cunning and fast all the same. You’d find the inside access to the patio, save Kaz and escape from the window you’d come in before the confusion died down. You couldn’t fail him. You couldn’t fail yourself.

You grabbed the railing of the staircase, blind and deaf to the screams outside and the pounding of your nerves. Precisely as you were about to run downstairs, distinct footsteps echoed behind you, and the hairs on your neck bristled. You whirled around an instant after grabbing your throwing knife, and readied it at your assailant... two fierce eyes, black as coal in the dim light, that surprise overtook for an instant.

“Easy, Y/N. I know you could, but maybe refrain from slitting my throat.”

Unfamiliar clothes, those usually worn by the Black Tips... gloveless hands, black with soot and grime... but this unwavering gaze fixated on you, this unmistakable confidence in the posture and slightly lifted chin, despite the limp... you lowered your knife, frowning.

“Kaz? How did you--”

The words died in your throat as you glanced at the smoke rising from the courtyard, then your friend standing unscathed in front of you, and a sudden wave, both relief and admiration, washed over you. You almost could have laughed.

“Come on,” he ordered, face composed as ever. “Let’s get Barend out of there before he roasts to death.”

“I thought...” I thought they would cut your hands off. I thought they would skin you alive. I thought I’d have to watch it all. I thought I wouldn’t get to you on time. I thought I’d lose you. “Ghezen, he’s so convincing as you. You owe him more than a beer when we get back.”

“I don’t owe anything to anyone. All he did was not disappoint me. But...”

His mouth half-open led you to believe, perhaps mistakenly, that he would say something. Outside, the noise and smoke and world breathed peacefully, as though you were shrouded in a diffuse mist.

“You’re the best shot I know, no matter what Jesper says. I didn’t doubt you for a second.”

Kaz lifted a hand, almost to graze your shoulder... and as quickly as he had appeared, he pulled back with a grimace.

“Catch,” he ordered, all trace of warmth in his tone now gone. “Maybe someone should tell these merchants that chimneys are not the most original place to stash their valuables.”

You caught the purse he threw at you without a word, still short of breath. From the fire, from the relief, from the split second of ravishing tenderness you saw in his eyes, or maybe from all those at once. The leather pouch, heavy in your palm, shimmered with golden hues; yet when you looked up and held Kaz’s gaze for a fraction of a second, you knew you would have traded all the coins and jewels in your hand for his instead, with soot and grime and glove.

“Let’s go.”

The oily lamps in the corridor cast two shadows against the walls, standing shoulder to shoulder, breathing in synchronization. Then a tongue of fire danced against the window, covering the two silhouettes. When it washed away, and only moonlight remained, the monster of the Barrel and his fifth ace were long gone.

#mywriting #grishaverse #six of crows #kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker one-shot

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lexacoolfox · 3 years

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How danganronpa characters act with kittens with their S/O.

Kazuichu Souda

I think he would like hanging out with kittens

I just think you would have to remind him to tone done his volume and excitement

You also have to tell him to be gentle with them

“Their so cute! I thought cats were just jerks. Looks like I was wrong!”

“Why did you think cats are jerks?”

“Well I see people talk or post about how cats are, kinda entitled or mean.”

“Hehehe well that can be true. Cats can be like that. It might be because of the breed or the way their raised. I should know I have had plenty of cats.”

“Ooh! Babe! How about we get a cat!”

“I don’t know you know their a big responsibility.”

“Please babe!”

“Fine I guess.”

“Aw thank you babe!”

“Which one should we get?”

“How about this one!”

“Yeah! What should his name be?”

“How about Garfield?”

“Basic.”

“Ok ok. Stripes?”

“Nah.”

“Ok.…Ginger!”

“I kinda like that name!”

“Ok, Ginger! Your coming home with us!”

You to leave the pet store with cat food, cat bed, a small scratching post, some toys, water and food bowl, litter box, and a collar that says ginger.

You guys absolutely adore the cat. He actually very well train, he uses the litter box, the scratching post, never scratches furniture.

When you get home from your part time job you find Kazuichu playing with the kitten or him petting it while it takes a nap on him.

Your friends were surprised that the two of you got a cat. Most of them thought Kazuichu was more of a dog person. He claims that he likes cat and dogs. But for now he had just a cat.

“Hey babe, thanks for letting me get ginger.”

“No thank you for convincing me to get ginger.”

“Hehehe, I love this little guy!”

“I just hope he doesn’t steal you away from me.”

“Of course not! I have enough love for both of you.”

“Good to know.”

Makoto Naegi

You guys decided to visit a friend who’s cat just had kittens. You guys just went to look at them but makoto got a little to attached to all the kittens.

“S/O do we have to go so soon!”

“Naegi we can’t stay here forever.”

“But their all so cute!”

“Naegi…”

“Oh come on! Just a little longer. Pleeeaassee!”

“Ok a little longer.”

25 minutes later...

“Naegi, my friend is saying we have to leave.”

“Nnnoooo!!!”

“Come on cutie let’s start getting ready to leave.”

“S/O how about we adopt them.”

The cat in question had 3 kittens.

“Naegi I don’t think that’s a good idea. If you didn’t know cats can be quiet a challenge to take care of. Not mentioning 3”

Your friend came in and said you can take them, but she just had to mention whatever kittens we didn’t take she would put in an animal shelter.

You mentally screamed in your head

“S/O! We can’t let them go there! These sweet babies wouldn’t survive!”

“Naegi-“

He had a cute sad puppy dog face. It looks like you have three kittens now

So when you guys got home you put some tuna on a plate and used a bowl nobody used for water. And used a blanket for them to bundle up in

“Ok naegi. How about you name the black and white one, I name the orange and grey one, and both think of a name for the gray one.”

He nodded his head in agreement

He named the black and white one ace

You named the grey and orange one mochi

And the gray one you both agreed on the name faith

Funny enough, you actually spent most the time with the cats.

Naegi would sometime joke and say

“I think you love those cats more than me.”

But then he would also lay down and play with them.

Faith was a very friendly cat, she got along with your friends fine, she loved affection, she often slept with you guys

Mochi was kinda territorial, she would growl at your friends at first, maybe fiercely scratch them or loudly meow at them, she was also a little adventurous, one time you guys couldn’t find her until you heard a meow from the window and saw she had a mouse in her mouth, still alive mind you. You quickly took it out her mouth and let it outside.

Ace was a very lazy cat, he only really got up if you had food or he wanted to lay in the sun, he would let you pet him. He would also lay in your lap if your not doing anything and would pet him.

You guys loved your cats and don’t regret your decision getting all three

Hajime Hinata

Hajime was a bit skeptical when you brought a kitten home and said “come on honey, let’s just take care of it for at least a week or two. You might like it.”

While your at your job he just took care of it, feed it, gave it water. That’s it.

For the first like three days

After a while the kitten would jump on Hajime’s lap and just curl up and sleep. He found it so cute.

He would also start petting it

Using a laser pointer and playing with it

He would softly laugh when playing with it.

You were starting to think Hajime didn’t like the cat. Cause you never saw him do anything with it when you got home.

You came home on the last day to take it back cause you thought Hajime didn’t like it. But you couldn’t find him or the kitten

To your surprises you found Hajime sitting on the bed and playing with it. With one of those dangling cat toys.

“So you do like the kitten?”

He turned to you surprised and then his face went a little red with embarrassment. He slowly nodded.

“So do you want to keep her? If not I can take her back.”

“No I really like her! She cute and fun!”

“Ok let’s decide if a name for her!”

“Hhhmm how about muffin?”

“I do like it. But what about other names?”

“Kitten, missy, misty, mocha, Roxie, muffin-“

You about to tell Hajime he already said muffin before the cat meowed and looked at both of you

“…Muffin.”

The cat crawled towards Hajime after he said muffin.

“I guess our cat name is muffin.”

After playing with muffin for a while, you both got ready to sleep and mitten sat in between both of your faces

Who knew Hajime would like cats

Kokichi oma

Kokichi was just walking around minding his own business when he saw a kitten, covered in dirt, crying and very skinny. Now Kokichi can be a jerk but he isn’t heartless. He picked up the kitten and ran straight home. He got some soap (the kind that is safe for animals.) and turned on the sink and washed it, not to hard to hurt but enough to get the dirt off. Then he got a towel and put him on the floor. Then got a plate put some tuna on it and then got then a bowl of water. He let it do it’s own thing but after it was done the kitten rub against Kokichi leg. Throughout the day the kitten would follow him wherever he went around the house.

“Kichi, babe I’m home.”

“Hey S/O look what I found in the in the alley!”

He came in and showed you pure white cat.

“Can we keep him please!”

“Kichi, I don’t know.”

He started shedding some tears. Of course they were crocodile tears. But the fact that he acted sad, must mean he really wants it.

“Ok kichi we can keep him-“

“YAAAY!”

“But we have to take it to the vet to get him nurtured, and make sure it gets all his shots”

Kokichi agreed to you term and the next day you guys go get him nurtured and make sure to get his shots. Well you did. He went to go buy some toys, cat food, a bed, etc. after you guys were done you brought him home and started thinking of a name for the pure white cat

“How about snowball?”

“No that’s too generic.”

“Casper?”

“No, he’s not dead.”

“Alaska?”

“If it was girl maybe.”

“Glacier?”

“No.”

“How about blanco?”

“What’s that even mean?”

“It means white in Spanish.”

“Blanco…blanco…blanco”

“I think I like it!”

“Alright blanco it is.”

Kokichi loved the cat. He always feed it, gave it water, and he loved to play with it.

Funny thing about blanco he was quite the mischievous cat. He loved to push things off shelves and scratch up furniture. But he was so cute

Sometimes Kokichi takes him to DICE meetings. he has him in his laps. While talking about whatever plans he pets him like a super villain

You and Kokichi also loves it when he cuddles up with both you when you prepare to go to bed

Kokichi sometimes walks around and on his shoulders is blanco.

As we all know mui and Kokichi. Hate each other. So anytime he walking around with blanco with his shoulder and mui insults him or something. Blanco will jump off his shoulders and attack mui until she runs away. Which Kokichi praises him for(even though you tell him multiples times it’s not ok for blanco to do that).

I saved the best fact for last. Kokichi had somebody make a mini scarf like the one he has. Which when you saw, it felt like you heart almost exploded.

You both love blanco so much!

Nagito Komeada

You were leaving for a trip in two months, and Nagito wasn’t too happy about that. He didn’t voice the fact that he was really gonna miss you. But you knew anyway. He was always kinda lonely when you go away. Sure he has…friends…or whatever he has with his classmates.

So you decided to get him a pet, you thought a dog might be to much. So why not a kitten.

A black kitten with yellow eyes caught your eye. You thought how funny it would be to get her since black cats are bad luck. You also wanted to get her cause the owner said that kitten would go to a different shelter soon.

You poked a holes in a box and put her in with a bow on top

“Nagi!”

“My hope! What’s that in your hand?”

“It’s a gift! For you my love!”

“Oh! My hope! Getting trash like me a gift. Your too good for me!”

“Nagi, my love, your not trash. Come on open it!”

He opened it and the kitten jumped right out onto his chest. He was quite surprised

“My hope! You got me a kitten!”

“Yeah! I know how lonely you get when I go away. So I got you this kitten! Do you like her?”

He picked her up and looked at her. He titled his head sideways and the cat copied him. Then he smiled and hugged the cat.

“I love her!!”

You squealed cause it was so cute.

“What do you want to name her?”

“Mmhhh…Lucky! I want to name her lucky!”

“Hehehe I’m not to surprised.”

Nagito was really happy. He wasn’t too sad when you had to leave.

Him and lucky were always together. He loves that kitten like his own child. He always let her sleep with him, eats with her and sometimes walks around with her.

His classmates notice the kitten and they asked question about it. He told them how you got him this kitten.

Lucky was a very interesting cat, he seemed to bring Nagito such good luck, but others not so much.

Like for example, fuyuhiko said something not to nice to Nagito, lucky was just there sitting on Nagito’s shoulders. When fuyuhiko walked away he tripped on some stairs. It was a lot of steps but it he was still kinda hurt. A couple of bruises and scraps.

He sometimes likes to pick up lucky and boop their noses together.

Ibuki took a picture of the moment and sent it to you. That picture become your new phone background.

He like to call lucky his good luck charm.

When you get back from your trip he at the airport with lucky on his shoulders.

“It’s seems you two got close.”

“Yeah! My hope! Lucky is the best gift I’ve ever gotten! Thank you so much!”

“Gotten any bad luck lately?”

“Nope quite the opposite!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! She’s my good luck charm!”

“I’m glad you that she brings you that much happiness.”

“Yup! now that your back and with lucky here. I feel on top of the world!”

“Heheh I love you nagi!”

“I love you more.”

*meow*

“We love you too lucky!”

You all got in the car and snuggled up together. Lying your head on Nagito’s shoulders and putting his head on top of yours. With lucky on top of your laps. How cute!

#anime #writing #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa 2 #trigger happy havoc #hajime hinata #nagito komaeda #makoto naegi #Kazuichu souda #kokichi ouma #kittens #x reader #S/O x danganronpa characters

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jenomark · 3 years

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Part 6: WinWin, The Catch

➔Pairing: WinWin x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Lucas, Ten, Hendery, Xiaojun, Kun, & YangYang ➔Genre: Smut (+ angst, + fluff, + plot) ➔Warnings: angst, mentions of sex, yelling, cursing ➔Word count: 6,455

➔Summary: You don’t know what you do. You don’t even know who you are. Some would call you a whore. Some would refer to you as a sex worker. All of your clients would say you’re damn good at your job.

MASTERLIST

FOUR MONTHS LATER

Life is a whirlwind of many things: emotions, disappointment, new beginnings, and things too complicated to understand. It’s years of fuck-ups, of getting lost in the shit that hurts you, and finding out that sometimes the truth should stay buried. We’re meant to live life like it’s the last one we have, but a lot of us can’t even choose what to eat for dinner. Maybe that’s the joy in living, in just being. Maybe we should all be proud of being fuck-ups, instead of trying to be something we’re not.

“I don’t think life can get any sweeter than this.” WinWin said.

You tapped your glass against his, the frozen, pineapple liquid spilling down the sides. The taste of the drink is refreshing and so sweet it makes your teeth hurt, but you don’t care. You’re sitting on the beach in a plastic chair, the sun dipping into the ocean, and the company of a man you enjoy right next to you. Life, through its ups and downs, was finally looking up.

“I don’t want to go home.” you said. “Do you think people at work even miss me?”

WinWin laughed quietly, just a little wind through his nose. “I would miss you.”

“I bet you would.”

Since coming to the island for the past week, you and WinWin left the hotel room many times. You went snorkeling, exploring different parts of the culture, ate gourmet dinners, and got massages by professionals who avoided your sunburnt shoulders. On the days when you couldn’t seem to make it out of the door, you both fucked on the beautiful white linen bed, sometimes with the sliding door open, and every time without any inhibition.

“I miss you every day.” he said. He leaned over to kiss you, the taste of the drink on the edge of his lips.

When he brought out his phone to text his family back home, you let your eyes gape openly at his body. He was so pretty on the eyes, every muscle put to good use. You didn’t regret the order of the way things happened to fall together, just that you hadn’t met him sooner. It seemed lifetimes ago that you were hitting him up for one last bang of the century. You smiled at the memory, letting it salivate in your mind until he was done texting.

“Is everything okay?” you asked.

WinWin took your hand, which was something he did whenever he was feeling affectionate. You liked the attention, the way he put his phone down and focused on answering your question. “My family are asking what time our flight home is tomorrow. And if I’ll stop by on the way back to my house.”

“Did you tell them yes?” you asked. “I miss your mother. She’s just the face I feel I need to see.”

“You don’t know how happy that makes me feel.”

He leaned over and kissed you again. There was a cheeky look in his eyes, as if asking how easy it would be for you to straddle him on the beach chair and take his cock right there. Neither of you were sex fiends during your regular life back home, but vacation time meant making time for your relationship.

Luckily for the public, you were both interrupted by the waiter asking if you’d like a bite to eat. After declining, you both gathered up your things and practically ran back to the hotel for a night of fun and pleasure.

It wasn’t love, exactly. You would be the first to admit that love was hardly a driving force in your life. At first, though lust was an option, you ruled it out fairly early. Your entrance into WinWin’s life was less about pleasing someone sexually and more about pleasing yourself. You stayed around him because he was different. Deep down, you hoped it wasn’t because he was a culmination of all the boys in your life- Ten and his safety, Hendery and his optimism, Xiaojun and his hunger for life, Kun and his stability, and YangYang’s wholesome friendship. He even had Lucas’ taste for laughter and fun.

For a while, you wanted it to be love. You wanted love at first sight to be a real thing so badly. You saw WinWin, you knew he was the one, and you fucked him real good. You chose to let it be more. Still, months later, you chose to keep the relationship because there was always the possibility that you were both lovable. You could be normal, even get the 9-to-5 job and stop fucking people for money. It could happen for you.

The car ride home from the airport felt a little off. Being away from the ocean made you feel stale. You didn’t know how to face normalcy again, how to ease your way back into a city that held so many awful memories. But WinWin held onto you like he could solve everything, made you feel like you could be the adult you needed all your life.

“We’re here.” WinWin said as the car pulled up to his mother’s house.

She didn’t know her son paid for someone like you, or that he was the last one ever. As far as she knows, he met you out with friends, and the rest was history. She didn’t know about your past, didn’t seem interested in it either. She was the kind of woman that judged no one, that welcomed everyone through her door with a hug and a feast fit for kings. It was far removed from the family you had grown up with.

“You both look sun-kissed and beautiful.” she said, hugging you, and then tugging on the edge of WinWin’s ear. “ Welcome home. I made you a nice home cooked meal. I know it’s not as good as the 5 star food you’ve been eating for the past week.”

“Mom, I’m sure it’s delicious.” WinWin said. “And I am starving.”

“Me too.” you said. “It’s really nice for you to cook for us. I feel so thankful.”

Being with WinWin’s family made you feel safer than you’d ever felt. They truly welcomed you into the fold. It was easy to imagine the rest of your life like this: taking vacations, coming back to meals cooked by a mother who cares, and being lovingly accepted into another family like you were one of their own. Your past could easily melt away, along with any of the bad taste that got stuck in your mouth.

You felt yourself getting misty-eyed. Thankfully, WinWin’s mother didn’t notice. She walked away to tend to her meal, leaving both of you in her living room. Unfortunately for you, WinWin was also an attentive boyfriend. He noticed you were on the verge of tears right away. He wiped them away for you, his brown eyes looking concerned.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, it’s fine. I think I’m just tired and overwhelmed.”

“Do you want to go home?”

“No, no.” you said quickly. “I’m happy to be here.”

The smile WinWin gave you lit up your soul. He brought you in for a hug, his excitement growing in the childish way he had. You held him tightly, too afraid to let go.

No, it wasn’t love, but it wasn’t not love, either.

That night, you made love.

In the beginning of your relationship, all the men before him would pop into your mind. There was the roughness of Lucas, the tenderness of Ten, and the intensity of Hendery. Every so often, you wished WinWin was as good as Xiaojun was at oral. You incorporated the carefree attitude YangYang taught you into your sex life, taking WinWin for a wild spin. You avoided Kun, and every feeling he brought up within you. Every so often, you would dive back into the deep end and meet WinWin, and you would merge all the men together. He would never know, and you’d never ask if he had any inclination.

Something changed a few months in. The sex got better, and you were more present. You were with him for the whole time, pressing down on his chest and riding the high that belonged to only him. You fell hard. You two were good for each other, matched up right in all the best ways. He didn’t need help in any department. He was whole and complete, and he made you feel like a goddess.

“You’re thinking.” WinWin whispered, kissing your forehead.

He pushed his cock deep inside of you, the words out of your mouth coming out breathless. “I’m not.”

“Okay.” he said, giving up before he started.

He fucked you so well that you both forgot about everything. It was only until you were dreaming that everything came rushing back. You dreamed of the men, of the paradise lost, of WinWin’s mother wishing you were her daughter-in-law.

Office jobs on a Monday never once seemed glamorous, but it was all you needed to feel ordinary. You stayed at your desk and watched the screensaver on your desktop fade in and out, like a heartbeat. Cheek resting against the palm of your hand, you sighed. You waited for lunchtime like the rest of the office girls. You didn’t gossip, didn’t show anyone your new nails. Your desk wasn’t decorated, but you were settled in for a while. The company liked you so much that you moved on from being a temp really quickly, which either made people love you or hate you.

“How was vacation?” a colleague asked.

You had become one of those people that shows vacation photos on her phone. There was WinWin laying on the beach, his toned stomach covered in sand. There was a photo of you posing by the sign of a restaurant, your arms thrown around him and your leg popped up. You hardly recognized the girl in the photos, though you’d spent 20+ years in her body.

“I wish I were in your shoes.” she said. “Your boyfriend is dreamy.”

“Thank you.” you said. It was hard to keep the amusement out of your voice. You were used to women fawning over him because he was so handsome, but when it was a married women with five kids, it made you hope you’d never be like that.

“It looked like such a nice little vacay.” she said. “So luxurious. How did you pay for all of that?”

“Savings.” you said.

Though you weren’t doing sex work anymore, the money from your secret apartment felt like it was never ending. You had sold so many things that reminded you of the men you saw over the years, choosing the money and a better life for yourself. It didn’t bother WinWin that you had more money than him, though he wouldn’t let you buy him a damn thing.

“Lucky.” she said before moving back to her desk.

Your eyelids were heavy, and the bottom of your feet sore. You dragged your feet through the doorway of your new, modest apartment, and threw your stuff down on the floor. You didn’t check your phone, just sat down on the couch and let your head fall back. You drifted off to sleep and only woke up to a knock on your front door. Picking yourself up, you walked over, swung it open, and screamed when WinWin picked you up and spun you around.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

He kissed you passionately, letting your body slide down his before he let your feet plant on the floor. You felt breathless, and could tell that your face was hot just from seeing him again. There were days you kind of wanted to share a home with him, to see him every single day. Maybe then you wouldn’t be so taken aback by him every time you saw him in the flesh.

You didn’t fully get a good look at him until he moved away from you and went over to the fridge for a drink. He was wearing a dark blue suit and his hair was slicked back from his forehead. He looked expensive, and the smell trailing behind him reminded you of the vacation you’d just left.

“What are you all dressed up for?” you asked.

“You and I are invited to a party.”

“A..party?” you asked. “On a Monday night? I’m exhausted. I just had my full day of work after a week of beauty and sunshine. Baby, the last thing I want to do is party.”

Then, as if everything suddenly made sense, you remembered that your birthday was in a few days. Your mind was whirring. You didn’t want WinWin wasting money on some nice party when he’d put up more than his share for the vacation.

“Please.” he said, pouting. He took a drink from inside the fridge and set it on the counter. “I wouldn’t go without you.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I’ve seen your closet. You have plenty of dresses.”

“I won’t know anyone there.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t tell you who was going.”

“I’m running out of excuses, aren’t I?” you asked.

WinWin smiled and came over to hold you. “Yes. I’m not a party animal either, but for some reason, I really want to go to this one. It’s at that nice hotel downtown that was just built. Imagine a night full of cocktails and dancing, coming home and collapsing in my bed. Fun, right?”

You closed your eyes. When you opened them, you said yes. After all, you didn’t want to ruin a possible surprise. WinWin picked you up and spun you again. ‘Round and ‘round in circles you went.

The dress you wore was too tight. You felt so bloated in it that, on the car ride over, you kept fidgeting. WinWin calling you beautiful didn’t help, but the sulking definitely did. Arriving at the party made you so nervous that you forgot about the ill-fitting dress. You weren’t ready to be in front of people you loved, if it was a birthday party. You were stressed about who would attend, and who would not.

“Holy fuck.” you said, looking up at the hotel it was being hosted at.

In another life, it felt like you had been there before. It was much too swanky for your new taste, but there was something so familiar about the exterior that you couldn’t help but stare at it. The cream of the building and the black marble accents were stunning to look at, even more so than your date.

“We’ll stay no longer than two hours.” he said. “Does that sound good?”

You were unsure, but you did agree. He took your hand and led you across the street, the red satin dress you were wearing flying up with the wind. You smoothed your hair down with your free hand and walked through the revolving door with him. Inside, the building was even more gorgeous. It must have cost a pretty penny, and would have taken years to import all of the textures.

“Who invited you here?” you asked. “Someone from work?”

“My cousin.” he said. “ You’ve met him before.”

You were whisked into a ballroom full of people. It was clear that, by the lack of people you knew, it was not a surprise birthday party for you. It made you a little sad, but you tried not to show it.

Being among crowds was never fun for you, but feeling his hand on the small of your back relaxed you. You were thinking you could enjoy the night anyway, but WinWin walking away to fetch drinks made the fear creep up your spine again. You sat down at an empty table and scanned the hoards of people dressed in expensive designer clothes, your eyes raking it all in. You assessed that the reason you were so uncomfortable is because the environment reminded you too much of the life you had four months ago.

“Here.” WinWin said, setting your drink down.

You took a big gulp and set it back down, watching strangely as the condensation from the glass formed a ring on the tablecloth. For a bit, WinWin sat with you and held your hand, his eyes watching people laughing and chatting along.

“I can’t find my cousin. He’s not answering his phone.” he said, not able to peel his eyes from the crowd.

“Should we go look for him?” you asked.

There was a weird tension in the pit of your belly. You pushed the drink away and vowed to not drink anymore. You joined WinWin in looking for his cousin, even though you didn’t know which one he was referring to. His family was big, and they all looked so different from each other, but they all had the same cute laugh and love of ordering things online.

“Let’s dance.” WinWin said, rising to his feet.

You looked at the hand stretched out before you. He was speaking and moving too quickly. You felt like you were being pulled in every direction. The lights of the ballroom chandeliers were too bright, the air too humid. Still, you took his hand and let him bring you to your feet.The heels were killing you, but they were the only shoe that matched the dress.

“Are you okay?” you asked. “You’re acting really weird. “

“Weird?” he asked. “How?”

“I don’t know.”

You wiped sweat from your forehead and felt nauseous as he led you both around the floor. It was the first time you wished you were anywhere but with him. Being at home and sleeping sounded much more exciting than the truth of where you were.

“Can I spin you?” he asked.

Before you could tell him that he couldn't, WinWin spun you around. You held onto his shoulders and caught your breath. He spun you one more time, your body losing slight control, and then he let you go.

All you could see were the lights in a blur before they stopped. You were too aware of the arm that had caught you. You looked down at the floor, at your feet crammed into your heels, then you closed your eyes tightly, and opened them again. You looked up and was met with a chest that didn’t belong to WinWin. Clutching the arms tightly, you used the body to bring yourself up all the way.

“Lucas.” you said, your voice shaky.

Dressed in a white button down and a light blue suit jacket, Lucas was there. His face was a little slimmer, but the same eyes were looking back at you. They were wide and hard, not a lick of concern in them. For a moment, you were transported back in time. It was where you were supposed to be, with the man you thought you were going to marry. You blinked and started looking for WinWin.

“You like him?” Lucas asked.

You removed your hands from Lucas’ arms and he dropped them to his sides the same time you did. You looked into his eyes and tried to muster something to say. The last time you saw him, you couldn’t get the right words out. Your storyline was very much unfinished.

“Does he check all the boxes?” Lucas asked. “Safe. Able to pay. Puts up with your lies and insecurities.”

“What?”

You looked over at the right time to see WinWin moving up to your side. You felt relief. You waited for him to berate Lucas for talking to you that way, a hero to save the day. Instead, he held out his hand to Lucas, as if asking him to dance.

“Four months.” WinWin said to him. “I want extra for having to sleep with her so many times.”

Lucas opened his jacket and took out a wad of bills. He peeled out so many pieces of paper that you lost count of them all. “Here is half. You get the rest of the money in a while.”

WinWin took the bills without counting them and tucked them into his own jacket. He gave you the tiniest apologetic glance before walking away. Confused, you started to walk after him but was stopped by Lucas' big arm.

“What are you doing?” you asked. “I’m following my boyfriend. Let me go.”

“Your boyfriend?” Lucas asked. “Wow, you really bought it. The con artist gets conned.”

Your brain was trying its hardest to make sense of what Lucas was saying. Any minute now, you would wake up from your nap on the couch and you wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a hotel ballroom with your ex-boyfriend. When that didn’t happen, you stormed off across the dance floor, your eyes searching for WinWin. You took out your phone and began texting, but a big paw of a hand snatched the phone from you.

“He won’t text back.” Lucas said.

“Give me that.” you said, swiping at him. “Why are you here? Did you follow us?”

Lucas laughed. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what? You’re a psycho.” you said. “You broke up with me, remember? You left me. Let me live my life. I’m happy.”

Without your phone, you walked outside, through the revolving door and down the rabbit hole. You could hear Lucas’ heavy footsteps behind you. When you were out of earshot, he placed his hand on your shoulder gently and spun you around to face him.

“Give me my phone, or I will call the police.” you said, not enough bravado in your voice.

Lucas handed you the phone, but you yanked it from his hands anyway. There were no messages from WinWin, and nothing of note. You looked for the car you arrived in but it was gone. You swallowed the lump in your dry throat and closed your eyes again.

“Why did you hand him money, and where did he go? What was he talking about?” you asked. It was the question you’d wanted to ask all along but was too afraid to ask. “Please, nothing snarky. Tell me the truth.”

“The truth? Like you told me the truth?” Lucas asked.

“Lucas, please.”

“I don’t owe you anything.”

You were facing him head on, tears rolling down your face. Everything felt too chaotic, too blinding. Your thoughts were swimming in your mind, each one making no sense from the last. If what you believed to be true was true, you needed to know how it all went down.

“I set you up.” he said. “Sicheng, that’s his real name, was never interested in you. I paid him to like you, to fuck you. “

“He was my client.”

“Wrong.” Lucas said. He moved out of the way so that people could pass by. “I paid him to pursue you. It wasn’t easy, I’ll give you that. I had actually given up hope, but then you came right in at the end.”

“You’re lying to me.”

“I’m not.” Lucas chuckled darkly. “I paid him thousands of dollars. I paid for your vacation. I’m thousands in debt, but hey, who cares. I finally did it.”

“Did what?” you asked, wiping a hot tear from your cheek.

“Humiliated you the way you humiliated me.” he said. “Fucking guys for money behind my back? Why couldn’t you just cheat like normal people? Fuck, I wanted to marry you.”

It was quiet, the traffic from the sidewalk dying down. You leaned against the side of the building and felt how truly tired your body was. The fire in Lucas’ eyes calmed down a little bit, too.

“I know.” you said quietly. “I saw the ring.”

“Shit, you really fell for everything.” he said. “I planted that ring. I thought that if you believed I was going to propose, you would catch yourself in the lie. I thought you were smarter than me, but tonight proves that theory. You’re not smart at all. You should have seen your face when you saw the house key. ”

“Why would you do this to me?” you screamed, grabbing the attention of someone waiting in traffic.

“You did this to yourself, sweetheart.”

You turned around and put your arm against the wall, leaning your head down against it. “I don’t understand. WinWin and I are a real couple. I’ve been with his family and his friends. I love him.”

“The family thing wasn’t my idea.” he said. “I had nothing to do with that, but I find it funnier this way. How does it feel being so blind-sided that it’s ruined your life?”

“Fuck you.”

“No.” he said. “Fuck you. Exactly, how many people have you slept with? Did you get tested before you fucked me?”

You walked away, walking down the street to God knows where. You groaned when he kept following you, and you stopped in front of a well-lit display window. In the light, you could see how beat your reflection was. The dress was pretty, but your insides were shining out and they were ugly.

“You thought you could fool me.” Lucas said. “I followed you to some places, you know? Saw all the freaks you were with. That one guy? Hendery? I talked to him, acted like I was a stranger. He was so fucking in love with you that I was jealous. Can you believe that? I was jealous of someone who had you about as much as I did. It’s a real shame what you did to him.”

“Shut up.”

“He thought you would be together forever.” Lucas mocked.

“You don’t know a thing about Hendery.”

“Wrong again.” he said. “I know a lot about men like Hendery. The sad, rejected men that tried to love you. I was one of them.”

You checked your phone again, your last attempt at hope. All you wanted was to see WinWin’s name pop up, to text you that he was bringing the car around, and that he was going to take you away from the crazy man before you.

“If you knew....” you began, feeling dejected. “...why did you let it go on for so long?”

Lucas seemed to really think about the answer. In the light, he looked so handsome and young. You were reminded of the man he was when you first met him. You felt a little pang in your chest where your heart used to be.

“I guess I wanted to see if you would change, if you would love me.”

“I did love you.”

There was hurt and anger in Lucas’ eyes. “Loved me enough to cheat on me?”

“It was just a job.”

“Was I just a job, too?” he asked. “ I knew about the extra apartment. I really meant nothing to you.”

“This conversation is going nowhere.” you said. “I’m sorry I did that to you. I should have been upfront about who I was and what I was doing with my body. I fucked up, and I fucked your life up. And you, in return, fucked me up for the rest of my life.”

“This isn’t my fault. This is your fault.”

“I don’t care whose fault it is, Lucas.” you said. “You and I were done. We never would have lasted.”

“So, you strung me along to make yourself feel better?” he asked.

“No I-”

“-Like you did with Sicheng.” he said. “I’m not an idiot. I know the ins and outs of everything that happened in the last few months. It’s a cycle. The people you fuck keep you feeling better about yourself long enough for you to move on to a new one. I was just the unfortunate asshole getting caught in the middle.”

“I’m not talking about this right now.”

“And there it is, the denial.” he said. “Look at how you turn away from me when I tell you the truth. All those men and not one of them could ever call you out on your bullshit? Where is the love there, huh? Where are any of them now?”

You threw your hands up into the air. “I don’t know. They’re not here, Lucas. You hate me so much, but you’re the only one here. The last man standing. Congratulations, you did it.”

A car pulled up to the curb. You texted a friend for a ride, someone you didn’t know quite well. You didn’t have anyone else. While Lucas was talking, you were figuring out how best to run away from him. The knowledge hit you hardest where it hurts. You didn’t think anything could ever be the same again.

“I have to go.” you said. “I can’t be here anymore.”

“Yeah? Just like that?”

You held the car door open. “Yeah. Just like that, Lucas.”

“And you don’t have anything else to say?” he asked.

“I do, actually.” you said. “To those I’ve fucked and fucked over, I’m sorry.”

THREE YEARS LATER- LUCAS

He stood very still, so still that he could hear the tiny giggling coming from the other room. Lucas smiled to himself and tried to ignore it as best he could. If there was one thing he was good at, it was acting.

“Ready or not, here I come!” he yelled, his voice booming. He loved pulling silly voices. It was something that brought him so much joy. “You better not come out until I find you-u-u-u-u-u.”

With the heaviest of footsteps, Lucas walked across his house. It was dramatic the way he walked, and it only brought out another tinkle of laughter from the east side of the house. Lucas walked into another room and made fake footsteps like he was walking away.

There, in the corner, the top of a tiny head peeked out from behind a toy box. As if sensing him, the head poked back down. Lucas fought the urge to laugh. He played dumb and moved around the room, loudly checking behind places no human could hide behind.

“It’s very difficult to find her.” he said. “I wonder if she is in this room.”

Another giggle, another pull at his heart strings. Before he could move over to the toybox, a little girl ran out from behind it and into his arms.

“Daddy! Daddy!” she yelled, giggling as her father Lucas scooped her up into his arms. “You found me!”

Lucas swung her around and planted kisses all over her heart-shaped face. His happiness was always with her, even when it was hidden. Lucas set his daughter down and knelt down to her level.

“Now,” he said, his face serious. He tried not to laugh as his daughter put on a serious face, too. “Now, we have to find mommy.”

With her hand in his, they walked through the house to look for the missing puzzle piece of their family.

THREE YEARS LATER- TEN

“What is love to you?”

Ten sat across from his date. There was something in the question that made him cock his head to the side. His smile lit up when the person sitting across from him broke out into a similar smile, a clear embarrassment striking them unannounced.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” Ten said. “It’s a fair question. Do you have an answer for it?”

“I don’t.”

“Well, I do.” Ten said.

It was Ten’s assertiveness that got him the date in the first place. That, and the way he was so open about everything. He didn’t know if the person across from him was his soulmate, or if he even believed in that. Still, it was fun getting to know someone. In a way, it was like getting to know yourself.

“I think love is everything.” he said. “I think it’s in everything. It’s in the company you keep, in the weather you wish was different. Love is a painful reminder that not everything can stay the same. It’s the gentle way someone wishes you a good day. It’s an old blanket that smells like memories from long ago. Love is scary, but scary things are fun, too. We all want love, and we all want to be loved. It’s hope, and it’s full. I used to think love is never being left, but now I think leaving someone often means loving them so much that you do what is best for them. Love is...yeah..I love love.”

THREE YEARS LATER- XIAOJUN

He lit the candles, one on each end of the table. Getting lost in the flame was an option, but Xiaojun had many steps to take. He smoothed out the table cloth, the fine linen unwrinkling before his eyes. There was peace in watching everything come together, in the controlling things.

“Perfect.” he whispered.

Moving around the table, he fixed two of everything, even two napkins of the prettiest shade. The dishes resting on the table were cleaned so properly that not even a stray hair found its way there. The drinking glasses were sparkling. He could see his reflection in them both, his handsome face full of content.

“Whaaa, so perfect.”

Xiaojun took a seat in one of the chairs. He felt the wood of the armrest, a seat fit for a king, and he smiled to himself. The dinner jacket he was wearing was a little oversized, but it was pressed in a way that made him feel happy.

A man walked into the room and served food on both sides of the table, the tastiest feast money could buy. A bottle of wine was tipped into the glasses, not a drop wasted.

“Thank you.” Xiaojun said softly.

After the waiter disappeared, he looked at the empty chair on the other side of the table. The steam from the food rose up high, and with it, Xiaojun’s expectations. He took one savory bite of food. After, he took a bow to the seat that would remain empty for the rest of his life.

THREE YEARS LATER- KUN

“Therapy is at five p.m, don't be late.” she said.

“I don’t know why we’re going to therapy if we’re not going to work on our marriage.” Kun said. “Please help me understand.”

His ex-wife looked at him like she saw right through him. She was unbothered, not willing to waste a single emotion on the man before her. “It’s for the children.” was all she said before she got into her car and drove away.

Kun sat by himself on his front porch swing for a long time. His new house was smaller and bought with his own money. There was only enough room for him, and for his children whenever they wanted to see their dad on the weekends. With the end of his marriage, everything else seemed to go, too. He no longer had a job after getting caught having an another affair with one of the real teaching assistants. He figured it was a fair bit of karma for all the bad things he’d done, but it still didn’t make it an easy pill to swallow.

Occasionally, he would call your old phone number in hopes that you’d pick up, but you never did. It was probably for the best.

THREE YEARS LATER- YANGYANG

The massive backpack on his back made him sway a little. He found it so funny that he couldn’t read any of the signs in the foreign language. He’d met a lot of people on his travels, and each one found it charming that he was so carefree and kind. All it took was a smile from YangYang and the citizens were cured.

“Where are you going?” a traveler he had just met asked. He was an older man, way older than YangYang’s grandfather. He’d decided to travel and live a bit after his wife died. He was everything YangYang aspired to be, maybe, without all of the death.

“I don’t know.” YangYang said. “I guess, wherever the wind takes me.”

“Well, that’s a start.” the man said. “The train is here. Best go on your way, then.”

YangYang felt sad about having to say goodbye to the man. It was always like that over the last few years. He struck up conversations with so many good people, all of their stories worth telling, and then he’d have to say goodbye. Occasionally, they would exchange social media and whatever, but it never felt the same.

“This was nice.” YangYang said. “I really enjoyed hearing stories about your wife. She sounds like someone I would have liked.”

“You would have.” the old man said, his gaze on some distant memory. “Have safe travels and remember what I said, kid. Never stop. Take care.”

YangYang accepted the man's clap on his shoulder, even though it made him sway even more. The train stopped before him, windows slipping by. In the reflection as it slowed down, he thought he saw someone that looked an awful lot like you behind him, but when he turned around, no one was there.

THREE YEARS LATER- HENDERY

Since it was raining, the park was empty. Since he considered himself an idiot, he didn’t bring an umbrella.

Hendery approached the park bench like it was a bomb that could explode any minute. He looked around before taking off his jacket and stretching it across the surface to soak up some of the water. Then, he sat down and looked out over the grass. He blinked rain off his eyelashes and looked down at his lap. He did everything he could but check his phone. Over time, he looked up at the sky and let the water droplets hit his face. When he had done all the waiting he could do, he got up from the bench.

“Well.” he said, looking down at his soaked jacket.

Hendery picked it up from the bench and flung it over his shoulders. He took one last longing look at the bench for beginning to walk away. He was stopped by footsteps coming up from behind him. He turned around, placed the jacket back on the bench and sat down again. Hands on his knees, he stared straight ahead.

“You’re late.” he said.

The person sat beside him on the bench, their hands on their knees, staring straight ahead. At the same time, the person and Hendery looked at each other.

There wasn’t an apology you could say that would fit the crime. Hendery knew that. He looked straight ahead again, but he moved one hand from his knee and used it to hold yours. Your clasped hands sat between you on the bench, solid and true.

You looked at him before staring straight back ahead. Though it was pouring now, and your skin was slimy and your clothes wet all the way through, you didn’t seem to mind anymore.

106 notes · View notes

today-only-happens-once · 3 years

Text

in dusting cobwebs

word count: 2577

Summary: Grover reunites with Percy and Annabeth following the battle against Gaia. They talk about some things. They don't talk about others. || Percy jolts, realization hitting him sharper than Jason’s lightning. His eyes snap to focus on Grover, his stomach twisting with sudden nausea. “The empathy link.” || Percabeth with a focus on Grover being a good friend.

Warnings: spoilers for the Heroes of Olympus series; trauma/ptsd; discussion of Tartarus; emotional reunions; running away from problems; some tears/crying; one curse word courtesy Percy Jackson himself.

A/N: I had this idea rattling around in my brain since finishing Blood of Olympus a few months ago. Just couldn't get the right words in the right order until now. First time writing these characters, so some grace is appreciated. I hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3

Home. He was home.

Percy Jackson takes a deep breath of pine and distant sea air and tries to ignore the way the air is tinged slightly with the scent of copper. He closes his eyes for a moment tries to focus on the things that are familiar. The chatter of campers in the distance. The birds chirping overhead. The rustle of leaves from the light breeze that plays in the branches.

Standing on top of Half-Blood Hill, Percy feels something relax in his shoulders. The tightness in his chest stays, but he’s home and that’s not for nothing, right?

He feels Annabeth’s arm brush his own as a quiet reminder that she’s there beside him, and Percy opens his eyes. He reaches for her hand. Lots of things—lots of people—had been lost. He’s grateful beyond words that despite the odds, he is still standing here at Camp Half-Blood with her. He laces their fingers together, and out of the corner of his eye he swears he sees Annabeth release a breath of something like relief. She grips his hand a little harder.

Percy opens his mouth to say something about how he should go see his mom soon when he’s cut off by a familiar voice tearing through camp.

“PERCY!”

Percy’s head snaps instinctively towards the sound. He sees a blur of orange t-shirt and a flop of curly brown hair before the wind is knocked out of him. Percy staggers back a step before he returns Grover’s hug. The satyr is babbling something too fast for Percy to keep up with or follow.

“Whoa,” Percy says, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Hey, man.”

Grover pulls back a little, but he doesn’t fully let go. His fingers slide down Percy’s short sleeve before digging into Percy’s arms as if he half-expects that the son of the sea god is some kind of illusion. His best friend’s dark eyes flit over Percy several times over, like he’s looking for injuries or something. Grover had always been a worrier, Percy thinks.

The satyr looks older than Percy remembers, and he’s not sure if that’s because it’s been a year since he’s seen him or because of the weary look that lingers in his dark eyes. There’s a crease appearing between Grover’s brows.

“Long time no see, huh?” Percy offers by way of greeting.

Grover’s eyes snap back up to meet Percy’s but there’s something like doubt that lingers in his gaze that brings Percy up short. The satyr looks like he’s about to say something, but then his jaw clicks shut. He glances over at Annabeth, giving her the same several glances over that he’d given Percy.

“You’re back,” Grover says, but his voice sounds strangely high and tight. “I…”

“Grover?” Percy asks, feeling concern knot in his stomach. All the times he and Annabeth had gone off on dangerous quests and come back, Grover had never had this strong of a reaction to their return.

“I thought…” Grover trails off again, then suddenly yanks Percy and Annabeth both into a hug again.

Percy’s mouth twitches with a hint of a smile, but he can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong. When Grover releases them, Percy shoots a lightning-fast glance to Annabeth. She hides it well, but there’s the small crease between her brows that betrays that she is just as puzzled and worried as Percy feels.

“Miss us?” Percy says at a flimsy attempt at levity. Grover’s eyes look misty when they meet Percy’s, but he gives him a grin in response.

“You could say that.” He brushes the back of his hand across his eyes. He looks between Percy and Annabeth like he half-expects them to dissolve into smoke. “I didn’t… I mean I…”

Percy’s frown deepens as he cocks an eyebrow at his friend, but Grover averts his gaze and shakes his head quickly. Percy glances at Annabeth, but her eyes grow slightly wide as she looks at Grover, then pained.

“It was my fault,” she says suddenly. “I’m sorry.” Strands of her blonde hair stick to her face from sweat and smears of blood. There’s something earnest in her expression that Percy can’t explain.

Grover’s brow furrows. “Your…? Annabeth, I have a hard time believing that.”

Annabeth shakes her head, adamant. “It was. Arachne’s web got twisted around my ankle and… and it pulled me in, and Percy grabbed me, but—”

Tartarus. There’s a sudden sense of vertigo, and he reaches instinctively for Annabeth’s hand. He grips it, and the contact with her is enough to keep him from feeling like he’s falling into Tartarus again.

“Annabeth,” Grover is saying, but he sounds far away. “Annabeth, that doesn’t mean it’s your fault. I mean, gods, after what you two went through…”

Percy jolts, realization hitting him sharper than Jason’s lightning. His eyes snap to focus on Grover, his stomach twisting with sudden nausea. “The empathy link.”

Grover him a wan smile, and Percy is grateful for the way Annabeth gives his hand a small squeeze.

A faun had mentioned it when he was at Camp Jupiter, but he hadn’t known at the time what he’d been talking about. And once he got is memories back, it’d set off a chain reaction of events that had kept him from thinking too long about it since. But the empathy link… in Tartarus…

Percy swallows. “Shit, Grover. I—” His voice cuts out and he coughs to clear it, shaking his head quickly. “I didn’t even… are you okay?”

Grover stares at him, his eyes starting to get misty again. “You went to Tartarus and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

“Yes.”

Grover opens his mouth, then shuts it. He blinks hard and tries again. “I’m just glad to see both of you in one piece.”

It’s not an answer. Percy knows that. It’s avoidance, and gods forgive him but he can’t bring himself to press Grover on the issue. Maybe it’s selfish of him. But he’s finally home—home, gods, it’s been so long—and the last thing he wants to do right now is talk about Tartarus. In the back of his mind, he wonders just how much of Tartarus Grover knows about. If he knows the things Percy’s done…

He doesn’t want to think about it. In fact, the last thing he wants is to deal with the memories of Tartarus that seem to cling to him like they’re in lockstep with his shadow.

“I’d ask you guys if you’re okay but… I think I know that answer,” Grover says when neither Percy nor Annabeth says anything.

He doesn’t want to talk about it. “Hey, we’re here, aren’t we?” Percy offers, and if his hand is shaking just a little, well. He hopes Annabeth doesn’t notice. “Nice to be breathing that fresh camp air.”

Doubt flickers across Grover’s eyes. “Percy—”

“Is Chiron around?”

Grover’s mouth presses into a thin line. Then he sighs, and nods towards the Big House. “Yeah. I think he’s helping Will round up the injured.”

Percy leans over and quickly kisses Annabeth’s cheek. “I’ll go find him. I’ll be back, okay? Promise.”

Annabeth watches Percy run towards the Big House, only to be intercepted by Connor Stoll. A part of her wants to follow him, and her fingers twitch with his abrupt absence. She folds her arms across her chest instead.

“You both seem… different,” Grover says quietly. Annabeth glances at him, but he’s also watching Percy at the bottom of the slope. His eyes flicker briefly to Annabeth before returning to Percy. “Not in a bad way,” he adds. “Just… different.”

Annabeth sighs. “Yeah,” she says. “I feel… different.”

She couldn’t explain exactly why or how. Rome clung to her like cobwebs cling to corners. The things she’d seen and done to get to and through the Doors had sharpened her edges in ways that were hard for her to explain, which was extra frustrating as a daughter of Athena. She didn’t feel like the same person who’d left camp on the Argo II, and she wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

They’d made it through the Doors, defeated the giants, defeated Gaia… but it didn’t feel, exactly, like the victory she’d imagined. Annabeth was beginning to think that victory was a hard weight to bear.

“Getting that message to Connor was genius, by the way,” Grover offers. “It saved camp, you know. Both camps, really.”

The corner of Annabeth’s mouth twitches at the compliment. It hadn’t felt like a genius move; it’d felt like a shot in the dark.

Annabeth can feel the stale adrenaline from the battle bleeding out of her, replaced instead by an ache in her bones that makes even standing upright exhausting. She can’t remember the last time she got a decent night’s rest, and it felt like she’d fought her way through a marathon sprint of monsters and giants. She takes a deep breath and sits down on the patch of grass where they’re standing, pulling her knees up.

Grover sits beside her without another word. For a while, neither of them says anything. Annabeth drums her fingers on her elbows as she folds her arms on top of her knees. For the first time in what feels like months, Annabeth pauses.

Campers intermingle with one another while they clean up from the battle. Birds chirp overhead and wind rustles through the leaves in the nearby trees. The Athena Parthenos casts a long shadow that Annabeth must admit, she finds comforting. She watches Percy wave a farewell to Connor, and offers her boyfriend a faint smile when he looks back at her before he disappears around a corner.

Distantly, she can hear the voice of Will Solace bickering with Nico di Angelo and a second later finds both them helping a pair of injured campers limp back to their cabins. She watches the breeze create ripples in the grass around her. For a moment, her eyes flicker skyward as if she might see Leo streaking like a comet through the sky back to camp.

Wishful thinking. Her chest twinges.

Annabeth was tired of missing people. A lifetime ago, she would have given nearly anything to be given a prophecy. Now, she hoped to never hear another prophecy in her life, and especially not one that involved anyone she knew. Annabeth was no stranger to loss, but she was tired of it. She’s… tired in a way that a nap won’t fix. Maybe she should feel grateful that she didn’t lose anyone else, but it seems like an awfully shitty consolation prize.

At least she didn’t lose Percy in Tartarus. Her chest clenches and she shoves the thought into the back corner of her mind.

“I know you guys don’t want to talk about it,” Grover says quietly and Annabeth startles. She’d almost forgotten he was there, and she wonders briefly if he somehow read her mind. “And that’s okay. I can’t say I blame either one of you for that.”

Annabeth averts her gaze when Grover’s own rises to meet hers.

Grover continues anyway. “But Annabeth… you should know that nobody expects you to just be okay after something like that. I only got a vague sense of it secondhand, and it…” His voice wavers, then trails off. He tries again. “Anyway. If you do decide you want to talk about it… either one of you? I’m around.”

“I think Percy is mad at me,” Annabeth blurts out suddenly. It’s stupid, she tells herself. Of all the things they faced… the lingering sense that Percy still hadn’t fully forgiven her for making them leave Bob behind presses at her mind. Maybe Percy’s anger is easier to deal with than everything else that happened there. Maybe it’s harder. Annabeth doesn’t know.

Out of the corner of her eye, Annabeth sees Grover’s brows shoot up towards his hairline. “You… why?”

Annabeth tells him. Not about everything—there’s far too much she’s still trying not to think about—but she tells him about Bob, and his sacrifice, and Annabeth’s forcing of Percy’s hand. About abandoning him down there, about how her chest feels tight every time she looks at the stars for too long.

“Percy doesn’t hold that against you,” Grover says, with so much conviction and certainty that it catches Annabeth off guard.

She blinks. “What?”

Grover shakes his head a little. “I… Look, I’m not trying to use the empathy link to like, tell you how Percy feels. I kind of feel like that’s an invasion of Percy’s privacy? But… he’s not angry with you.” Grover sighs, then adds more quietly, “If anything, I think he’s angry with himself.”

Annabeth is quiet. She wants to tell Grover that Percy shouldn’t be angry with himself, but she’d be speaking to the choir. Besides, there’d be a certain hypocrisy in that, wouldn’t there?

She glances at Grover, who watches a group of Greek campers load a Roman camper onto a makeshift stretcher. Grover seems different too, now that Annabeth is looking at him. He seems… older. A little bigger, sure, but… there’s something aged and weary in his eyes that goes past his years. It’s a look that Annabeth knows all too well, when kids too young are forced to shoulder too much.

She understands. Most of the people at camp hadn’t even graduated high school yet and fought in two wars now. Annabeth had only narrowly escaped with her life both times, and she knew she wasn’t alone in that. She’d long ago lost count of how many times she came close to death, of how many times she thought Percy or other friends were dead. She’d lost count of how often her hands shook when she was alone, of how many nightmares had jolted her from sleep.

The regular life of a still-living demigod. She thought of all the people who didn’t make it through. Those who weren’t as lucky as she was.

“I’m glad you’re here, Grover,” she says suddenly.

Grover looks at her in surprise, but offers her a tired smile. “Back at ya, Annabeth.”

“Everything feels different now.”

“Yeah,” Grover agrees with a nod. “But not everything is. You’ll be okay. So will Percy.” Annabeth looks at him, but he just gives her a knowing look.

Annabeth swallows thickly. “How can you be so sure?”

Grover is quiet for a moment, his gaze trailing back out to the hustle and bustle around camp. “Well… Look around, Annabeth. What do you see?”

She looks. She sees Jason with his arm slung around Piper’s shoulder. Connor Stoll wrapping a young camper’s ankle with a bandage. Reyna, Hazel, and Nico cleaning up debris and broken weaponry left behind by the injured and fallen. Jake Mason showing a Roman camper how to use crutches.

“I see my friends and allies,” she says, surprised by the sudden lump in her throat.

Grover nods with a small smile. “Helping each other. Because that’s what we do, and that’s how I know. You and Percy will be okay because you have another, and you’ve got us.” He knocks his shoulder into Annabeth’s. “You’re not alone.”

Annabeth’s voice fails her, her eyes stinging slightly. She blinks quickly and nods.

Grover smiles more and pushes himself to his feet. He dusts his hands off on just shirt and then offers a hand to Annabeth. “Let’s get to helping, yeah?”

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viperbarnes · 3 years

Note

Hey, idk if your requests are open, but if they are, can I request one with Bucky Barnes? Something where the reader maybe had encountered the winter soldier in the past (but is now maybe working with Sam and has some unspoken feelings with Bucky) and in the scene in ep 3 where Zemo tells Bucky to fight at the bar it ends up bringing her some bad memories of the winter soldier? Later Bucky can tell she's not okay and is acting skittish around him, and when she finally tells him about it he feels extremely guilty but she comforts him? I just love angst with a happy ending :3

I don’t really take requests, but this little idea was kinda inspiring so here ya go boo!

Gif belongs to @unearthlydust

Warnings for violence, blood, and being sick

You know he’s changed.

You know that he’s no longer the man he was when you first encountered him, you know the man he is now, a strange mix of conflicting outspokenness and quiet guilt. You know how he takes his coffee, and that even though he doesn’t necessarily feel the cold, he doesn’t like it all the same.

You know that he sleeps on the floor in his living room despite having a perfectly good bed, that from the moment he’d stepped foot into his apartment he’d had the best mode of escape clocked. You know that he has a secret soft spot for terrible action films, and gets misty-eyed at adverts with dogs in them.

You know all of this, and maybe that’s why it’s so terrifying.

Baron Helmut Zemo rubbed you all kinds of wrong ways, and you hadn’t even been present when he’d shown his face last. There was just something about him that made your skin crawl, but it wasn’t as if you could pull either one of your new partners aside and tell them that.

They already knew, already felt it too.

The feeling gets worse when he voices his plan, giving you all your roles to play, but again, it wasn’t as if you could pipe up and tell him to screw off. You all wanted to, but for now, you needed him and his stupid plan.

It’s how you wind up in too high heels and a little black dress that splits unnecessarily far up your thigh, how Sam ends up in a delightfully adventurous suit, and how Bucky is landed with pretending to still be a brainwashed assassin.

You can’t stop the scowl from taking up residence on your features as you move through the streets of Madripoor, glad that nobody really seems to pay attention to you, not when the Winter Soldier was around.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take long for everything to turn to shit, and you nearly hiss at the way Zemo commands Bucky to fight. For his part, Bucky seems completely unperturbed, but perhaps that was part of disturbed you so much.

He’s beautiful, it’s undeniable, even when he fights, it’s magnetic. There was nothing graceful about it by any means, he’s brutal and abrupt, near-mechanical in how he moves. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away, and suddenly, you’re no longer in Madripoor, no longer in your stupid little dress and heels.

You push the man you’re protecting into the back of the car with a mighty shove. The wheels might’ve blown, but it was still another obstacle between him and the attacker.

Smoke blows across the road ahead of you, the flipped car that had previously been part of your convoy crackling with flames from the IED. You’d half expected a group of insurgents, but you’re greeted with just one man, striding confidently through the smoke and right towards you.

He was tall, broad, and covered head to toe in black, only his eyes and hair visible. Sunlight glints off the metallic of his sleeve, but when you take a closer look, you realise it’s not a sleeve at all.

Mouth dry and heart racing, you palm your weapon and fire twice. The man lifts the metal limb and blocks like it’s nothing. He’s nearing now, and for the first time in your career, you feel anxiety overcome you.

He doesn’t even try to attack you until you throw the first punch. He ducks it easily, blocks the follow up blow by batting your wrist to the side. His eyes set on you then, blank and oddly calm, and blue as the sky above.

He pulls back his own fist, and somehow you manage to dodge, jumping back and raising your gun again. No way he’d fair this close. But you’re wrong. You get three shots off before he’s in your face again, hand grabbing the barrel of your gun and yanking it from your grasp. You hear the clatter of it when it hits the ground, but don’t have the chance to formulate your next move.

Your throat is grabbed hard, and you’re forcibly shoved back until you hit the wrecked car. You grasp in vein at the man’s hand as it tightens, and with your back now against something, manage to put all your years of training to use.

You get your foot up between you, planting it harshly in his center mass and kicking with all your might. It seems to take him off guard, because he stumbles back, releasing your throat. You take the moment to turn around, hands banging on the car window.

“Go! Run! I’ll distract him!” You scream at your ward, and watch as the man scrambles from the car, out the opposite door.

You’re about to turn around when the back of your neck is grabbed and thrust forward, connecting with the car window so hard it cracks. You gasp, calling out in pain as blood immediately begins dripping down your face. He pulls you back to do it again, but you drop, becoming dead weight and managing to slip under his legs and out of his hold.

Still, you’re dazed, and blood seeps into your vision making your disorientation even worse. You stumble, knees meeting the ground for a moment as you grab at your forehead and clench your eyes closed to try and clear your head.

The deafening sound of three quick gunshots opens a pit in your stomach, and you just know, without even seeing, that you’d failed.

You get your eyes open by the time the assassin is stalking back towards you, gun holstered now. He closes his fist around your throat again and lifts you clean off the ground, his other pulled back and raised to hit you. You fumble, finding your mark and pulling the gun from his hip, pressing it to his abdomen and firing. Again, he reels back, dropping you and keeling over.

You don’t even attempt to finish him off properly, your fight or flight activated. He was downed anyways, and there was no way he’d give chase with a wound to the center mass like that.

But you’re wrong. You make it barely to the end of the block before something embeds itself between your shoulder blades, the pain so sharp and sudden it makes you fall. Before you know it, a weight is pressing down hard against your shoulder, a boot, and the knife is ripped from your body mercilessly.

You cry out in pain, life flashing before your eyes when a fist harshly grips you by the hair and pulls back your head. You feel the blade, still slick with your own blood, press against your throat.

Sudden yelling makes the assassin freeze, and with your head still raised, you can see the approach of several heavily armoured men in black. The one who shouts is speaking Russian, but your brain was too frazzled to translate properly.

The knife is removed from your throat, and your head released. The weight on your body leaves and you’re left gasping on the asphalt. Spots dance in your vision, but before you pass out, you lift your head just enough to see the assassin join the other men, before they disappear into a dark vehicle.

The place between your shoulder blades aches with memory, and you can think of nothing else for the rest of the night.

Even when you’re taken to see Shelby, even when the fighting starts and you’re forced to run, even when Sharon saves your asses and lets you crash at her place.

You change into the first thing Sharon suggests for you, not even caring. You felt numb, and cold and sick. You position yourself on the couch with the view of all the room’s doors and windows and sit quietly as the others talk. It isn’t until Bucky comes out of nowhere and sits himself next to you that you finally make any noise.

Unfortunately, that noise is a frightened gasp.

Everyone stops to look at you, Sam’s features folded into concern, while Zemo just seemed mildly amused. Bucky looked nearly as surprised as you, his eyes turned up at you. That’s when you realise you’ve shot up, gun in your hands and aimed directly at him.

That same sickness becomes overwhelming then, and the weapon falls from your hands to the carpet with a thud.

“I-- I didn’t--” You swallow thickly, eyes never leaving the man in front of you.

“--I’m sorry…” You manage to blurt out but quickly fly from the room, desperately seeking a sink, or a bathroom of some sort.

You reach a toilet just in time, emptying the contents of your stomach inside. You wheeze and choke as the sick burns your throat and you struggle to breathe, your eyes stinging as you hack and heave.

Hands gently pull at your hair, gathering it out of your face and holding it back, a warmth dropping beside you in the tiny space. You half expect to find Sam or Sharon, but you’re not unsurprised to find Bucky crouched down, his features a mix of sympathy and concern.

“Breathe through your nose.” He instructs, free hand moving to rub over your back soothingly, unintentionally brushing over your long-healed stab wound.

“I’m sorry…” You rasp when it seems you’re finished.

“You alright?” Is all he asks, hand moving to steady your shoulder when you move back from the toilet. Your miserable nod allows him to stand, and he closes the lid and flushes, before staring down at you and offering you his hand.

You don’t hesitate before taking it. You know Bucky. You know he’s changed.

He hovers over you as you step into the bathroom, seeking mouthwash that you use three times before you feel actually refreshed, and splash some water on your hot and splotchy face.

“You alright?” He asks again, looking at you in the mirror.

“I…” You trail off, clearing your throat.

“I forgot how good you are with your fists.” You tell him, attempting a smile, but it just comes out pained.

Bucky frowns at first, blinking in confusion until his eyes flash with recognition and he sucks back a breath.

“I-- I can go. Or you can. You don’t have to--”

“-- No, Bucky, I’m not quitting this.” You say firmly, turning to face him properly. He seems to be pressing himself against the wall, attempting to make himself look small and unthreatening, which was hard to do when he was a six foot four super soldier built like a tank.

“It wasn’t real.” He says quietly, avoiding your eyes, and you smile tightly.

“I know. But you’re a good actor.”

His eyes flicker up to yours, pained, and you cough.

“Buck, it’s… it’s not your fault.” You tell him, but his chin only drops further.

“I nearly killed you.” He hisses, more anger in his voice than you’re expecting.

“But you didn’t. And my freak out was just--” You cut yourself off, humming.

“My freak out was because I haven’t seen you fight since then, but I’m not scared of you James.” You step forward then, close enough to draw his eye.

“You pulled a gun on me.” He says, the hints of a joke playing in his words.

“I’ve pulled guns on lots of people, doesn’t make me scared of them.” he lets you move closer still, and hesitantly you reach out, laying a hand on his arm.

“I don’t like to see you like that, Buck… it’s awful.” You admit, glad when his posture seems to relax some.

“It’s not you.” You go on, trying not to give too much away, but you’re sure you’re already seen through.

“If I can help it, it won’t happen again.” He tells you, and you finally lift your gaze to make eye contact.

Something sparks between you, something that had been subtle and unspoken up until now. Something that had been there, lurking under the surface ever since he’d shown up on your doorstep several months back, just to let you know he was in the city and going to therapy. It was there when you’d tentatively begun hanging out, neither of you really having anybody else, but not being too bothered by that either.

It’s something big and intimidating that draws you closer together, hearts beating quick and shallow under your skin. Bucky’s eyes flicker to your lips, and suddenly everything seems real.

“Hey, everything alright?” Sam appears in the open doorway, and you jump away from each other. The other man’s eyes travel between the two of you suspiciously, and you scramble to get a handle on the situation.

“Just had a bad shot at the bar.” You tell him, glancing sideways at Bucky who avoids all eye contact.

“... Right…” Sam draws out the word.

“Well, Sharon’s party is getting started, so…”

“Right! Yeah! I’ll… I’ll go… to that… the party. Now.” You stutter and stumble over words, quickly pushing past him and leaving the room.

Sam stays in the doorway, watching you leave, before his gaze swivels back to Bucky.

“Called it.” He says smugly, and Bucky’s eyes snap to him.

“What?”

“I called that you two had a thing.” He teases. Bucky glares and crosses his arms.

“We don’t have a thing. There is no thing.” He insists, but Sam only hums, shrugging.

“That’s why I walked in on the two of you about to eat each other’s faces off.”

Bucky scrunches up his nose.

“That’s… gross.” He tells the other man, who ignores him.

“You got time for that later. I’m sure Zemo’s plane has a stall big enough for two. For now, we gotta go.”

Bucky can only grumble in annoyance as he follows Sam from the bathroom, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught of commentary he was set to receive from now on.

Still, as he watches you slip on those sleek black heels, he thinks there’s probably worse things to put up with.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes/you #bucky barnes/reader #tfatws spoilers #Anonymous

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my-writings-and-musings · 3 years

Note

For the bot reader sparkling prompt what about Swerve and or Whirl? (I’m especially curious about Whirl’s reaction if the (or one) of the sparkling(s) resembles him pre-empurata) I would toss a possible Misfire in there too but I don’t think he’s a bot you usually do.

Hope you're ready for FEELS and CUTE SPARKLINGS because that's absolutely my favorite combo anon! Plus I'd always liked the Scavengers but never really looked into their appearance in the comic until now, and thank you for giving me the impetus to learn about the chaotic but still lovable gaggle of misfits.

Swerve

·He's admittedly been on a whole new level of euphoria since the two of you started dating, but the moment he found out you were gonna be Creators he more or less ascended. Every scan nearly brings him to tears and he keeps all the pictures on him wherever he goes, so any bot that comes near will be ambushed by a flood of bragging and a veritable album of a bitlet that hasn't even been born yet. Suffice to say that when it was finally time to meet your little bundle, he was emotional, though for your sake he remained a surprisingly steadfast and supportive partner through the entire emergence. But the moment he laid his visor on that squawling little bitlet...

·"Tears" aren't quite sufficient to describe the waterfall that poured from his visor, but thankfully the staff was quite accustomed to such reactions and smoothly checked over the newborn before handing them back to their new parents. As a metallurgist for a species made of metal that's at it's most vulnerable after birth, he's actually been present for a few sparklings entering the world to provide potential care for those considered high risk, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing your beautiful new bitlet in person.

·Between praising you and the beeb he can hardly get a coherent word out through the blubbering, but his awe and adoration is still clear as day. You made a whole new bot, and now they're here, and they're the most amazing little sparkling the planet has ever seen! Every feature of yours or his that he sees gets him crying anew, and he can't possibly fathom what he's done to deserve any of these blessings. Countless photos of their first few hours are accumulated to join his collection in addition to being shared via intergalactic Wi-Fi to every friend you have.

·When your chosen visitors arrive he's absolutely effusive with his praise of you and the beeb. Do they see this bitlet? Have any of them ever seen anything this precious in all of history?! His Conjunx made them isn't that the most amazing thing in the entire galaxy like how did they even do that?! Even bots who know him well are amazed by how genuinely tender and affectionate he is, as there's not a joke to be heard from him even once. Truthfully he can't think of anything funny about this at all, except maybe how even the tougher bots that visit absolutely melt when they see the sweet little face of a newborn amidst a bundle of blankets, but he can't really blame them now can he?

·Despite all of his joy for the two of you being Creators, when it's just you and him and the sparkling again, he's quite hesitant to ask if he can hold them. He's held them before in the rush of the moment, but here in the still and calm... It worries him. There's so much caution in his grip when he takes them into a gentle cradle, his bulky arms easily supporting the tiny weight despite how unnaturally heavy they feel. There's a flash of worry for all the chances he'll have to mess up, but that disappears when a little fist pops free of the blanket and into the bitlets mouth, where they contentedly suckle on it in the most adorable display he's ever beheld. Somehow he knows it will be okay in that moment, because he'll never let anything happen to you or your new little addition.

Whirl

·His reaction to his own prospective sirehood was a near perfect example of internal screaming beneath a veneer of calm. Of course he wasn't necessarily surprised, and he loved you more than anything in any universe, but... you've met him, right? Sure, you fragged him, but have you paid attention to the kind of bot he is? Do you really want any of this around a sparkling, or remixed into one? Admittedly he hadn't had an argument for your simple "yes" in reply, and to the day your little bitlet arrives he still can't think of a rebuttal, beyond how his claws don't give you much of a hand to hold or provide good massages.

·Somehow the entire process manages to be Unicron levels of unthinkable horror and awe inspiring beautiful wonder at the exact same time, and his attitude is even more varied as a result. There are moments he's the calm partner whispering sweet nothings, the aggressive coach shouting for you to kick labor's ass, the panicking wimp who refuses to believe the body parts he's seeing belong where they are, and the petrified but dutiful sire-to-be frozen in horror while you hold onto him for dear life. Thankfully he manages to reign it all in once the two of you have a newly minted bitlet wailing in the real world.

·He'd expected to be awed, but also knew to brace for seeing a bundle that... didn't much resemble his current self, due to Empurata not affecting genetics, but he never could have prepared himself for the reality. One look at this tiny and flawless little accident and he comes embarrassingly close to fainting, his long legs folding into a chair some brilliant medic was smart enough to push beside the bed, and his optic growing misty as he beholds you and the whole new person you made. There's awe at the fact he contributed to making something unbelievably perfect, happiness for a million reasons he doesn't care to comprehend, but also... sadness. A face he'd never thought he would see again is looking up at him with the biggest and most innocent pair of optics, all while a tiny mouth nibbles on a pair of servos so like the ones he had taken from him.

·He should be... angry, maybe? Old Whirl would have been angry, furious at the Functionists for ruining so much, but he just doesn't feel it. The sadness in his spark isn't even for him, it's for this little one who will grow up and eventually figure out why his sire looks the way he does, and all the pain that may cause a bot who never did anything to anyone... But that feeling is so small it's quickly swept away so he can feel what he actually wants to feel, and he wants to feel happy damn it! You and he have a bitlet, and a pretty good one as far as bitlets go! Heavy stuff can be addressed later, the two of you get to enjoy this with friends! There's precious few bots he trusts enough to visit, but those that make the cut are welcomed and invited to pay respects to the cutest sparkling ever born and the bot who squeezed them out. He has to fight incredibly hard to keep from shedding happy tears, but seeing so many of his friends coo over this tiny miracle strains his emotional reservation to the limits.

·For all the love he has for the little one, and all his progress in accepting himself, he still hasn't held them by the time night is settling and you're in need of rest. Only your obvious exhaustion and his protective nature compels him to finally accept the sleeping sparkling, and even then he's a wreck on the inside, his spark all but crackling with anxiety as the delicate beeb is laid in his arms while he stays carefully seated. Nothing could have made him understand just how tiny this little guy was until this moment. As you drift off, he tempts fate and holds out the tip of a careful claw, not daring to ventilate as he gently adjusts some blankets for a better look. Something like abject terror shoots through him as a stubby hand takes hold of him, but he doesn't move, and the little one only coos and keeps his solid little grip. At that he lets himself cry just a little. Nothing will ever hurt you or this tiny gift so long as he lives, and he won't let anything past present or future ruin the happiness you've made together.

Misfire

·His whole life he's had a soft spot for things that need caring for, but every time he's found something or someone to take care of he's told himself all he really cares about is the potential benefit for him. Recent events have forced him to admit that there's a soft spark under his... business savvy ways. Finding out he'd be a sire though? That was an entirely new level of self discovery, because he's absolutely thrilled and has no logical reason why. He quickly has to tell the rest of the Scavengers, which becomes daily updates on everything sparkling related, so even his close collection of friends is admittedly a little relieved when the bitlet finally arrives and they can meet them. Thankfully none of them were there to see him faint on more than one occasion during the delivery, but he does have to make up a story about the dents on his head when he calls to give the announcement that their newest Scavenger has arrived, claiming that he got them in a heroic dive to save the bitlet when they were still slippery and dropped by a medic.

·While never one to be too mushy, he's made incredibly sappy just by the sight of the new little bitlet when they finally end up clean and swaddled in your arms. All across the little one's features are pieces of him that he recognizes on the spot. Blended perfectly with those are obvious signs of you, creating a whole new being who's got some of you both while still existing as their own unique little wonder. It defies all logic and yet he's so happy he can't really bring himself to care. From their optics to their stubby hands to their impossibly cute little pedes they're already the most perfect being to ever come into existence, making them tied with his Creators for perfection, and no bot is ever going to be able to convince him otherwise on that undeniable fact. But, for the sake of the moment he does have to wonder; does this sparkling yet realize how attractive they're going to be?

·The group is getting a million messages a minute from the new sire as they head over to see the newest addition, and when they finally arrive he does everything he can to present the little beeb with a proper introduction but can't stop getting misty optics and sniffling the whole time. Thankfully the Scavengers are an understanding bunch. Every one of them welcomes their new teammate with a carefully observant Misfire there to ensure they don't risk any kind of damage to the bitlet. Not that he doesn't trust them, but he does know them, so... None of them take it personally. Nickel is spared this oversight, of course, being a responsible bot and a medic more than capable of holding even a proportionally sizable sparkling. One she informs the new Creators is very cute in her proffesional opinion.

·Grimlock gets a special little moment with the new Sire, specifically one in which he gets to truly see how far he's come with his little adopted family now that it's started to grow. Misfire is fully trusting as he hands over the snoozing bitlet, and while the Dinobot is beyond touched, he does indeed hesitate just the tiniest bit. Gigantic servos absolutely dwarf the sparkling when they're settled within. Despite what any bot walking into the room might think, Misfire knows that at this very moment his bitlet is more or less in the safest place in the universe. They seem to be at least somewhat aware of this, as their little tubby cheeks lift up in a smile when they behold the gigantic bot looking down on them, a sight so unimaginably adorable it makes every bot present shed at least a single tear.

·When the rest of the group heads out after leaving a mountain of gifts in their wake, Misfire happily takes the beeb so you can get some sleep, because he at least got some rest when he passed out during emergence. Holding his little one with just the tiniest hint of uncertainty, he spends the night mostly chatting with them in a fully one sided whisper conversation, though he does occasionally get a tiny sound from the sparkling he'll swear is a coherent reply. Understandably, this little one has a lot to catch up on though. He can't help smiling at the thought of all the adventures he's going to be able to brag about to them, and how many you'll all have together once this little one is up and finally walking. There's so much he'll have to teach them too, and somehow that excites him more, knowing you and he will get to help shape this little wonder into the most amazing bot that's ever lived...

#transformers #more than meets the eye #mtmte #idw #maccadam #tf #lost light #my writing #my asks #anon #swerve x reader #whirl x reader #misfire x reader #scavengers #transformers sparklings #bot reader #self insert #requests

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kerwritesthings · 3 years

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Orange Blossom At The Bottom Of A Shot Glass

Summary: Salty is followed by sour, which should always be followed by sweet.

Word Count: almost 3.7k

Warning: little cursing, little sexual tension, a bunch of sweet and fluff

Author Notes: ::taps on mic:: Soooo it’s been a GOOD while. The muse has been a little bit of a fickle bitch. Or a lot of one, actually. Also didn’t help that the last piece I wrote totally went a hard boom splat - gee thanks tall idiot Canadian one for that :P

HOWEVER, the muse decided to let go with some of the hockey boys and me play with some words for J’s Winter Writing Challenge. I’m just one day off deadline, though I still want to fill the other 1-2 I was thinking of. Thank you J for pulling this all together, you’re a peach.

This one, is the first attempt at writing Tyler, so please be kind to a girl. It was fun to play in this little part of my hockeysphere/hockeyblr.

I’m also maybe possibly most likely making this into a verse/series. Cause y’all should know that’s how I roll.

The prompt from the challenge was: “Take another step and I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

“From the cute one in the three piece purple suit at the end of the bar, said to get you another of whatever you’re drinking,” Misty says, sliding the half-sugar rimmed martini glass across the copper bar top. “Wouldn’t even entertain doing this if I didn’t know most of them.”

“Thanks Mis,” you smile, pushing your empty glass towards her.

You peek down slyly towards the right. A gaggle of tall, well dressed men circle the far end. You think some look familiar. Then you see who Misty meant when he turns towards the front of the bar and towards where you’re sitting. You know straightaway who he is, know the reputation, the rumblings. It’s hard not to, as big as Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex is, it’s not at the same time. It also helps that you’ve been a hockey fan since birth, paying attention to the boys in green since you moved to Dallas a handful of years ago.

“Misty are you fucking kidding me?” you snap when she wanders back towards you.

“Nope,” she grins like the cat who got the canary. “You should go over and say thank you. Promise you, you may think you know, but he’s a good guy. The lot of them are.”

You shake your head no, downing half your drink in one sip before wiping your finger against the glass to lick at some of the sanding sugar. Misty’s blood orange martinis are your favorite, and a weakness you cannot kick when she’s got the good stuff in stock.

“Give me a blank tabcard and a pen,” you ask. “How many of them are down there? Do a round of shots on my bill, but lemme think of what to send while I write this.”

Misty places one of her pens, a card and your Visa to the right of your cocktail. You carefully fold the card in half, tearing it in two. On one half you cleanly script out your name and cell number while on the second half, you write a cheeky little note:

If you can figure out what the shot is, Misty has something for you. Thanks for the martini, the second always hits better especially when you lick the sugar rim.

“Mis, do you know how to make a reckless slut?” you snicker, capping the pen.

“Red-headed slut, but with whiskey instead of Jaeger yeah?” she questions, looking underneath the bar for a bigger, clean cocktail shaker.

“Honey whiskey if you’ve got it,” you respond, polishing off the rest of your martini before gathering your things. “Then it’s just a touch lighter on the peach. If he can guess it right, then you give him the second half of the note.”

“You got it, I’ll see you,” she waves, off to the middle of the bar to find more ingredients.

You carefully glance down towards the opposite end, noticing the boys all wrapped up so you carefully slip out to make your exit, smiling and shaking your head.

“I’m absolutely insane,” you say out loud to yourself as you head towards your car.

“Segs, my girl left this for you and a round on her for the rest of the motley crew,” Misty explains, slipping him the first card before handing out the shot glasses.

“What she say?” Jamie nudges.

“Other than I missed her licking the rim of her glass?” he chides. “I need to guess what this is and then Misty has something for me, supposedly.”

“I do,” Misty replies, handing the rest of the shots out. “She picked a bit of a good one to leave for you too. Cheers boys, bellow if you need anything.”

He lifts the glass, sniffing it at first, not having any clue.

“J, Rads you guys have any idea?” Tyler asks, they both shake their head.

“Bottoms up,” Jamie adds before they all tip the shots back.

“Anybody?” Tyler pushes again, glasses clicking on the copper.

“I know,” a voice chimes in from the back, dropping the empty shot glass onto the bar.

“Come on then Dicky,” Tyler urges.

He looks at Tyler, trying to hold back a laugh but it doesn’t work.

“It’s a reckless slut,” he manages out between his laughter. “It’s something else dark in place of Jägermeister. Slightly fitting, eh?”

The group busts out in hoops, hollers and their own peals of laughter while Tyler shoves at the one closest to him, this time it’s Alex.

“Whiskey, honey whiskey actually, so nice one there Jason. Winner gets this,” Misty trills happily, wiggling a card in front of the group.

“Hey, wait a second,” Tyler snaps, trying to lean over to snatch the card from the bartender.

“That’s the rules she set,” she says, flicking the card over to his teammate. “Take it up with him, he got it right.”

“What’s it worth?” Jason grins, fist bumping with Misty before turning more towards Tyler.

“Not whatever you’re scheming in that brain of yours,” he takes a pull off his beer.

“I was just gonna say take care of dinner tonight, but if it’s not worth that,” Jason trails off.

“Damnit Dicky,” he sighs, hand flexing around the bottle.

“Let’s go boys, they’re ready for us,” Joe interjects from the outskirts of the group, nodding to the back dining room. “And we like it here so no bloodshed, ok?”

You’re just about to slip the key into your front door lock when your phone buzzes in quick repeated blips. You juggle everything in, snag a bottle of water from the fridge before plopping down on the couch to see what has your phone trilling.

So, Tyler didn’t win the challenge, I did and Misty followed the rules passing it to the winner! Hi, I’m Jason.

::selfie of Jason with the boys scattered about behind him at the bar::

I’m refusing for a bit to give him your number. Want to spare and maybe prepare you before I do. Plus, it’s fun to watch him squirm for a bit when it comes to shit like this.

The reckless slut shot was a nice touch, so I’m hopeful in assuming when you spotted us, him really, you kind of knew who was all down at that end of the bar. Probably have heard some things about his adventures and antics, cause who hasn’t.

I can tell you most of it is blown out of proportion, don’t get me wrong he has his fun, but he’s not an asshole.

Maybe we can all do lunch after practice? I’m happy to play buffer if you don’t want to deal with him solo. We’ll go somewhere solid and make him pick it up :)

You cannot help but smile when flipping through the messages, making sure to save both Jason’s number and ridiculous selfie to your contacts list. You fire off a quick thanks text to Misty before you settle in to figure out the best reply to Jason.

You’re a good teammate and a better friend. I would also make him squirm for a bit too, little shit deserves a bit of discomfort.

I appreciate that, Jason – thank you. I know better than to judge a book by its cover, but it’s hard when the Cliffs Notes versions are face up all over the place. Plus, a lady can never be too careful.

Want to try lunch next week, the three of us? I can’t remember what your upcoming game sitch is like, sorry. Maybe PS214? Something good that’s not too fussy, but chill. Plus, they should have enough options for whatever your nutritionist wants you boys to try to stick to or options to totally cheat out on.

I’ve got some flex in my schedule for lunches, my later afternoons get to be what’s stickier.

You know they were having a team dinner, so you don’t expect a response right away, so you pull yourself together to wash up and get to bed. You wake up to a flurry of more texts the next morning, plans for lunch Monday their practice and a video clip of the two of them, which was utterly ridiculous and adorable at the same time. It eased your tensions just a touch, but lunch would be the kicker.

“There’s my favorite foodie,” Phil the manager says, hugging you immediately. “I was so happy to see your name on the reservations. Is this a work thing or a pleasure thing?”

“Little of both, I’ve got two possibly three of Dallas’ favorite hockey team joining me which is why I asked about the back-corner alcove,” you explain. “But I also want to taste some of the new things you’ve been floating both at the bar and on the menu. Nothing formal yet, but I’m thinking of trying to pull together something around new happy hour approaches.”

“I think one of your lunch companions just walked in,” Phil responds, as you catch someone walking towards the two of you from the corner of your eye. “I know him and his wife, they’ve been in a few times. Hey Jason, nice to see you.”

“Hey Phil, wasn’t sure if you’d be here, good to see you. You’ve met one half of my lunch date already?” he shakes Phil’s hand before reaching for yours.

“She and I run in the same circles, mutual friends, some projects that have crossed paths,” Phil adds. “We’re waiting on one more, yes?”

His phone trills, “It’s Segs, he’s parking now and apologized for being late. He had to let the pups out because his dog sitter couldn’t get there early today.”

“I was early, force of habit, so no worries,” you reply. “He’s going to be pretty much on time in the grand scheme. Plus, I got some actual work done talking to Phil before you got here, so it’s all good.”

“Jason, you best not be trying to steal her from me already,” Tyler claps his shoulder before setting his eyes on you. “You’ve got someone waiting for you at home.”

You can’t help but half roll your eyes and half chuckle, “Nice to officially meet you, Tyler.”

He reaches out, his hand easily dwarfs yours, “You too, Clementine.”

“If you are all ready, we’ve got the table you asked for set,” Phil nods to the right, into the dining room.

“You were mentioning your work when I came in?” Tyler questions as you all sit down.

“I guess you could say I’m a lifestyle writer, mostly food and drink but I’ve dabbled in some travel,” you say. “I started out with my own blog back when I was in college trying to figure out what I wanted to do with life and it kind of got a following from there. I refuse to say influencer, cause no I’m not. Not my schtick. Actual writing pays the bills, not sponsored Instagram or blog posts. I refused to let my baby No Fork become something tainted like that, I think why it became so successful.”

“Wait, wait. You’re A Girl With No Fork? Seriously, my wife is obsessed with your insta page and the blog,” Jason exclaims. “She’s going to lose her ish that I’m having lunch with you.”

“Still blogging but keeping that a little more separate now a days. There’s more bylines with Infatuation, Food and Wine, a good deal with some the local papers. I may have a piece end up with Bon Appetite if this pitch I’m working on comes to fruition,” you explain, taking a sip of what Phil just placed in front of you. “Trying to keep a little of that anonymity left to keep Fork as respected as it is. Your wife and I need to brunch at some point then.”

Phil comes by to ask about any allergies or dietary restrictions, the rest is up to him and the chef, and you know you’re all in good hands.

“So, a pretty girl with a unique name,” Tyler leads. “Feels like there’s probably a good story there.”

“I was a surprisingly early baby, literally my Mom went into labor at 35 weeks and in an orange grove. That was her craving when she was pregnant with me, a ton of citrus. Hence the name,” you smile. “It’s rare I hear anyone other than her use my full name anymore. Even my pen name for my byline on pieces uses my initials. Friends mostly call me C or Em.”

“No Emmy?” Tyler questions.

You shake your head, cheeks flushing. You’ve never allowed that by anyone; not that anyone has ever tried that out for size. It always felt to too special to you, wanting to hold on to that for the right person.

“Let me see these puppies that made you late,” you divert.

“Once you get him started on the three stooges, you cannot go back,” Jason rolls his eyes. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you smile, making grabby hands for his phone. “Come on I know you’ve got a ton of photos and videos on there.”

“They’re definitely a handful, and not so much puppies anymore. Though Gerry would fight me on that, he’s the baby,” Tyler grins wide before pulling up a video of three dogs running around like crazy in what looks to be his backyard pool.

Lunch was more of the same, good food, good conversation and a bunch of joking around. Smart play by Jason to recommend it this way, he’s as much of a sweetheart as his texts made him out to be and helps ease some of the worries you had about Tyler. And Tyler, you found yourself gravitating to him a lot more than you thought you would. You all didn’t realize it until the shift change was happening how long you actually spent in the back booth. As you’re saying goodbye, hugs are passed around between the group of you this time.

“We’re keeping you around by the way,” Tyler whispers in your ear. “Welcome to the crew.”

You fall into a quirky but easy friendship with Tyler and Jason after that, eventually Jamie too once the boys drag him to one of your tasting outings. It evolves quickly from random texting to grabbing meals and drinks, hanging out after games, even meeting Tyler at the dog park to finally meet his trio of crazy pups during one of your crazy timed breaks in your schedule that matched up before he needed to get into his pre-game routine.

Gerry is running amok hopping around with a German Sheppard while Cash just wants Tyler to throw a stick for him to fetch repeatedly. Marshall, however, has taken residence with his head in your lap.

“I know your younger brothers are insane,” you coo, rubbing the chocolate lab’s ear as he nuzzles into your thigh. “I’m sorry I have to leave you with them in a few.”

“So soon?” Tyler asks, tossing Cash’s favorite stick a little father. “You like just got here. He also just doesn’t cuddle like that with anyone. Feel special, so you shouldn’t leave him either.”

“Only a quick break today. Deadlines looming and a bourbon tasting that need to get done if I’m meeting you guys later after the game,” you explain, fingers digging into Marshall’s fur again.

“At some point you do need to come to a game,” he sasses as Cash comes barreling into his legs, Gerry not far behind. “I know you’re a hockey fan, you can’t hide that Em.”

“Perhaps maybe,” you tease, rolling your eyes sticking your tongue out at him. “Ok Marsh, I’m sorry buddy but I gotta go.”

Marshall just slides his head further into your lap, while now Cash head butts your free hand as Gerry crashes into your legs.

“I’m so sorry boys, we’ll have another playdate soon I promise,” you call to them as you pet all their heads.

“Where’s my goodbye pets and love?” he cheekily leans his head towards you.

“Oh Ty,” rolling your eyes as you get up.

You lean in as you were going to kiss his cheek, but you just tweak his nose and flip his snapback off, “See you tonight superstar.”

Misty is thankfully behind the bar again tonight at Oak and Cork, except this time you’re in the middle of the crazy group instead of the far end of the bar.

“You hitting that yet?” Alex grins wiggling his eyebrows and nodding to where you’re leaning against the bar talking to Misty while she makes your drink.

Tyler shoves his teammate, “Dude.”

“First off, don’t be crass. Em is in the damn room. And that’s a no by the way,” Jason rolls his eyes at Alex after handing off glasses to the two of them. “He most definitely wants to; I think that she does too. They just won’t actually talk about it.”

“She sent you reckless slut shots, I think you can talk to her about fucking,” Alex replies, taking a pull from his drink.

“Emmy. She’s not just some random girl to dick and dump, Rads. Fucks sake,” he sighs, hand threading through his hair as he looks over in your direction where you’re talking with Jamie, Joe and his wife.

“Emmy, eh? That speaks volumes. Just ask her already,” Jason interjects. “We’re all tired of your crank ass. I’m going to find my better half.”

“He’s right,” Alex taps his glass against Tyler’s. “Go to her. Ask her. Kiss her. Less cranky, more goals, more fucking.”

Tyler shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink in one go. He snags a bottle of beer from one of the buckets left out on the bar for the group before he looks for somewhere to take a breather. You catch him stalking off to the patio, amber glass clenched in his hand with his brows knitted together.

“He ok?” you ask Jamie, pointing towards the door where Tyler’s walking through.

“That’s not a good Tyler face,” he sighs. “I should…”

“No, stay. I’ll go check,” you interrupt, polishing off your martini to head outside.

“Hard to have congratulatory drinks when the first star of the game is hiding out on the patio,” you call out.

He shrugs, not turning around at first but you can see the tension across his shoulders even through his dress shirt. You take a couple steps out towards him.

“Hey, come on. Can’t be that bad. Right? Nothing’s wrong with the pups? Your family?” you tread carefully not knowing what could have happened between the dog park and that moment.

He turns around slowly, not looking up at first.

“Tyler, what’s going on?” your concern lacing through your voice clearly.

“I still think about that night here, you know?” he starts, placing his bottle on the railing next to him before leaning back against it. “I was intrigued, girl at a bar alone on a Friday night. Gorgeous one at that. She kind of saw right through me but dished it back unexpectedly and pretty well. Then, then that damn chaperoned lunch. Kind of just rolled from there.”

“Ty, what are you saying?” you need to make sure where he’s going with this.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, it’s exhilarating and unnerving,” he fights out, coming off the railing. “I still think about kissing you, wanting that, all the damn time.”

“Tyler,” you begin, trying to move closer.

“Take another step and I can’t be held responsible for my actions,” Tyler fights out, hands flexing at his side but looking you straight in the eye.

You can see the clench of his jaw clearly from there, the fire he’s holding back in his eyes. Your breath catches, your heart skips and your stomach flips.

“What if I’m ok with that?” you whisper, slipping an inch closer.

“I need you to be sure, Clementine,” he looks at you carefully, pupils flicking wider.

“Clementine? Really Tyler?” you try to tease to lighten the thick air around the two of you.

“Emmy,” he exhales deeply. “Don’t. Please, not tonight. Not now.”

You nod once he opens his eyes, stepping closer.

“Use your words, Emmy,” he murmurs, one hand grasping your hip while the other comes to cup your cheek, thumb trailing across your skin. “I need to hear you say it, babygirl.”

You’re distracted for a moment, having him that close. His words swirl around your head, your senses are slightly overwhelmed by him. His cologne lingers in your nose and makes your eyes flutter.

“You don’t need to placate me though, I’m a big boy,” he says softly. “Friends is better than nothing.”

“I wouldn’t,” you jump in carefully. “It’s why I waited, why I’m saying yes now to you Ty.”

Tyler pulls you forward and claims your mouth. His tongue wicked, swiping at yours. Your hands slip up behind his neck with fingers tangling in his hair at the nape. You lose sense of time, all you can do is sink further into the kiss, and into him, until you’re out of breath.

“You taste like those damn orange martinis you love. I like it,” he sighs, knuckle trailing against your cheek. “I’ve never felt possessive, but fuck. The thought of anyone else sipping your sugar after that makes me see red, Emmy.”

“Is that the ass backwards Tyler way of asking me out?” you tease, popping up on your toes to nip at his bottom lip.

He surges forward and knocks the breath out of you with another bruising kiss.

“Come to my game tomorrow, wear my jersey. Let me show you off properly, let me take you home after, breakfast with the dogs on the patio in the morning,” he asks, this time his thumb tracing over your bottom lip. “And the game after that and the next one after that, the next weeks and months ahead. Let me show you that I’m not that reckless slut you may think I am. You make me not want to be.”

You smile, nodding and pressing a kiss to the pad of his thumb.

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin writing #tyler seguin fluff #nhl fic #nhl fluff #hockey fic #hockey imagine #juliaswinterwriting

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m-y-fandoms · 4 years

Text

Vampire Nagito Komaeda x Ultimate Monster Hunter reader - Part 2 (Supernatural AU)

Part 1

WARNINGS: Blood Drinking, Vampire Bites

Please excuse any grammar mistakes. I think I got most but I edited this at 5 A.M. ... I will go back over it and scan for errors soon.

- Admin Kokichi

Hours passed since your unfortunate encounter, and your heart and mind had finally shaken off the creeps. After finishing your little self-guided tour of campus, you headed to the Main Course dorms to find your room. Your luggage was arranged to come later that evening, but you wanted to see the dorms for yourself now with little else to do.

Once you shut the door, the warmth of the sunlight gave way to a wave of the best air conditioning money could buy. The place looked very clean and tidy, with nothing out of place save for a few displaced balls and plastic cups atop a pool table and what appeared to be forgotten lecture notes on a shelf above a central fireplace. This must be the common area, a lounge for the most deserving students in the world!

Behind the fireplace on either side were two sets of pretentious-looking stairs that led up to what you assumed were the actual dorm rooms. You searched your pocket for your student key card. You flipped it around over and over again in your hand, searching.

“What?” You weren’t going crazy, were you? Neither floor nor room number were indicated on your card. You pulled your phone out, quickly sifting through emails and texts. Nope. Nowhere, at any point, had the housing department told you exactly what room was yours. Way to drop the ball, Kirigiri… you sighed, finding this situation both a bit humorous and exasperating considering the status of the school.

Well, you were a last minute transfer. There were bound to be slip-ups.

Sighing, you resigned to sit, relax for a few minutes, then call the housing department, or simply walk over to the main office building if it was still open.

"Maybe I'll just..." you decided you'd earned the two minute break and walked leisurely over to one of the beige leather seats. Sitting, you set your chin into your hand propped up by your elbow on the arm of the chair, and began to think of how much you missed your tools. School regulations didn’t allow poisons, crossbows, guns and silver bullets inside the dorms... for obvious reasons. Even students of the blade or other offensive disciplines had to keep all sharp and lethal objects in their practice rooms and out of the dorms (not that all of them followed these rules). Students were allowed to customize and adjust their uniforms according to their talent, but you couldn’t even do that, what with all of the tools of your trade being lethal or unexplainable to the ignorant masses.

It felt weird, not having a wooden stake strapped to your ankle, not having wolfsbane hidden away in a compartment on your belt. You felt out of place, without knives and rune-inlaid whips hidden on your person... uncomfortable. This school really wasn’t for you.

"Ah, it’s you!" A voice came from behind.

"Huh?" You gasped, flying up from your seat, thoroughly startled. Your knee banged off of the coffee table in front of it, leaving you feeling like an absolute buffoon. Your hand instantly flew to your leg, and you hissed softly in pain.

“Whoops! Didn’t mean to startle you, sorry!”

Your eyes followed the voice all the way up the stairs to its owner. Nagito was scrambling down the stairs toward you apologetically, feeling responsible for your blunder. He reached his hands out as of to offer you his aid, but froze upon seeing you take a step backward. He stopped directly in front of you, clearing his throat before continuing.

“What are you doing here? You don’t have to start classes yet?” You stared into his eyes, and a tremble ran up your spine. The greenish-grey, glistening spheres appeared icy and far away. “Well?" When you didn't respond, he spoke up again.

"I uh... um..."

"You have a way with words, I see, just like when we met earlier today." He teased, laughing warmly. He had one of those genuine smiles, where the eyes exude friendliness just as much as the mouth, and their misty shine entranced you deeply. He laughed again, a bit awkwardly as you merely gawked at him. A light blush formed on his cheeks and he swept some of his cloud-like hair away from his forehead. He held the eye contact, though, searching your mind for something, anything to tell him more about you. You felt a stinging begin, like a migraine forming in the depths of your brain.

You shook your head roughly, tearing your eyes away from his gaze. How could you have fallen for that one?

Vampires could very easily compel the mortal mind, put one in a mind-hazing trance with direct eye contact alone. Being the offspring of one of the best hunters ever born, you were trained to notice when the bloodsuckers made their attempts to ensnare your mind or read it like a book. That headache was your warning sign, the last defense of a disciplined mind, but it shouldn’t have even of gotten that far.

You were slipping… why did this vampire feel… different?

More importantly, you forced your mind to change the subject, how long had he been trancing other students? Was he doing this on purpose? Some vampires simply forgot their own strengths at times. Did Kirigiri know? Is this dangerous creature simply going around unchecked... doing whatever the hell he likes?!

He coughed, his eyebrows furrowing with a sudden seriousness. He’d been searching your mind, looking around desperately for a clue, a story, a hint, and just as soon as he thought he’d found an interesting page to start reading, the book was snapped close in front of him. He was pushed out in an effort that seemed practiced, skillful. You saw the discontent lining his features, and decided you needed you stop this. You two needed to be on the same page, before he tried anything else on you; something stupid, or more bold. You couldn’t keep up this charade any longer. You had a feeling he was feeling the same way.

"Stop that.” You spoke sternly, concisely, confidently. He needed to know not to try that shit again, that you would not simply be prey like others, not mentally nor physically. His mouth formed a smirk, one of relief and something like acknowledging the other player in a game.

“Ahh~ so I see that I was correct after all. Are we done playing pretend now? Awww, I was actually having a lot of fun! It was quite stimulating, actually.” He frowned, pouting like a child called home at dusk after playing outside all day.

“I’m afraid so. Sorry to disappoint you,” you crossed your arms over your chest defiantly,” and I don’t appreciate my mind being picked and prodded at. That’s extremely disrespectful, you know? That’s none of your business. If you’re doing that to people on the regular around campus, I will inform the headmaster.” You held a finger out, poking his chest firmly and with aplomb, and he only smiled in response, finding this attempt to intimidate him rather adorable. He held in a giggle behind his hand, not wanting to anger you. “Am I amusing to you?” You threw him a cross look, and he held his hands up in surrender.

“No, of course not! I was just thinking, well... how do you know? About me, I mean?”

You face went blank. You weren’t expecting this question, though you probably should have been. There was no possible way to answer this honestly. What were you supposed to say? The headmaster forbade you from telling anyone of your true talent. Disregarding that point, what would this vampire do to you once he found out you were one of those sworn to kill his kind? You didn’t have any means of defending yourself at present. You couldn’t outrun him, or fight back with raw strength. He couldn’t do anything right? He wouldn’t… if he were that brash, there’s no way Kirigiri would’ve let him enroll here in the first place. He has to be on excellent behavior to attend Hope’s Peak, right?

You blinked once, twice. He was waiting for a response, staring patiently. You needed a response, and quickly.

“W-what are you doing here?” Nice. Perfect.

“Huh?” His head tilted, taken aback by the curveball you threw his way.

“W-well you asked what I’m doing here, and you’re right, if I were starting classes today, I would be in one right now. We have the same core classes outside of the individualized training of our talent specialization. I saw the class rosters and schedules! I know you should be in class right now as well!” You were getting louder with every word, feeling very cornered and vulnerable at the moment. If you had just even one weapon on you… just one…

“Well, uh…” now you had him. You smirked, feeling pretty clever at the moment. “I forgot my books... just my luck haha,” he countered, “So I came back to my room to get them!”

“Then where are they?” And sure enough, he had nothing on him but the clothes on his back.

“Hmm… well I came through the second floor entrance,” he gestured over his back “...and I was about to head to my room but I got uhhh… distracted I guess you could say. I really am hopeless.” There was that big, dumb, goofy grin again. Your mind took a second, but then it clicked.

“...You smelled me…” you spoke slowly, cautiously.

“Uh… I guess yeah. You could say that. Well that’s exactly what happened, really. I suppose I am glad we ended our little farce! Would’ve been hard to explain that one...” his index finger reached up, scratching at the side of his mouth pensively.

“You really are a creep!”

“Yeah, I’m the worst, I know...” Why was he smiling while saying this? “I’m sorry, again. Usually, it’s not like this. Of course I admire our talented peers and am drawn to them as they are pinnacles of hope and the building blocks of the future, but...” he pantomimed through the air grandly, “ I am very conditioned to the human scent. It doesn’t usually alert me nowadays. I dunno… guess the... tantalizing smell of a particularly interesting human was enough to… stir me.” He smirked almost tauntingly. Your eyes widened, but narrowed again immediately. You would not show him weakness.

“Stop that.” You scowled.

“Apologies, (Y/N). Just speaking my mind. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m just sort of a disgusting waste of space.” Your scowl melted into a sort of sympathetic frown despite yourself. Did he really mean that? Why would he say that about himself? Vampires were usually more vain on the spectrum of supernatural beings. “I just hold Main Course students in really high esteem, and you’re no exception... actually, far from it. Ever since I met you this morning, you’ve been on my mind more then most mortals… strange...” he seemed lost in his own little world. What? What the hell was going on in his crazy little head? The silence caught his attention, and he seemed to remember you were there as well, looking into your eyes again. He caught himself, making sure to not to make such direct eye contact with you. When he was in these weird moods, he never could quite control his more passive abilities and instincts. “Anyway... yeah, it’s unfortunate that I’m going to be missing part of class now… not that I don’t enjoy the pleasant surprise! I knew there was something special about you right off the bat!" Would he still think that after he knew your true calling? You looked to your right, thankful for the large staircase to escape to. He was giving you unsettling vibes once again.

Supernatural beings were known to imprint easily on mortals. Some saw them as beautiful, perplexing, ethereal in their impermanence. Some killed and ate them just because devouring humans, or torturing them until the panicked aura of their tiny, weak souls radiated around the room and feeling that temporary fragility, that adrenaline, was the only way they themselves could feel human. This urge to feel close to humanity was only doubled, dangerously so, in supernaturals who were once human themselves. It was an insatiable need to return to that normalcy, that frailty.

Swiftly, you scampered over to the bottom step to put some distance between you and the increasingly imposing immortal before you.

"Ah, I see. Well, anyway, thanks I suppose. I uh..." you grinned clumsily. “I was just looking for my room, albeit unsuccessfully. You can go ahead and get your books now! I don’t want to hold you up any longer!”

"I can help! It’s no big deal. The way they get students moved in here can sometimes be confusing. Actually, they put your room number on the student portal, not your card or paperwork, heh! And they don’t even tell you, leave you to find out yourself!” He pulled a large, black rectangle from his pocket, crossing the distance to wave it in front of you like a treat.

What the...? You patted down your shirt and bottoms alike.

“Is that my phone? How the hell-?!”

“Ah, yeah, sorry about that! I swiped it from you when I first came downstairs! I thought it’d help me get to know you better, had you not been willing to divulge the knowledge you have of my kind’s existence.” Once again he was calm, cool and casual whilst in the midst of saying such unusual words. What was this guy’s deal? “Here, you can have it back!”

“Yeah, I should hope so!” You reached out to snatch your phone from his hand, and it was like time froze.

The moment your fingertips touched his own in the exchange, your indignant eyes met his, and saw something feral flicker in them. The phone switched hands, and a spark of sorts traveled through your skin and into his. As you pulled back, his hand shot out, taking a tight grip around your wrist.

Your cheeks warmed up, at once flustered when the atmosphere changed drastically. Your eyes dilated in panic and his lips moved forward, resting upon your hand. He seemed to tense up, a rigidness taking up his entire body. His closed eyes opened wide to match your own and he inhaled deeply of the skin of your knuckles. You pulled away quickly, spooked.

"S-something wrong? Why are you so weird? I’ve never met any of your kind quite like you." You rubbed your hand curiously.

“So, you’ve met others?” It was clear he was trying to hold back something deep inside of him that begged to crawl out, his eye twitching slightly.

“Answer my question.”

"No, of course not... you just smell... nice, as I said before." He looked away from you, hand extending to guide you upstairs and in the right direction, but your brain was telling you not to go anywhere with him in tow.

“I- I can find my way myself, but thanks!” You began logging into the Hope’s Peak student portal through your phone’s browser, and quickly looking through your profile to find your room code and number.

“I insist!” He followed you up the stairs, trailing after your scent like a starved hound. Why couldn't he just get lost? Your thoughts raced anxiously. If you’d had your equipment on you, he would’ve been long dead. He was exhausting, and he didn't feel… safe. “Found it?” he inquired over your shoulder. As you reached the top of the steps, you began to feel your blood boil, but you knew not the true cause of this involuntary reaction.

Your last little exchange left you feeling foolish and naive. How could you have let a vampire get that close? Why would you let him indulge in the scent of you knowing how easy it was for them to take advantage of humans? You were royally pissed off, and looking for a way to expel that rage, to hurt someone or something the way you were hurting inside.

“I know you’re a vampire because I kill them. My whole family does. It’s essential to be able to identify one in my line of work. I’d be a pretty shitty hunter if I couldn’t do even that, and you aren’t exactly good at hiding it.” You found your door, swiping your keycard into the extremely sleek, high-tech lock system, and forcing it open a bit too harshly. The frustration you tried to hide in your voice was evident in your actions. Nagito halted, stilled stiff by your suddenly bitter words.

“Ah,” he cleared his throat, also hiding emotions of his own, “The Ultimate Hunter... it makes sense now.” He recalled seeing your title along with your name on his own school portal. How did he miss that one?

“Yeah, so maybe you should get lost.” Heartlessly, you began to close the door on him, now fully inside the spacey room that was bare save for a luxurious bed and some basic, modern furniture. “Hn?” A soft gasp left your throat when a polished shoe wedged itself inside the door, stopping you. You looked up, your body filling the crack in the door, and met Nagito’s eyes. There was that far away look again. His eyes were cloudy, tameless, wild.

“Why must you be so harsh?” His eyes bore into your own now, all inflection and kindness gone from his tone. “I understand you must hate my kind, and now I can appreciate why you reacted so aversely to my voice, my touch, my presence before, but have I done anything to harm you?” You were beginning to get scared now, reaching instinctively for your belt and finding it absent from your pristine uniform.

“I think you should leave. We obviously aren’t meant to be acquaintances.” You refused to let your voice shake. This might be a turning point, a critical moment. Vampires were never so dangerous as when they knew their prey was afraid.

“It’s your turn to answer me, now~” Nagito forced himself in the doorway nonchalantly, approaching your slowly retreating form into the middle of your room. You backed away, with him meeting every step.

“If you must know, you have offended me, yes. Trying to read my mind-”

“An accident.”

“Stealing my phone-”

“A precaution.”

“Smelling my blood like a pervert, twice!” He smirked.

“A natural, harmless instinct.”

“Even so...” Your eyes were on his own, obviously not focused on his body, and he took this opportunity to reach down, grasping lightly at your hand once again.

“Even so, what? Those are all petty misunderstandings. Ahhh~” his cold, pointed nose skimmed across the back of your hand once again as he brought it to his face. This time, when you tried to pull away, he held fast, and warning signals flashed in your mind. “Just as I thought! Your scent appeals to me so because you are a shining beacon of hope! I see it now! It’s all coming to me! You protect the world from those of my kind who would seek to destroy it! How wonderful!” His cheek bumped across your knuckles, and you failed once again to pull away.

“N-Nagito. Stop. This is.... you must consider context. If we weren’t in school right now, if we were just on the street meeting like this-”

“You wouldn’t do anything~ because I’m allied and protected~” He sung, his eyes twitching again, lids fluttering softly. Your heart dropped into your stomach. He was right.

You were trying to resist, but he was making it so damn hard. It shouldn’t be this hard. You found supernatural beings repulsive. Your father did as well. And his father did! They weren’t trustworthy. Their words were always the lies of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. They could charm and glamour weaker mortals with ease and enjoyed it! And you certainly were not a weaker mortal! You found joy in killing them... didn’t you?

“What you’re doing now is-”

“It’s strange, hah~ so strange~ I haven’t felt this inspired, this jittery about a mortal in such a long time... haha~ this excitement! I knew it! I knew you were special! You’re the true hope I’ve been looking for! The Ultimate of all Ultimates that will guide our classmates into their roles as the protectors and leaders that will inherit this earth!” He was manic now, inhaling deeply, raggedly onto your skin. One hand crushed your wrist into his own chest, the other held your hand so that it stayed splayed out flat for his access. There was something primal in his eyes. He was quickly becoming unstable. It was a perilous state so common to his kind, but yet it felt still so incredibly unique to Nagito himself, like it was not his immortality but his own character that caused this sudden shift in behavior.

“Nagito! You sound like a lunatic! Let go, you’re hurting me!” Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. You were strong, usually able to ignore some measure of physical pain, but the way his fingers dug into your wrist coupled with the consternation you felt at the situation set your nerves aflame. Once again you reached instinctively for a weapon or poison you did not have.

“Am I? I’m sorry. It’s just... I wonder...” You didn’t like where this was going at all. His chest shook with arousal , a bit of drool dripping from the fangs now on display in his mouth, which hung open in his state of reverie. “I wonder what this this hope tastes like... this pure, concentrated source of unbridled hope!” His voice shook, and you pushed at his chest with your free hand. He didn’t budge an inch. It was like he didn’t even notice your actions. “I know I’m unworthy, that a piece of trash like me doesn’t deserve to taste you... but I feel like now that I’m this close, haha~ I can’t stop myself! Truly, truly it’s a grand misfortune that a talentless, meaningless, soulless abomination like myself even dares to take part in such a feast! But...�� He lowered his lips to your wrist.

“Nagito, stop! You can’t do this!” You began to kick and struggle, to scratch and tear at his clothes, to claw at any exposed skin, leaving marks across his cheek and arms. “If you do this, you’ll lose your protection!” His top lip pulled back, something like a snarl emanating from his throat. Clearly that approach wouldn’t work. “You’ll be expelled!” You tried the next deterrent on your mind. Wow, you must’ve been the worst Super High-School Level Monster Hunter in history. Day 1: fooled into a vampire’s clutches. His inhumanely sharp canines grazed the skin of your wrist, feeling your pulse race beneath the surface. He was entranced; there was no stopping this now. A human, without weapons, without enchantments or defenses, without repellants, bombs, herbs, poisons, silver, or means of healing, was no match for a supernatural being. “Please! Please, you- don’t do this!” a last effort. Why did you even try? These savages never sympathized with begging and pleading. They were killers. You were an imbecile to let your guard down around Komaeda for even a second.

His fangs sunk deeply into your skin, piercing a vein. You yelped out in pain, pulling at his hair and tugging your wrist back, which only nestled his fangs in deeper. You whimpered, little rivulets of your vital fluid running out of his mouth and down to your elbow. He was moaning in delirium, enraptured in the sensation of your blood running down his throat. You wanted to yell, to scream for help, but something inside you was hesitant and holding you back. Something inside you didn’t want anyone to find out about this, to find you two like this.

“Mmmh~” Nagito’s tongue swirled around the puncture wounds, his lips latched on like a leech. He drank freely, deeply, seemingly careless of how much blood he was taking. It’d been a long time since he’d felt the exhilaration of feeding from true prey. These days they had him on willing donors and blood bags. Nothing compared to the flavor of adrenaline and fear in the bloodstream, no matter how much he hated himself for indulging in it.

“Naaagi-t-” You stumbled backwards a step, wishing so desperately that you weren’t such an obedient student, that you’d deemed it justified to slip a stake, a knife, anything under your shirt. Your punches, your willful attacks on his abdomen, and the kicks to his knees began to slow down. They were losing the fight behind them, and yet, you would not give up. “St-tt-oo-” He continued to slurp and suck at your wrist, taking no note of the way you slowly were slipping to your knees.

The corners of your vision began to cloud and darken. Your head was ringing, much like a time you’d been left concussed after one of your first hunts. This might as well have been one of your first encounters with the supernatural world, with how badly you’d blundered every step.

Now on your knees, your head hanging limply down into your chest with your arm raised and pulled taut, trailing up to the vampire’s mouth, you felt yourself slipping. Finally, your vision began to fade for the last time, and you fell unconscious. The last thing your mind registered was the sound of Nagito sighing blissfully as he finally detached from your flesh, followed by the sound of frenzied laughter.

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melancholic-pigeon · 3 years

Text

Too Short For Ao3 Fic #3? 4?

SO this is the extended edition of the bonus wip I did with Sally's birthday. The overall fic it belongs to is Extremely Smutty, so I went in and revised out the brief references and I'm posting the family-centric g-rated stuff for anyone who wants that but not the smut! Cough.

Also, I felt bad about missing WIP Wednesday again. Lolsob.

Percy rouses at around eleven PM to a sketch of himself on Jason's pillow. There's a note on the other side.

I wanted to wake you up to say goodbye, but you looked so comfy I didn't have the heart to. your mom's presents are in the bag by my desk. say hi to everyone for me. I'll call tomorrow anyway.

love you to the moon and back.

-J. ❤

Complete with a little red heart. He doesn't even care that the doodle of him next to it, burritoed in a pile of blankets, includes a little spot of drool— he can tell by the rest of his cartoony, ballpoint features that Jason put it in because he thinks it's cute.

(And by the fact that he's said so, several times.)

Percy gathers up his junk. The cornflower blue sweatshirt he steals goes halfway down his fingers. He's come to accept that at six foot three and counting, Jason is the taller of them and always will be— barring some sort of horrible wood-chipper accident or curse from a grumpy deity.

Fortunately, there's something about looking up to meet someone's eyes that Percy finds incredibly attractive. He has since Annabeth outgrew him for the first time in eighth grade.

He heads out in his own jeans and the boxers he packed and the sweatshirt that smells like cinnamon. Once he boards the train, he stands with his arm around a pole and the other holding the bag against his chest, and tries to stay casual and keep the grin off his face.

It's almost midnight when he gets home. His mom, of course, is still awake, so he heads into the living room to greet her.

"My other half says hello."

There's a pile of presents on the coffee table. He puts the bag with the rest of them and sits down, kissing her cheek.

"He didn't have to get me anything." She closes her book and eyes the bag with a fond sigh. "How is he?"

Percy's the same way she is, always happy to do favors and give gifts, but feeling pretty awkward about receiving them. Jason's even worse, the three of them in an ongoing and circular competition to never let any of it go reciprocated.

"Working too hard, as always. Pulling As and winning games and barely sleeping to do it. His stepmother's up his ass and his father's a bully, so, you know, news at eleven." He leans his head onto her shoulder. "That's why he gives you stuff. He's trying to show you how much he appreciates you."

She sighs, and Percy knows it's because she's just as frustrated by the whole thing as he is.

"He knows I appreciate him too, I hope."

"Without a doubt." Percy smiles at her, watching as she goes a little pink and smiles back. "You have a talent for making him feel appreciated."

"He treats my baby like a prince," she says softly. "That's why I appreciate him so much in the first place. How could I do anything else?"

Percy turns his face into her shirt collar, another futile attempt to hide his goofy expression,

"He really does, doesn't he?"

Holding doors, pulling out chairs, offering an arm on unsteady streets. Jason's never laid his coat over a puddle, but Percy's pretty sure he would, if the option presented itself.

His mom starts playing with his hair, her fingers light and familiar.

"I'm just happy you're happy, sweetheart."

He knows that feeling too.

Half asleep from the petting, Percy lets himself be a little babyish. It's after midnight now, which means it's her birthday, and he knows that sometimes she misses when he was Estelle's age and little enough to curl up in her lap. He's way too big for that now, obviously, but he can still slide down the couch and rest his head there.

"You too, Mama."

She looks at him, her eyes misty with emotion and almost green in the light.

She's smiling, too.

She smiles a lot, these days.

—

In the morning, Paul makes coffee while Estelle helps unwrap the avalanche of presents. She's at the age where ripping paper makes her squeal with hysterical laughter, which worms its way into Percy's heart and melts it into pudding.

Several of them are from Percy's friends, including a handbound book of original recipes from Leo, a lovely silver bracelet inset with mother-of-pearl that Beckendorf made himself, and a huge sheathed knife with a matching decorative handle from Clarisse. The last one makes his mom snort as she gets up to put it on the bookshelf, out of reach of curious toddler hands.

"Decorative. Sure."

"I bet she'd teach you how to use it if you asked."

"I know how to use a bowie knife, dear. Your father and I used to catch and cook our own fish when we went camping."

"Which reminds me, he still hasn't taken me out," Paul cuts in, frowning. "I've been saving up dad jokes and embarrassing stories for four years."

"I'll bug him about it the next time we talk," Percy promises. "It's probably the ADHD."

"Do you want me to bug you about bugging him?"

"If you haven't set something up by blueback season, yeah."

Percy and Paul went in on a pound of jasmine tea, which his mom reaches for next. She immediately asks for a cup— it's one of two days out of the entire year where she lets other people wait on her, for a change, and even that took a lot of cajoling.

Paul makes the tea, since Percy usually scalds the leaves and it turns out tasting like grass. She probably wouldn't complain anyway, but it's her birthday, and she deserves to have the best tea that can be made in their kitchen.

"Is the last bag from Jason?" Paul sets the mug on a coaster in the middle of the coffee table, and Percy scoops the baby into his lap so she doesn't try to grab it. She mashes her tiny hand against his cheek.

"And Thalia. I'm not sure if they went in on stuff or he just packed them both in one bag to make it easy."

Either is a possibility. He watches as his mom reaches in and pulls out a large wrapped frame, Thalia's spiky handwriting answering the question.

Whatever's inside, it makes her shut her eyes and exhale deeply through her nose.

"Please pass on that I am absolutely furious."

She turns the frame around. An autographed vinyl EP of Sign O' the Times by Prince— one of the albums Percy grew up on, though she skipped a number of the songs when he was little. Thalia must have spent a fortune on it.

"That woman is incredible," Paul breathes, lightly touching the glass. "How does she get this stuff?"

"See!"

"She has friends in high places." Percy grins as Estelle reaches for the album, and holds her over the glass so she can touch it too. "She's also really good at barter chains."

His mother shakes her head, but he can tell how delighted she is— the two of them have spent hours animatedly talking about music, Thalia hanging on every word and groaning with jealousy over the concerts his mom went to in the eighties.

"I know exactly where I'm going to put it."

Thalia got her a turntable for her fortieth birthday last year, as well as a full set of replacements for every worn-out record in their collection— and had the originals framed too, since they had sentimental value. They're currently occupying the better part of two walls of his mom's study.

There's a blank spot by her bookshelf, right underneath the first copy, that the autographed album will fit into perfectly. Percy grins.

"I'll hang it up for you later."

She doesn't argue. There's only Jason's left, his careful print written out across the same paper Thalia used. The crinkling draws Estelle's attention, and she gleefully reaches over to help tear it off.

Their mom gasps at what's inside and puts a hand to her mouth, her eyes going bright.

It's a watercolor portrait of Percy and Estelle, laughing by the shoreline. She's dressed in a little bucket hat, a ruffled swimsuit patterned to look like a clownfish and the coolest shades in the world— sparkly blue frames shaped like seashells that he kind of wishes he could get in his size. He's in a wetsuit, having spent the morning surfing, and he's holding onto her hands so she can jump at the waves. In the distant background is the Montauk lighthouse.

It's beautifully done, like everything else Jason's ever put to paper, but Percy's never choked up like this over one of them.

"You remember that, Beluga? That was on my birthday, when you came and visited me and Jason at the beach."

"Beach?" she asks, expectant. Paul bursts into laughter, sounding as rough-voiced as Percy feels.

"You're your mother's daughter, sweet pea."

"Beach!" Estelle insists. Percy noses her pudgy cheek.

"It's too cold to swim, baby." His mom's eyes are sparkling, still a little teary. He can see Estelle in the smile on her face. "But we could go for a walk and visit."

"Brunch first." Paul kisses her— Percy averts his eyes, wrinkling his nose at his sister to make her giggle again— and gets up, heading back into the kitchen.

It's a lovely way to spend a late morning. Pale blue araucana eggs courtesy of Grover's new hens, a blueberry coffee cake from Nico by a fantastic hole in the wall in Hell's Kitchen, Paul's signature home fries made with blue potatoes and seasoned to perfection; all of it delicious.

Jason calls while Percy's doing the dishes. After his deep, resonant performance of the happy birthday song, the five of them chat on speakerphone for a little while, though he has to excuse himself pretty quickly to keep banging through his reading.

"Maybe next year," Percy sighs. His mom puts her hand on his hip, then crouches down to help Estelle with her light-up sneakers.

"He's always welcome for a rain check."

"He's always welcome, period," Paul adds. For the second time, Percy gets dangerously close to sniffling.

Montauk is a little far for a day trip, so they head to Brighton Beach instead. Estelle's shrimpy legs get tuckered out more quickly than the grownups' do, so Percy ends up carrying her on his hip, snuggled into his jacket to block the chilly breeze. She points at seagulls, shouting triumphantly every time.

"More bird!"

"That's right. A whole flock of 'em."

They watch for a while as the gulls fight over a discarded pizza crust. Then Percy feels an arm around his back and a head against his shoulder.

"I don't know how I got so lucky," his mother murmurs, barely audible over the rushing of the waves.

Percy's eyes sting.

For most of his life, her birthdays had been spent without fanfare. He was rarely actually there for them anyway, and Gabe complained so much it was easier to just ignore the day and focus on survival instead.

She'd been triaging like that since before she even met his dad, keeping herself afloat when nobody seemed to care if she drowned. It would have been easy to lie down and give up. Percy's pretty sure he would have, in her place.

He turns to hug her with the obligatory proclamation of a Stella Sandwich. He catches Paul's eye over her shoulder, and gets a wide, sentimental grin in response.

"Luck's got nothing to do with it," Percy tells her, leaning his cheek against the top of her head while his sister wriggles with delight between them.

"Listen to our son," Paul adds. "He's very wise, as you raised him to be. This is all on you, honey."

Within moments, she's surrounded by her whole family on all sides, and Percy has another arm around his back, and he's getting a little choked up over it all.

When she first started dating Paul, back when Percy was still in middle school, she'd spent weeks all aflutter. It was the happiest he'd ever seen her at the time. They'd sit outside and work on her car together, and she'd slip into song like a grease-stained fairytale princess without even thinking about it.

Seeing them interact is like cool water on a burn, Paul's devoted kindness soothing a lifetime of sitting back and watching people treat her like dirt. He worships her, just like she deserves and long overdue.

"I love you," she says, tearful and muffled in someone's shoulder. "All of you, more than anything."

"Love Mama," Estelle replies, and that's it— Percy's blubbering.

It'll never undo the damage, but it's about time she got a chance to heal and thrive.

-here in our bed, chapter 7, ~6200 words

#wip wednesday #yes I know don't look at me like that #i wrote this #sally jackson #paul blofis #estelle blofis #family fic #oh lord the cheese

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yelena-bellova · 4 years

Text

Don’t Be Afraid: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader - Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: Where We Go From Here

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n, Rey, Finn and Chewie return to D’Qar and the Resistance determines their next course of action.

Warnings: angst, maybe one curse word, more angst

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: This is a messy chapter but there were so many ends to tie before moving onto TLJ. Grief is also such a weird thing to write about because everyone handles it differently. Hope you like it and as always, excuse the typos.

——————

At some point during the flight home, after crying enough to dehydrate myself, I went numb. My tears stopped, my yelling ceased and I simply sat in the co-pilot’s chair quietly working. We grieved losses all the time in the Resistance, but it was different for me this time. This was my father. There was a part of me that wanted to hop out of hyperspace and fly to some corner of the galaxy where I didn’t have to see anybody. But I remembered my mother, Poe, and all the other people that were counting on us to return. I needed to see them and hold them, I needed to know that I hadn’t lost everyone today. They outweighed my desire to run any day of the week.

Once we had landed safely, Finn was our priority. Chewie carried him off the ship while Rey and I brought up the rear. I’d used my comm to let base know we’d need medical and true to their word, they were waiting as soon as we hit the tarmac. There was a crowd that consisted of pretty much every Resistance member running towards us. The medical team took Finn from Chewie’s arms and I heard them say that they’d found a heartbeat.

“Y/n!” Poe called.

Poe was alive, I had that to cling to at least. I saw him speeding ahead of everyone else, stopping to quickly look over Finn before meeting me,

“What happened? Are you okay?” he asked hurriedly, taking me into his arms. I pressed my face into his flight suit, inhaling his scent as a reminder that he was real.

“Go with Finn, make sure he’s okay.” I replied quietly, he pulled back to ask another question, “Please, for me. I’ll explain what happened later.”

He hesitated before kissing my cheek and running to catch up with the medical team. Someone needed to be with our friend in case he woke up, though that was unlikely to happen this fast. Rey and I watched as Finn was wheeled away, we could do no more for him.

It was then that I began to process what Rey and I had just been through. We’d fought together and almost died together, but then our relationship had consisted of little else so far. We met each other’s watery eyes and pulled the other in for a hug, holding on to each other gratefully. I hoped with everything in me that she wasn’t going to go back to Jakku, that she’d stay and fight with us.

I pulled away to pick through the crowd, scanning for one person. I should’ve known she’d already be there waiting for us. My mother and I locked eyes and my heart felt like it was breaking all over again. It was clear to see she already knew about Dad, it was impossible for her not to have sensed it. I took a few slow steps towards her before running into her arms. We clung to each other tightly as we silently grieved together, there was nothing that seemed right to say. At some point we’d talk about it, but the wound was far too fresh. We were now the last remaining members of the Solo family. That alone was one reason I was glad I had survived, I couldn’t bear the thought of my mother having lost her whole family. She pulled away and took my face in her hands, pressing our foreheads together. I could feel her grief, her heartbreak, every emotion that was flowing through her. I’d made the decision flying back that I had to tell her about my powers. She deserved to know and I couldn’t live with the guilt anymore.

We broke apart and I turned her towards Rey, they had yet to meet but Mom had heard so much about her. Rey looked like a kicked Porg, helpless and scarred by what she’d seen today. I watched Mom give my friend the first motherly embrace she’d had since she was a child. Rey sunk into it easily, but she quickly pulled me by the arm to join them. The three of us stood there for a moment, taking comfort in the fact that we didn’t have to face our struggles alone. I only wished I was shedding tears the same way they were, but I couldn’t find the strength to. All my strength, emotional and physical, had been used in the forest.

——————

I’d never heard the command center so quiet, no one made a noise louder than a deep breath. Chewbacca sat in a corner, a paw to his head letting out a little moan every few minutes. He was hurting just as much as me and my mother were. A couple majors and lieutenants stood around the round table, Snap and Jess nearby as well. Mom stared aimlessly at a chart, I’d come over and put my hand on hers and she’d halfheartedly squeezed it. We needed to mourn together, but we also needed time on our own. Rey sat atop a crate, no doubt trying to wrap her head around the situation she was now in. I sat on the stone seating against one of the cold rock walls, staring at a wall. Poe had entered eventually to report that Finn was stable and the medics said he had a fighting chance. While I was beyond relieved, I couldn’t crack a smile.

Poe kneeled down in front of me, “Sweetheart, what happened out there?”

I met his loving gaze, wanting to tell him everything but knowing that if I did, I’d feel too much at once. It would all come out in a jumble of tears and words. I was opening my mouth to say that when 3PO entered,

“General? Excuse me? General? R2-D2 may contain some much needed good news.” “R2?” I called, turning my head to hear a series of beeps I hadn’t heard in twelve years. I watched the familiar droid, who’d sat collecting dust under a sheet for so long, roll to find me. I dropped to my knees at the sight of him and threw my arms around him, “Buddy, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” I’m happy to see you too, but I’m going to need you to let go so I can show you something.

I released him so he could back up next to me and project a large hologram map in the air. Poe pulled me to my feet and we stood together examining it, the map was practically complete except for one missing piece.

“Wait a minute…” I mumbled just as BB-8 rolled in front of our group to take a look at the map before beeping ecstatically. He turned to Poe,

Give me the drive! Give me the drive! “Yeah, all right, buddy. Hold on.” Poe went to the computer we’d saved the drive in and retrieved it. He inserted it into BB-8, who rolled across from R2 and projected a hologram of the piece of the map. Everyone in the room gasped as Bee inserted his piece into the empty shape, the map was whole.

“The map! It is complete!” 3PO exclaimed, I covered my gaping mouth and immediately turned around to find my mother. She was just as awestruck as I was, I made my way to her and put a hand on her shoulder. I gave a breathy chuckle and we embraced, in the worst circumstances we had found a shred of hope. My uncle was out there and we could go find him now. After breaking from her, I turned to Poe, who was standing behind us, and practically leapt into his arms. Our mission was complete.

Less than an hour later, our group settled around the map table to decide what the next plan of action was.

“We’re going to need a team to go and locate Master Skywalker,” Admiral Statura stated.

“It doesn’t need to be a team,” my mother spoke up, “We can’t afford to spare more people than needed.” “So we send one person to go retrieve him?” Bracca inquired.

“Yes,” Mom answered, “But the right one. I’d go myself but I need to be here in case of an ambush. There’s no saying that the First Order doesn’t know where we are and with what we just did, there is chance of attack.”

“Commander Solo?”

I was zoned out, giving all my focus to the center of the table. It was the mention of my last name that caused me to finally look up, everyone was looking to me expectantly.

“Are you willing to lead the mission to go find Skywalker?” Statura asked.

I looked back down at the table, I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say. I’d fought my mother tooth and nail over the past few years about going and finding Luke. But now that the time had come, I was less enthusiastic about the prospect. I was exhausted, beaten down and drowning in grief. But. war waited for no one and it didn’t care about your losses.

I nodded softly, “I’ll go.”

Mom looked over, her lips pressed in a thin line and her eyes misty, “Y/n…” “No,” I objected, “Someone needs to and I’m the one that begged to go in the first place. It should be me,” I bit down hard on my lip, every part of me screaming to stay put, “I’ll be fine.” “General,” Rey said, “I’ll go.”

“Rey,” I began, watching her expression change from solemn to confidant in a matter of seconds. “Y/n, you’ve been through too much today to turn around and leave again. I want to do this, for you and for the Resistance.” I ran a hand through my hair and addressed the group, “I trust her, Rey was a scavenger on Jakku. She’s a fighter too, a damn good one.”

“Rey, are you sure you’re up to this?” Mom asked.

“More than sure,” Rey nodded, “I want to do my part.”

The most joy I could summon came out as a quirk of the corner of my lips. I was overwhelmingly grateful for my friend’s gesture though, and I would make sure to communicate that.

“Then it’s decided,” Mom announced, “Rey will take the Falcon, Chewbacca and R2 to locate Master Skywalker. The rest of us will remain here and keep watch for an attack. Meeting dismissed.”

Rey was almost immediately whisked away to get a change of clothes and a room assignment. I’d have to talk to her later. Meanwhile, I’d fill my quota of usefulness for the day and was craving the safety of my quarters.

“I’m going to head to my room,” I whispered to Mom, “I’m assuming you’re going to stay here for now?” She took a deep breath, “I have to, someone needs to be steering the ship.”

I nodded somberly, my mother was the strongest person I’d ever known. Even while mourning the love of her life, she was still carrying out her duties. I attempted to do it but Mom succeeded at it, there was no second thought in her mind as to what needed to be done.

“Darling,” she said as I’d begun to move away, taking my hand into hers, “Say the word and I’ll come running.”

Unable to think of the right thing to say, I simply squeezed her hand and hurried out of the command center. The walk to my room was uneventful, most people were still outside or in the mess hall celebrating our victory. Victory? Was it a victory? I suppose to most, it was the biggest victory the Resistance had seen in a long time. Meanwhile I’d just suffered my greatest loss and couldn’t find joy in anything. Yet since returning, three things that should have made me happy had happened. R2 had woken up, we’d located Uncle Luke, and Finn was most likely going to live. But my father was still dead, that was the overshadowing event of the day.

I halfheartedly punched in the code to my room and dragged myself in. Shutting my door, the first thing I did was take off my jacket and unclip the lightsaber that I’d reattached in the Falcon. I tucked it away in a desk drawer, this time out of care and not shame. Dropping the jacket on my chair, I then sank onto the edge of my bed and buried my face in my hands. I felt like I’d aged decades over the past few hours. I shut my eyes and rubbed them, but as soon as I did, I saw everything.

The red blade sliding through Dad’s back.

“No…”

His lifeless body falling down the shaft.

“No…” Kylo’s face as he attacked me.

“No…”

“You’re a worthless orphan who your brother should have left to die.”

“NO!”

I snapped.

I sprang from the bed and began using the Force to extract drawers from my dresser in a frenzy. Tears fell freely once again, streaming down my cheeks like the saddest river. I yelled as I extended my hand to the dresser itself, slamming it to the ground. Next was my desk, I tipped it over but the drawer containing my saber stayed untouched. I let out a loud cry as I raised my hand to my bed, lifting the mattress in the air and making it fly across the room. Once I’d redecorated the room, I was left with the overwhelming emotions swirling inside me. I dropped to my knees and sobbed violently as I replayed my father’s death and my fight with Kylo. I hadn’t heard the sound of the keypad beeping or the door opening and closing over my cries.

“Y/n!” Poe exclaimed, his arms wrapped around me and held me tightly. I blindly felt around for his hands, which quickly grasped mine and squeezed. He made no effort to stop me from crying, he knew that if I was having this strong of a reaction it was justified. But his warm touch and soothing voice, repeatedly speaking my name, quelled my manic state. He opened his legs and adjusted me between them, my back falling against his firm chest. I leaned my head against his, occasionally he’d dip down and press a tender kiss to my shoulder. My tears continued to fall, though switching to a softer steady stream eventually. The room was near silent as he gently rocked us back and forth, the only sound filling the air was my sniffling.

“He’s dead,” I whispered, “My dad’s dead.” Poe let out a heavy sigh, “I thought he might be, I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” “I watched him die, Poe,” I trembled, “I watched Kylo Ren kill him.”

Poe stopped rocking and turned his head to look at me, “What?” I nodded, more tears escaping my eyes.

“Oh, Y/n…” Poe said lowly, “I can’t believe you had to see that.”

“I had to fight him too.” “You fought him?” “I didn’t have much of a choice.” He dropped his forehead to my shoulder, shuddering as he probably conjured up a visual of me battling Ren. I squeezed his hand reassuringly,

“I’m here, you didn’t lose me.” “I know,” he insisted, “I just wish you wouldn’t have had to go through all that.”

I sniffled, “Yeah, me too.”

Poe kissed my temple and between the tenderness of the moment and the memories surfacing, I began crying again.

“What can I do for you?” Poe whispered against my hair.

“Just stay with me. Please…” I whimpered before dissolving into another fit of sobs. Poe dropped his head back down to my shoulder and tightened his grip. We rode out the wave of sorrow together and once I’d quieted down, he told me to “stay there for a second” and stood up. I turned and watched him lug my mattress back up into it’s frame. Once it was secure, he came back and lifted me into his arms, carrying me over and laying me down gently. He climbed over to the other side and pulled me into his warm embrace, which I melted into. I settled underneath his chin and wept into his flight suit, Poe’s hand rubbing my back slowly.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “For what?”

“For coming back to me.”

Poe kissed the top of my head, “Always, sweetheart. Always.” ��————

When I woke up, I was still cradled in Poe’s arms. We’d flipped in our sleep and his chest was now pressed to my back, our legs tangled together. He was lightly snoring, getting well deserved rest after what we’d been through. However I’d caught a whiff of myself and practically gagged. I was just as sad as I’d been last night, but I could mourn and be clean at the same time. Poe’s grip was tight but I was able to wriggle out, thank goodness he was a heavy sleeper. I navigated my way around the drawers I’d abused and grabbed a change of clothes. I tiptoed into the refresher and shut the door quietly, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked like a person who’d been dragged through a desert, the snow, a couple fights complete with a wicked case of bedhead. So…not great. I peeled off my clothing, kicked off my boots, and got into the shower. I’d been so spent last night I’d even slept in my shoes. Poe hadn’t changed from his flight suit either so clearly he’d been just as tired.

Alone with no distractions, I thought of Dad again. Though instead of thinking about his last few seconds, I thought of our last interactions. In our last day spent together, we’d had two of our best conversations (we were Solos of course, communication wasn’t our forte) piloted the Falcon together, fought together and the best of them all…I’d reunited him with Mom and enjoyed a few short minutes of having my family together again. I smiled for the first time since yesterday at the memory of being squished between my parents, telling them I loved them. Love. Dad’s last words to me had been telling me how much he loved me, how he wanted to keep me safe. The man was a scoundrel, but damn it if he didn’t fiercely protect his loved ones. I’d known people in the Resistance who’d lost loved ones. Their last interaction with them had been a fight or they’d missed the chance to say ‘I love you’ one last time. I was lucky enough to have had a last day with my father that I would cherish for the rest of my life. Dangerous and crazy as it had been...That was perhaps the only comfort I could take regarding his death.

I changed into a pair of cargo pants and a plain black tank top, understandably forgoing my commanders uniform. I towel dried my hair, brushed my teeth and felt a little better about facing the day. However, I could no longer ignore my stomach growling. The adrenaline that had sustained me since Jakku had long worn off and I realized just how dehydrated and starved I was. I quietly opened the door to reveal a sleepy Poe sitting on the edge of my bed rubbing his eyes. As soon as he registered my presence, he was up and crossing the room to me.

“Hey” he greeted, his voice gravelly, “I was wondering where you went.”

“Couldn’t stand my smell any longer,” I explained with a quiet laugh, intertwining our hands.

“If it helps, I didn’t notice any smell,” he said, smiling down at me.

Silence fell over the room as our eyes met, his deep brown ones carrying the same worry and sadness for me as last night. Poe had many lovable qualities, but the one I admired the most was how deeply he loved the people close to his heart. He cared so profoundly for me it almost broke my heart in the best way. I gently pulled him down to place my lips on his in a sweet morning kiss. Poe’s lips moved against mine carefully, as if he was afraid I’d break with too much pressure. I almost appreciated it, a heated make-out session didn’t feel appropriate with the somber cloud hanging over the room. My thumbs rubbed against the sides of his neck as we broke apart, he pressed a final kiss to my forehead and encircled my hips.

“How are you doing?” he asked cautiously.

I sighed, “I don’t know. I’m still…shattered, but I’m also grateful for the last day I spent with him. I’m definitely not done crying about it but I also have work to do…” “Y/n,” Poe began, his hands sliding up my back, “You can take time off, you deserve it.” “No, no, not Resistance work. Personal stuff.” He raised a concerned eyebrow, “Should I be worried?” I chuckled, “You hitched your cart to a Solo, you should always be worried.”

Poe chortled, “I don’t think truer words have ever been spoken.”

A knock at the door surprised both of us, I padded over and opened it to reveal 3PO. He was carrying a tray with a large plate of food and glass of water,

“Good morning, Mistress Solo. Your mother requested that I bring you breakfast.” “Thanks, 3PO,” I took the tray from his hands, “I appreciate it.” “You are most welcome,” he began to leave but came back, ”Oh, and she has requested a meeting with you in her chamber before Rey and Chewbacca depart.

“Okay, tell her I’ll meet her in a half hour.”

——————

After downing the food and drink 3PO had brought and convincing Poe I was well enough that he could go shower and eat breakfast, I knocked on my mother’s door.

When she opened, she was dressed in a stunning blue dress with her grey hair styled beautifully atop her head. But the redness in her puffy eyes, identical to mine, suggested she hadn’t had a pleasant night or morning. I took her hand immediately as she ushered me in, as soon as the door was shut we embraced. What was it about your mother’s holding you that immediately brought every emotion you were trying to hide to the surface? Quietly, I cried into her shoulder but unlike yesterday, I knew that today we needed to talk. I dried my eyes and walked to her bed, sitting down and resting my arms between my legs. Mom sat down next to me and gracefully folded her hands in her lap,

“I just have one question for the time being.” “Hmm?” “Did you have to watch?” My eyes watered again as I played the long lasting seconds back in my mind, the blade had pierced him so easily. He was defenseless. And of course she’d known who killed him, she’d felt a double dose of pain when it happened. I nodded sadly and buried my face in my hands, elbows balanced on my knees. Mom rubbed my back soothingly, allowing me my moment. After I’d collected myself, I sat up straight and nervously began,

“There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago.”

I stood and began pacing, nervously rubbing my hands and trying to craft the perfect sentence.

“Okay,” I paused my steps. “You might be mad or you could be really worried about me. To be honest, I wouldn’t blame you if you’re both. But please, try to understand why I kept it from you for so long.” “Darling, is this about you having the Force?” “Yes,” I exhaled loudly, “I’m sorry that I hid it from you for…wait, WHAT?”

Mom sighed as she looked at me lovingly, “Sweetie, I’ve known since the minute I met you. You practically radiate it.” I can only imagine how ridiculous I looked with my jaw slack and my brows furrowed deeply,

“W-wait,” I waved my hands, “If you’ve known for this long, why didn’t you just tell me?”

Mom raised her eyebrows and smiled, “Now, I could ask you the same thing.” I tilted my head quickly as if to say ‘fair point’ and crossed my arms, awaiting her explanation.

“Soon after we adopted you, Luke came to visit. As soon as he saw you, his eyes lit up and I could tell he knew. He pulled me aside and told me he hadn’t felt the Force this strong in someone since Ben was born.” I clenched a fist at the name spoken, but kept my focus on her words.

“He told me that when he met you, he had a sudden vision. He didn’t tell me the details of it, even when I pushed him, but he said he couldn’t. All he told me was that it was imperative to your journey that you discover your powers on your own.”

Imperative? Journey? What had Uncle Luke seen in my future? Mom continued, “We told your father, he never knew what to make of Luke’s premonitions but he trusted him. So we waited, waited for you to discover your power and tell us,” she gave a half shrug, “But you never did. Though when you were seven, I began to sense that you were feeling things like fear and shame. Am I right in assuming that’s when it happened?” I bowed my head and nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” “Because,” my head shot up, “Because the first time I used my powers, I used them in anger and it terrified me. I was so afraid of what I was capable of, I didn’t use them again for years.” Mom gave a slight nod, “I can understand that. Well, I can’t tell you how glad it makes me that it’s out in the open. But I sense there’s something more to all of this that I don’t know.” I blew my cheeks out and shook my head, “There’s a lot more. Do you remember the night on Chandrila when I took the Falcon?”

“Vividly.” she retorted, giving me the mom look that made every child feel guilty, no matter their age.

“It wasn’t that I couldn’t sleep,” I went on, “I’d been communicating with…him, through the Force. That night, I sensed he was in danger and he didn’t answer me. I knew something was wrong so I took the Falcon and flew to Yavin 4.” A single tear fell down my cheek as I gathered strength to relay the next portion to her, “It was just as Uncle Luke said. Once I found him, I tried to reason with him but he was too far gone to listen to me. He turned on me and we ended up dueling. I managed to knock him out and was able to escape before he woke up. But not before grabbing this…” I reached into my jacket and unclipped my lightsaber, displaying it for my mother. Her watery eyes widened slightly, but she still maintained her calm composure.

“I can’t explain why I took it, I just felt compelled to. Since then, I’ve been training with it and in my abilities to use the Force. I’m learning trial by error, usually I do it in the forest or in my room. I started carrying this,” I rolled the saber in my palm, “With me a while back, I just felt safer having it on me.”

I set the weapon down on Mom’s desk and placed my hands on my hips. The next chapter of my story made the one I’d just finished telling look like a fucking fairytale…

“Then yesterday happened.” “Y/n, you don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to-“ Mom began.

“We fought again,” my voice wavered, “Rey, Finn and I had just escaped the oscillation station and were racing to the Falcon. He found us somehow and I was furious about Dad and of course,” I chuckled bitterly, “He knew every single button to press, I attacked him and was pretty much ready to kill him.”

My face was wet with teardrops now and I’d turned away from Mom, too ashamed to face her.

“He tried to get me to join him and that was when I woke up and looked at myself. I’d spent so many years worried I’d become him and... there I was, ready to strike him down. I dropped my lightsaber and told him no, I wouldn’t join him. Just like that night at the temple, he tried to kill me. If it hadn’t been for Finn, I wouldn’t be standing here. We ended up fighting again, except Rey stepped in too at one point. The last conversation me and him had was him threatening to kill me and wipe out the Resistance and me admitting that my brother was gone.” I ran a hand through my hair and turned back to my mother, her face was unreadable. She was staring at the wall, I could practically see the gears turning in her head.

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” I whispered, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect Dad, I’m sorry I failed the promise I made you yesterday. I’m sorry I kept all this from you and I’m sorry that you have to live with another family member with the Force.”

Finally, she turned and said, “Why do you think you owe me an apology?” I shrugged and dropped my hands at my side, sniffling loudly as more tears fell.

“Y/n, I’m sorry that you felt you needed to keep this from me. And I am beyond sorry that you had to go through all of this,” she stood and crossed the room to me, “Darling, people like you and I who posses this gift will always admit to having had moments of struggle with their emotions. But that does not make them bad people or too far past help. You’ve done this on your own for so long, honey, it’s time to let go of any shame or guilt you may feel.” Twenty years. I’d hidden this from her for twenty years, I’d been afraid of myself for twenty years. With her last sentence, I felt the chains I’d bound myself in break and I suddenly felt more like myself than ever. I sobbed out of relief and my mother threw her arms around me. We stayed like that for a while, grieving and rejoicing together.

——————

The machines being used to monitor Finn’s levels beeped and hummed steadily. I sat in a chair next to him, watching his chest rise and fall, reminding myself that he’d be okay. He’d risked his life to protect Rey and I, how was I supposed to repay that debt? I guessed that he wouldn’t be leaving the Resistance once he woke up, I’d have plenty of time to think of ways.

A knock on the wall broke me from my thoughts, I looked up to see Rey. She was clothed in a new set of clothes, a white tank top, a flared grey vest, matching arm wraps and dark pants that were hemmed at her calves.

“I looked for you last night but I figured you were probably busy,” she shared.

“Yeah,” I grunted as I readjusted myself in my seat, I’d been here a while, “Last night wasn’t a great night.” “Understandable,” she pulled up another chair and sat on the other side of Finn, “I’m so sorry, Y/n.” “There wasn’t much time for condolences after, was there?” I remarked, raising my eyes to meet hers. She looked like she was holding back a thousand questions and explanations.

“Rey, I’m doing alright,” I reassured, crossing my legs and settling into my seat, “Even if I wasn’t, we need to talk before you leave.”

Rey nodded and her shoulders relaxed with knowing she wasn’t intruding on my grieving. She proceeded to tell me how at Maz Kanata’s castle when she’d gone to retrieve Finn, she’d felt something pulling her in a different direction. She’d ended up downstairs and had opened up the chest to reveal Luke’s lightsaber. When she picked it up, she’d been subject to a terrifying vision that she said felt more like a bad dream. I had to stop myself from laughing, I knew nothing about those…

Maz found her there and explained to her that the lightsaber was calling to her. Rey had wanted absolutely nothing to do with any part of it. She’d run into the forest, that’s where BB-8 caught up to her and the First Order arrived shortly after that.

“Ren found me there, he used some mind trick on me that caused me to pass out,” she explained, “The next thing I remember is waking up restrained and he was there. He tried to extract the map from me, Y/n, he was inside of my mind but somehow, I was able to enter his.” I had my chin propped up on my fist, leaning my weight on the chair’s arm, “I’ve no answers for you as to how you did that, I’m not as advanced as you may think.” “Whatever it was, I was able to do it without even thinking about it,” she continued, “After that, it just got stranger.” She explained how she’d been able to use a Jedi mind trick on a Stormtrooper to let her out and leave her with a weapon. Now that I had heard of, but never attempted to do. The thought of messing with someone’s mind felt invasive to me, but perhaps necessary in certain situations. Rey had made her way through Starkiller Base undetected until eventually running into us. “We saw you scaling the wall of the base,” I smirked, “Thoroughly impressive.” Rey smiled slightly and ducked her head down. We were at the part of her story where she didn’t need to fill in much,

“I didn’t expect when I reached out for the lightsaber that it would come to me,” she disclosed, “But Maz was right, it called out to me. I’d never used one in my life.” “Then that’s even more impressive than the wall climbing,” I chuckled, I was doing what I could to lighten the mood a little.

“I don’t know what my place is in all of this,” she said, looking around the room, “But I know I want to be a part of it. I just don’t know yet what this power I have is.” “Well,” I began, “I can fill in a few blanks. You’re obviously gifted with the Force, Rey. I have the same power, though I’ve gone untrained since I discovered I possessed it. I was just a kid and I was terrified of it up until today, so you’re already a few steps ahead of me when it comes to acceptance. Everything I know about the Force I know because of what I’d overhear from my family, what I saw in Kylo or by figuring it out on my own. I need help too, same as you. That’s why I’m glad one of us is going to go find my uncle.” “And you’re okay with me going?” she asked hesitantly.

“I’m incredibly grateful,” I specified, “I need to do my job from here for a while, but also selfishly I’m not ready to head back out yet. Not after what happened.”

“Your father,” she leaned forward, “Was a good man. He showed me kindness without even knowing me.”

I squinted, “I’m not sure we’re talking about the same guy.” Kind was not have been the first word I would use to describe Dad.

“I mean it, he offered me a job on the Falcon working for him when we were on Takodana.”

“Ooh,” I inhaled, “I’ve worked on that ship with him many times before. He was arrogant, yelling orders left and right. Constantly looking over my shoulder to make sure I was doing everything right.”

“So I wouldn’t have liked it?” Rey asked.

“Nah,” I smiled nostalgically, “You would’ve loved it.”

Rey smiled widely, “Even though the circumstances weren’t ideal, I can’t tell you how thankful I am that you and I crossed paths.” I beamed, “Me too. When do you leave?” “I’m actually on my way out now, but I wanted to find you and check on Finn,” she replied, “He’s going to be alright?”

“That’s what the doctors told me this morning, it’ll just take him a while to wake up.” “Good,” she was looking him over with such caring eyes, it felt like a private moment.

“I’ll give you a minute with him, I’ll wait outside for you. Take your time.” I stood up and walked towards the door, but not before stopping to place my hand on Rey’s shoulder. She slid hers over it and squeezed gently, our close knit trio was about to go their separate ways for the time being. I exited the room and shut the door so that Rey had privacy if she needed to say something to Finn. After a few minutes, she came out the door looking as ready as she could for what lay ahead. We walked through the base mostly in silence, until Rey picked up on how many looks we were receiving.

“Why are so many people staring at us?” she whispered.

“Word travelled fast about what happened on Ilum,” I replied as I smiled at a waving worker, “I think we’re considered heroes now.”

“But what did I do? You guys did all the work.” “You got us into the oscillation station, plus you’re headed to go get Luke,” I said, “Get used to the word, you’ll be hearing it a lot.” Rey simply shook her head in surprise as we exited the building. There was a large crowd gathered outside the Falcon, people were eager to see it off.

“Now I don’t have to tell you to be careful with the ship, do I?”

“No, but why don’t you just to really drive it in?” she smiled.

“Gladly,” I said, “The Falcon means everything to me. I grew up on it, I’ve lived in it, I learned to fly on it. And now,” I stopped before the crowd noticed us, “Now it’s the last piece of my father that I have. If you have any questions, Chewie will be with you and he knows the ship just as well as I do. When in doubt, ask him. Please don’t take any chances with her unless you absolutely have to. You’re a fantastic pilot so I know you’ll do great. Just treat her well, she’ll protect you.” “Of course, Y/n. I’ll bring her back in one piece for you.” Rey assured me, I believed her.

“I trust you,” I placed a hand on her arm and we began walking again.

The crowd cheered as they caught sight of us, they wished Rey luck as she passed them by. My mother was at the front awaiting our arrival, she pulled Rey aside and I went to say goodbye to Chewie and R2. Chewie embraced me as soon as I got close enough, we both shed a few tears into each other. Short on time, we had to pull away sooner than desired.

“You keep Rey safe and do the same for yourself,” I ordered, “Direct orders from your commander and un-biological niece.” Chewie purred in reply, promising that they would be okay and that he loved me.

I hugged him one last time, “I love you too, fuzzball.” I went over to R2 and kneeled down, “I just got you back, now I’ve gotta say goodbye.” I’ll come back and I’ll have Luke with me.

“I know you will, I’m sure he’ll have missed you.” If he was going to miss me then maybe he SHOULD HAVE TAKEN ME WITH HIM.

“Hey, hey,” I laughed, “Don’t give him too much trouble when you see him, he’s been through a lot.”

Fine…

I wrapped my arms around him, “Be safe, I’ll catch you up on everything you missed when you get back.” I stood and turned to see Rey walking in my direction, it was about that time. Once she reached me, I saw her eyes carried the same unshed tears that mine did. We embraced each other tightly, I knew she’d be okay but I still had the overwhelming fear of losing her. After years of feeling alone, struggling with my powers, I’d finally found someone who was like me. We shared a unique bond that few could understand, we needed each other.

“Please be safe,” I said. “I will, you do the same,” she pulled away, “Is there anything you want me to tell your uncle for you?”

I sighed, “That his niece wants to hear about his vision. He’ll know what it means…”

Rey nodded confusedly, “I’m trusting you to explain what it means when I get back.” “Will do,” I replied, giving her hand a squeeze before she broke away to step on board the ship.

I made my way back to the front of the crowd to stand with my mother, catching a glimpse of Poe dressed in his commanders uniform.

“I’m assuming she talked to you before she left,” I commented.

“She did,” Mom responded, watching as the ship powered up.

“Think Luke’ll be able to help her?” I asked.

“Hopefully, he’ll help us all.”

Our hopes really did rest with my uncle, if anyone could help us it would be him. He’d helped save the galaxy once, hopefully he could give a repeat performance. I patted Mom’s shoulder and went to stand next to Poe, “Love the uniform.” “It’s itchy as hell and you know it,” he replied, sneaking a scratch at his visibly red neck.

I smirked and watched as the Falcon lifted into the air. It was harder than I thought it would be to watch it leave without me onboard. Tears began to flood my eyes, Poe must have been dialed into my senses because his hand intwined itself with mine. They’d be okay, they’d come back, I’d repeat it to myself a thousand times if that’s what kept me calm. The next time I saw my friends, my uncle would be with them. The Falcon jumped to lightspeed and then it was out of sight. The crowd disbanded shortly after, my mom was already being whisked away to a meeting. Poe and I stayed out on the tarmac with BB-8 at our feet,

“What do you have on your schedule today?” I asked.

“I cleared it as soon as I got back to my room this morning.” I tilted my head, “What for? “For you,” he replied, running a hand through his curls, “Look, when I lost my mom I was in a different mood every hour. Depressed, angry, sentimental, you name it. Whether you want to be alone or if you want someone there with you, I wanted to be 100% available.” There it was, that overwhelming, heart swelling feeling of love for him. I’d have to get used to it because I had a feeling that Poe wasn’t going to stop being this sweet. With the crowd gone, I pushed into him and kissed him firmly, pulling him closer by his collar. I’d caught him off-guard, but he settled into it quickly, his hands finding my hips. Once we broke, he nuzzled his nose against mine sweetly,

“Whatever you need, I’ve got you,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, “Why don’t we go back to your room and you entertain me with the story of how you got off Jakku?” He kissed my forehead, “You got it, sweetheart.” We walked back into base, hands locked together and hope in our hearts that the future was brighter than what was behind us.

————

A/N: There we have it! I’m sad I won’t get to write interactions between Rey and the Reader for a while, but you’ll finally get a healthy, well deserved dose of Poe. And I swear one day I’ll learn how to write a decent kiss scene 😂 Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 😊

Taglist: @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @springfox04 @constantdisgrace @holybatflapexpert @seninjakitey @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet @leilei-draws @eternal-fandoms @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @imaginecrushes @eternallyvenus @thescarletknight2014 @simplybarnes @captain-america5 @breyasficletblog @caseymcflurry @stumbleonmywords @april-14-blog @i-ievu @ultrunning @desperatelytryingtosavemyself @caswinchester2000 @meraki-loki @lovinnholland

#star wars #poe dameron x solo!reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #rey #rey imagine #rey x reader #finn #finn imagine #finn x reader #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction

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marvelousstevetony · 3 years

Note

Can you do 35. Why did you hide this from me? Maybe sick Tony? Loving all the content 😊

Thank you for this prompt, anon! This got a little more angsty and sappy than I originally planned, but sometimes Tony just needs to be assured that he’s cared for, especially when he’s sick. Luckily, Steve doesn’t mind reminding him :)

Hope you’ll like this small snippet of sick, insecure Tony and Steve who loves his boyfriend very much <3

Tony can hear Steve coming down the stairs, can hear him knocking on the glass door to the workshop, even over the music Tony has playing as background noise while he works. It’s at a much lower volume, Tony has to admit, because although he loves Back in Black, it doesn’t cure he throbbing in his head, and when he asked JARVIS to turn down the amplification, he had silently apologized to AC/DC.

Tony decides to act as if he simply hadn’t heard Steve, ignoring the way he kept knocking and calling his name. He really had to finish the new upgrade to the armour, and even before they started dating, Tony had discovered that he was involuntarily incapable of gravitating towards Steve if he was within arms reach. He is simply distracted whenever Steve is near, and right now he doesn’t have time to be distracted.

Add to it that he feels like shit, head pounding, nose running, eyes threatening to fall shut every few minutes. He and Steve haven’t been together for very long, and Tony definitely doesn’t want Steve fussing over him or looking at him like he’s this small, fragile thing that needs saving.

So Tony pretends to be unbothered and continues fidgeting with a small piece of metal, but it’s difficult, nearly impossible, to work when he’s hands are shaking like leaves and his vision is beginning to blur.

Steve stops knocking on the door, and Tony thinks it’s because he decided to give up and go back to bed. Tony doesn’t know what time it is, but he knows it’s late, and probably even quite a bit later than Steve’s usual bedtime. When he hears the sound of the door to the workshop sliding open though and a hushed thank you, Jarvis, Tony really should’ve figured. Steve never gives up, and he must’ve used the override code he was given in case of emergencies.

Tony frowns to himself. Nothing really seems emergency-esque.

“That’s for emergencies, you know,” Tony says, not looking at Steve, eyes focusing on the armour. “There an Earth-threatening alien invasion or something?”

“No aliens,” Steve clarifies. He’s closer now, Tony can tell. His voice is nearer, and sometimes, somehow, Tony thinks he’s developed a way to feel when Steve’s close to him. As a large, comforting hand rests on his shoulder, Tony resists every urge to lean into the contact, the warmth and electricity he feels run through his body when they touch. “But my boyfriend hasn’t been answering his phone all day, hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast, and when I come to check on him, he ignores me,” Steve explains, and though his voice is soft, he sounds a little upset as well. “And that made me worried. So, to me, this is an emergency,” he finishes.

“I’ve been busy,” Tony says dismissively. “Suit upgrades.” He gestures vaguely at the metal scraps and various tools that are sprawled all across the worktable.

“It’s late, Tony. Come to bed,” Steve murmurs and hugs Tony from behind, laying his cheek on Tony’s shoulder. “Upgrades can wait.”

Tony huffs a laugh. “If it’s so late then why aren’t you in bed, huh?” Tony teases and smiles to himself. He’s already diverted from his work, confirming the theory that he can’t be close to Steve without losing every inch of concentration from his body.

“Can’t sleep without you,” Steve whispers and presses a kiss to Tony’s neck. He makes a surprised noise when his lips graze Tony’s skin and draws back, bringing a hand to Tony’s cheek.

“You’re burning up,” Steve announces worriedly. “Hey, look at me.”

And Tony can’t hold off the inevitable any longer. He spins his chair around, facing Steve with as much energy as he can muster. Which… isn’t a lot. His eyes are droopy and watery, and his nose looks as if it had been assaulted with scratchy tissues all day. It probably had.

Steve’s face drops immediately when he surveys Tony. His eyebrows draw together, mouth twisting in a way it only does when he’s worried.

“You’re sick,” he states blankly.

Tony shakes his head, but a cough decides to rattle through his chest at that very moment. “I’m okay,” he rasps, knowing he can’t fool Steve and instead tries to brush if off.

“Tony…” he breathes, and Tony hates how defeated, how concerned he sounds. “Why did you hide this from me?” He asks quietly, and Tony can almost hear how Steve’s brain is overthinking, contemplating every scenario that could have caused Tony to keep this secret from him; didn’t Tony trust him? Had he done anything wrong? Had he not paid enough attention to notice how sick his boyfriend is?

Tony needs to set things straight, to assure Steve that whatever senseless and foolish thoughts running through that mind of his are definitely not true. “I didn’t… I’m not,” Tony sighs, unable to complete an adequate sentence. “I know you have a lot on your plate right now. I didn’t want you to worry,” Tony confesses. “I’m a grown man, I can’t take care of myself.”

“Tony,” he says again. God, Tony wishes Steve would stop saying his name so gently, with so much love in his voice that it makes Tony’s eyes misty. The fever is undoubtedly making him more emotional. That’s what he tells himself, anyways.

“I don’t need you to babysit me, Steve.” It comes out harsher than Tony had intended it to, and he immediately wants to retract it when he sees the wounded look on Steve’s face. He sighs again. “I’m sorry, I just— I don’t want you to look at me like I’m this helpless, broken thing that needs fixing. I’m the one who’s supposed to fix things.”

The words tumble out of Tony’s mouth before he has a chance to filter them. But they’re true, Tony realizes. They’re true, and Tony’s so honest right in that moment. He wonders if it’s because Steve’s there, and Steve has this weird effect on him that makes him incapable of hiding how he feels. It’s the same thing that made Tony confess his feelings for him — he simply couldn’t keep them in any longer, and suddenly they just bursted out of him with no warning.

And now, without thinking about it, Tony admits this to himself as much as he does to Steve: he doesn’t want to be fixed, to be cared for in this way. He doesn’t deserve to be cared for. He’s the mechanic, he fixes things, he mends them, he makes good. Ever since he shut down the weapons manufacture that has been his goal. To help. And now, in this state of exhaustion and vulnerability, he can’ do that.

Tony suddenly feels like he can’t breathe.

“Hey…” Steve cups Tony’s face and strokes a thumb over his cheekbone. “I know you think you’re… unworthy of being cared for in this way, which kills me, because you deserve every ounce of love I possess, and it will forever be my goal to make this known to you… but you are the most generous person I’ve ever met. You help everyone you can and destroy yourself over those you can’t. I just wish you’d let me help you sometimes…”

The tears are now trailing down Tony’s cheek, running over Steve’s hand. It’s definitely because he’s tired and sick and not because Steve has just dejected every insecurity Tony hadn’t said out loud but had unconsciously carried on his shoulders.

At some point between Steve entering the workshop and now, the music had been turned off and for a moment, there’s silence. Tony isn’t looking at Steve, but he can feel Steve’s eyes on him, can picture how earnest and sincere and blue they are.

“Come to bed,” Steve says and Tony just nods and lets himself be enveloped in Steve’s arms.

Steve carries Tony to their bedroom, the genius clinging to the soldier like his life depended on it. Laying him down on the bed with care, Steve draws back and smooths a hand over Tony’s head.

The brunette looks up at him with a bleary expression on his face. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. His voice is even raspier now that he actually lets himself resign to being sick, succumbing to the symptoms.

“Shh. Don’t be,” he murmurs and smiles softly. “Get comfortable, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Tony nods and shreds his clothes, stripping down to his boxers and a white t-shirt, then shuffles under the blankets and closes his eyes. He probably would’ve fallen asleep right then, had a tickle in his nose not started growing stronger and stronger. He pushes his nose up against his wrist, but it doesn’t stop the tickle from wanting out. After a few useless nose rubs, his nose gives a tell-tale twitch, and he presses his face into his shoulder.

“h’ngxxtt! HNgx!” Stifling the sneezes makes his sinuses twinge and sends a throb through his skull, so when the tickle returns, he lets himself give into a stronger, fuller uhhETCH’oo! that gives him more relief. For the moment, at least.

“Bless you!” Steve calls, and a few seconds later he pads into the bedroom with a tray stacked with what Tony can identify as Kleenex, tea, fever-reducers, decongestants, and a glass of water. “Here,” he says as he places the tray on the nightstand, pulling out few tissues from the box and hands them to Tony.

Tony nods and folds them over his nose, leaning into another two forceful sneezes.

“uhhCHUSh’oo! snffSNFF! huh— uh! uh’CHUSH!”

“God bless you, sweetheart,” Steve winces. “How did you get so sick, hm?”

Tony is still snuffling into the tissues and doesn’t give any reply other than ducking his head shyly and looking over the edge of the tissue with fond eyes.

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve decides and smiles sweetly. “I’ll get you feeling better.”

#my fic #stevetony #steve rogers #tony stark #Thank you for all the prompts friends!!!#I’ve really enjoyed working on them these last few days #I have a few busy weeks coming #but send prompts and I’ll try to get to them #these tags are a mess #but I love my babies so much #🥺

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ey8508 · 4 years

Text

Impermanence [ 无常 ]

Rumors and Secrets: Li Zeyan / Victor

[From the beginning to the end, he only cared about the most common thing.]

Note:

R&S for this card (CG above)

Chapter SPOILERS up to Season 2: Chapter 2-5 (read at your own risk)

Contains 4 chapters

Translation isn’t 100% accurate (or include grammar errors)

Every part for LZ’s dialogue would be in “this setting”

Do not repost to any other site (reblog is fine)

Chapter 1 Page 1 The night breeze was slightly cool, and the feathers slowly fell, like a misty dream. A feather was lying on Li Zeyan's palm, and he looked down for a long time as if he wanted to engrave this small white shadow in his pupils. The girl asked him before leaving, what he would be like if all the external burdens were removed. Maybe it's like this feather. He thought it was very light, small, and lying quietly in the boundless night, just like the countless feathers on the feet. At this moment, he, like everyone else, stayed in place listening to the countdown of the clock. He believes that he will be saved in the future, but what about after that? Page 2 A gust of wind blew off the feathers on his palm, and Li Zeyan watched it land slowly, and sighed softly. I said I believed in her power, but I was still a little worried. He spent so long waiting for a miracle, and the girl faced the whole world, how much did she have to pay? He took the pocket watch from his pocket. The once shocking crack has been repaired since, and his fingertips lined up the smooth glass dial, and he seemed to see a light that did not belong to the eternal night in an instant. The distorted feeling of time and space suddenly wrapped him, and in a moment it led him to an unknown path- Page 3 Familiar streets, traffic lights alternately lit up at intersections, scenes tumbling thousands of times in memory, unfolded before his eyes again. He breathed a sigh of relief. Lianyu City seemed to be calm again, the sun was good, and someone in and out of the supermarket on the street was carrying a bag. She did it, as he always believed. But after observing around, Li Zeyan found that there was a trace of violation in this familiarity. He raised his eyes to look in the direction of Hua Rui. The building has fewer floors and the facade has not been changed to a glass curtain wall. According to his memory, Hua Rui in front of him should be what it was when it was first established. Page 4 Did you go back in time? Why did the pocket watch send him here? Li Zeyan was about to look away when the clear sky suddenly started to rain. He subconsciously walked to the house spear on the side, and the moment he turned, but suddenly was alert to the petite figure. Li Zeyan suddenly stopped. The girl is walking towards a crossroad not far away. Her face seemed a little more tender than she thought, she stared at the other side of the road blankly, took a small step forward, and stopped again, as if she was stunned about something. Li Zeyan looked in her direction, and across the road was actually himself a few years ago. Page 5 He carefully recalled the past fragments in his memory, after the kidnapping in childhood, until later accidentally rescued the girl on the road, before that, he seemed to have never seen her. The signal light flashed several times, from green to red. The girl in front of her has not taken any steps, and the opposite herself is ready to move on. Li Zeyan frowned as he watched this scene, and doubts grew in his heart. Could it be that during those 17 years, did he cross her? Wanting to answer his doubts, he tried to get closer, but found that he could not get close to her. The world seems to be repelling his existence. Page 6 As if hearing his wish, the world suddenly became quiet, and time seemed to pause. Someone behind him tugged at his cuff, and he looked back and saw a little boy in a weird dress looking up at him. "It's better not to be discovered by her." The little boy in front of him was about seven or eight years old, smiling at him with a calm tone that was not suitable for his age. "Don't worry, this is the world you were in before, and you have indeed successfully traveled to the future of this world." Page 7 The little boy pointed to the direction behind him, "But there cannot be two identical beings in the same world, so you can't do anything here, and you won't stay for long. Li Zeyan frowned slightly, squatting down and looking at him. "Who are you and why do you know this?" "I know everything in this world, and I know why you came here." The little boy looked down at him and tilted his head slightly. "You are great, but the future is always full of variables. If you are not prepared, everything will not go as desired." Page 8 The little boy slowly put away his smile. Li Zeyan looked at his eyes, and the bright pupils seemed to reflect the light and shadow of the whole world. After a long time, he stood up and nodded slightly. "I know." The little boy laughed again, as if he had sensed something, and waved at him. The distorted feeling of time and space strikes back, Li Zeyan finally raised his eyes and looked deeply at the familiar intersection. The scene that seemed to be about to be missed just now was printed in his mind. He understands that after every choice there will be countless variables, but for this alone, he must make sure that nothing is lost. Chapter 2 Page 1 Back to the present time, Li Zeyan still has some characteristics. Occasionally, he also imagined the future, whether it was good or bad, tacitly acquiescing to the premise that he would meet her. But if there is no meeting, let her fight the world alone... He has no doubt that after facing the world’s greatest danger, she will grow better, stronger, and be able to stand alone. But the world is not destroyed, there are still many things to do in the future, and there may be many unexpected dangers.... And he promised her that he would never leave her alone. Page 2 There is no new crack in the pocket watch, and he still has the opportunity to reconfirm and look into the far future. Li Zeyan used Evol again, and the pointer of the pocket watch rotated, chasing the time year after year. At the moment of stepping into the vortex, the pocket watch suddenly made a continuous sound of "crack", and dense cracks covered the dial. The familiar tearing sensation climbed to every inch of his skin, and a fierce pressure came from his chest, as if he was walking forward in a rush of countercurrent. A huge loud noise appeared out of thin air in the otherwise quiet space, like playing an upside-down disc, screaming vaguely and harshly. Anyone's first response to suffering is to escape, but the consciousness he struggled to maintain is still reminding himself that time is running out and he must get there before the day. Page 3 When the ears finally calmed down, the cold sweat had filled Li Zeyan's clothes. He held on to the wall beside him and took a few deep breaths. When the dizziness subsided and his vision recovered, he carefully opened his palm to check the pocket watch. Fortunately, the pocket watch was not broken, and his judgment was not wrong. Li Zeyan observed his environment. This seemed to be the inpatient department of a hospital. There were no people in the corridor, so when he turned his head, he easily saw the girl walking towards this side. Page 4 Li Zeyan walked to the corner and watched her walk into a ward. This time the girl looks like she remembers, but she has a more confident expression, and her tone of voice is polite and generous when she greets the people in the ward. Li Zeyan smiled slightly, his eyes were filled with comfort and pride that he didn't even notice. After a while, the girl opened the door and left, frowning slightly, as if thinking about something. Soon, the alarm sound of the instrument suddenly sounded in the ward just now, and the girl ran back after hearing the sound. A dark figure sprang from the ward with a cold light flashing in his hand and went straight to the girl. Page 5 "Be careful!" Li Zeyan shouted almost subconsciously, and the girl quickly reacted at the same moment, turning and running to his direction. Just when he thought that the crisis could be changed, the instrument in the ward rang again, and the girl looked back. The man in black who's face couldn't be seen was getting closer and closer, and the sharp blade in his hand always declared a bright threat. The time of the whole world seemed to stop at this moment. Page 6 The blood in his body seemed to freeze instantly, and circulation came back after a long time... At this time, he sharply pulled his nerves. From beginning to end, he only cared about such a simple thing: I hope she will live safely, no matter how the world evolves, he will come to her again. But right now, what he worries most still happened. He could not see the result of that scene, and the huge repulsion urged the pocket watch in his hand. However, just seeing her being chased by danger was enough to make his long-silent fear all come to his heart. This is not the future he wants to see. He does not accept such a situation. Even if it is only a small possibility, he will never allow. Page 7 The sharp pain of the body enveloped the throbbing of the heart, and he finally closed his eyes, and the flow of time brought him back to the original point. This pain made him clearly realize that he still needs to do more preparation. Chapter 3 Page 1 When Wei Qian received Li Zeyan's call, there was not much time left before the end. The long-standing habits made him subconsciously act in response. The task given to him by Li Zeyan is not difficult. Contact an Evolver who has the ability to transmit sound. Wei Qian remembers that this person is a member of Wumingdao and his contact information should be on the list. The phone vibrated again, Wei Qian picked it up and took a look, then widen his eyes in surprise. It was Li Zeyan’s text. He said, ‘I’m sorry, for troubling you at this hour.’ Page 2 In his impression, the CEO rarely speaks in this tone. Although he is a strict boss, he never gives useless tasks. Even if he is asked to deal with some personal arrangements occasionally, it is definitely not a "trouble". Wei Qian just froze for a moment, and then quickly responded. "President, you are welcome, this is what I should do." Perhaps it is because everyone has to be beaten back to the original point by force majeure, and many people no longer care about their social relationships. But Wei Qian didn't think so. His life creed always looked upward. Even if it was just a small favor, letting him know that there are people in this world who needs him, it is not a waste of time. Page 3 Li Zeyan walked out of the bathroom and put on a clean casual shirt. When he returned to the present from that hospital, he almost lost his strength and had to hold the table to stabilize his figure, accidentally knocking down a stack of documents. He noticed that the form that fell out was a list of personnel compiled at the beginning of Wuming Island, and it simply recorded the identity and ability information of each members. Li Zeyan's mind flashed through many records on the list, and finally stopped on an Evolver that once interested him.

The pocket watch can no longer bear more pressure, and the countdown to the future is constantly approaching. He is not sure what he will be like after the end. He must change everything now. Page 4 Wei Qian’s message came in time, saying that the Evolver had been contacted and he is now on Huapu Street. Li Zeyan asked Wei Qian to send him Souvenir's address not far from Huapu Street, where they could meet. Not much time, but enough. He must be able to do more. Chapter 4 Page 1 When Li Zeyan arrived, Souvenir had put up the store closing sign, and a young man was sitting at a small table outside the store and playing with his mobile phone. When the young man saw Li Zeyan, he was taken aback and blinked. "You, are you the boss of Wumingdao? You’re the one who is often on the news." "Hello, this is Li Zeyan." Seeing Li Zeyan stretched out his hand to him, the young man hurriedly put down his mobile phone and stood up and shook his hand firmly. Page 2 The meteors in the sky became denser, and the two of them did not say much, and went straight to the subject. In summary, the youth’s ability is to “send” the voice at a specific point, and at the selected time point, directly convey what they want to say to the designated person. Although you can choose any time, the number of messages in a short time is limited. The young man looked at Li Zeyan's frowning eyebrows, and tried his best to think about the words. "You can understand it as a microphone. My Evol is the line connecting two paper tubes, but after all, it's just a line. It's hard to talk like face to face." Li Zeyan thought for a moment and nodded. "How many times can I leave a message?" Page 3 "According to the time span you choose, you can stay about four times. But if I work hard, I can do it again." " Thank you." The young man looked at Li Zeyan and didn't feel any hesitation from him. He didn't seem to be worried about the outcome of this incident. "That... Have you ever been through this crisis? Mr. Li, you do this to make sure we can survive" "I am sure." " Why?" Page 4 "Because I saw that future." The youth froze for a moment, "But even if this message is successful, the future may not develop as you want." Li Zeyan looked at him, and seemed to be looking at a figure that emerged in his mind. "It doesn't matter. The future is still very long, I have the patience." He is always patient, waiting for her to get the hang of it. The young man unlocked his mobile phone and handed it to Li Zeyan. Page 5 "I'll give you a reminder later, just say it as if you were calling." Li Zeyan took the phone and looked at the blank call interface. He still likes to talk about important things in person, but it is undeniable that there is often a time difference between people. As the little boy said, many things are probabilistic events and will not be as you desire. He cares about results more than form. The young man began to use his abilities, and a slight electric current sounded in his ears and ripples appeared on the interface of the phone. A feather suddenly fell from mid-air, slowly staying on the small table between the two of them. The evening breeze turned it slightly, and the soft feather gently rubbed his little finger. Page 6 Li Zeyan bent his knuckles subconsciously, and in a daze he could still feel the girl's slender fingers hooking on him, chanting various promises. They still have many unfinished agreements. Only when you meet again can you keep the appointment. "The timing is set, is President Li ready?" Li Zeyan recovered and put the phone to his ear. The young man cleared his throat and closed his eyes. "Hello Miss MC, here is a message from the past. President Li, you can say it." Page 7 Li Zeyan thought of the back standing still at the intersection, gently curved his mouth. " Dummy..." "Why are you hesitating?" The bell rang over the city, and the expected end had arrived. The dense meteor shower is like someone who has burnt a match in the night, illuminating the eternal night with dazzling white light. Page 8 Li Zeyan looked up and saw a nearly transparent light curtain shrouded under the white light. The body seemed to lighten a bit, and the ability to melt into bone and blood was summoned from a distance, as if someone was pulling him to his side. The hands on the clock tower stagnated briefly, and in the next instant, they moved slightly in the counterclockwise direction.

#rumors and secrets Victor #love and producer #love and producer li zeyan #mr love queen's choice #mr love queen's choice victor #mr love victor #mr love li zeyan

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and-stir-the-stars · 3 years

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Why do you like the continental so much??? It’s so boring and contributed absolutely nothing in its entire existence of the show :/ (which thankfully wasn’t long) not to mention how ugly that thing is?? the beige on beige is so bad like pls just looking at that poor excuse of a car is so displeasing- also it didn’t even mean that much to cas you’re exaggerating it for no reason :/ shdbsn the way it drives too don’t even get me started,,, it’s so ugly the fact it was supposed to be a joke and wasn’t even funny I hated every minute of it— the second hand embarrassment was seriously strong for cas- I’m so glad he got the truck later which was so so so much better omg

(this is all a big joke ily and your odd obsession with this lovely random car <3)

Participation grade: 11/10! This reads not only like you put actual effort into making a dig at Connie, but like you specifically searched for and chose things that would upset me.

Emotional reaction grade: afgadhfladkg, thank the gods I glanced down halfway through and saw your note that this was a joke, I was getting misty eyed reading this. Not, like, sad tears, more like I was laughing awkwardly and with horror from how intense the dislike for Connie was that it practically brought tears to my eyes. "Supposed to be a joke",, how could you?? 9/10. (Subtracting a point bc I didn't physically cry or pace angrily bc I realized it was a joke halfway through)

Grammar grade: Sweetie, have you heard of capitalization before? And who tf uses not one, not two, but three commas in succession like that? Absolutely no one. You're being so extra rn that I just can't take you seriously. Doesn't help that you seem to think run-on sentences are a must-have. 0/10.

Accuracy grade(s):

"It's boring and contributed nothing to the show" > I mean, Connie is a car, not a living character, so I'm not sure what you expected from her in terms of entertainment. As for contributing nothing to the show, that car kept Cas from sleeping on the cold ground at night in the middle of winter. And, you know, hypothermia exists. So do people who would willingly steal from, kidnap (*shudders at the reminder of all those Criminal Minds eps with homeless people being brutally killed*), or otherwise take advantage of people lying asleep and unprotected on the ground. So that car could easily have saved his life as a human. Connie contributed a lot to Cas, but we don't get to explore the full extent of that bc Supernatural hates giving Cas any actual importance for some reason. And because Connie is a car that no one cares about, but we don't talk about that here. 1/10.

"the beige on beige is so bad" > To be fair, you have a point. As much as I love the beige as a whole, Connie could use a little splash of colour. Maybe some red accents to match her tail lights, or a light blue to match Castiel's eyes. 6/10.

"also it didn’t even mean that much to cas you’re exaggerating it for no reason" > Umm,, the reason is that I have a lot of love in my heart, okay? And it does mean that much to Cas, just. Subtextually. Because again, spn hates giving Cas importance and letting him have nice things. 4/10.

"the way it drives" > adghfagdsfha, she is a car. How does a car drive incorrectly? She gets from A to B, does she not? Well, when Cas remembers to fill her fuel tank. Maybe you mean Connie doesn't have good shock absorption or something, but you wouldn't know that unless you had actually gone for a drive with her. In which case, please set me up? 0/10

Overall, for accuracy, I'll give you a 3/10. You had a couple good points, but not enough to gain you any real leniency.

#thank you for the ask!#i wasn't expecting to get more than one of these <3 <3 #castiel's continental #i'd tell you god's name if you asked #ily too kind anon #(unkind anon?)#(no no it's kind anon)#it's an odd obsession but it's MY odd obsession <3 #she is lovely isn't she?#*sighs dreamily*

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mcfreakin-bxtch · 4 years

Text

Langdon’s Got a Queen

Pairing: Michael Langdon x Reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ (some filth y’all, face riding, slight chocking, some dom/sub undertones, breeding kink, handjob), blood, language, deaths

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: I finally finished it. Some parts are a little different but that’s just for the story. I’m working on requests now but they are still open as are my taglist and prompts! I’m a multifandom blog so I’ll try my hand at anything.

*Also I have a picture of the dress at the bottom!

Langdon’s Got a Witch

“How long?”

Cordelia and the other witches, namely Zoe, Madison, Mallory, and Queenie, stood in front of Y/N.

They were at the Warlock’s coven now, and Michael had proven himself worthy of a supreme after passing the Seven Trials and even bringing back Misty Day from Hell. Y/N was proud of him and could feel how exhausted he was after the ordeal.

It took Mallory, whom Y/N couldn’t deny had a connection with, to figure out the relationship between Y/N and Michael.

“A while,” Y/N simply answered. They didn’t need to know more than what they already knew.

Cordelia took in a breath, eyes glittering with betrayal.

“And you didn’t think to tell me. Why?”

Maybe more of Michael was rubbing off on her. Maybe she was becoming more confident in who she was destined to be. Or maybe she just wanted to have a little bit of fun at their expense.

Either way her response, a short “You didn’t ask” followed by a smirk, resulted in a harsh slap that echoed the room.

“You are not a part of this coven,” Cordelia growled. “Not anymore. You have betrayed us all, and I will smile at the day he leaves you high and dry.”

Y/N squared her shoulders confidently. “We’ll see.”

The witches, other than Mallory, all exited the room with a shake of their heads. Mallory walked towards her, taking her hands into hers and squeezing.

“Y/N,” she started.

“Save it, Mallory,” Y/N sighed. “I don’t care what any of you think or say. I’m staying with him.”

Mallory gulped. “He’s evil Y/N. He’s going to kill Cordelia. And possibly the rest of us too. Don’t you care about her at all? Or any of us for that matter?”

It would be a lie if she said she didn’t. Though the same darkness that coursed through Michael Langdon was now seeping into her soul, Y/N was still Y/N Y/L/N, and that part of her loved Mallory and the others.

But her love and devotion to Michael was stronger. It was too late to back out now, and she found that she didn’t want to. What she felt when she was with him, caught in his embrace, entwined in his love, it was otherworldly. There were no words that could perfectly describe their love for each other, and no one else could possibly understand it.

“I do,” Y/N finally admitted. “But my love for Michael is stronger. If you just leave him alone-.”

“Leave him alone?” Mallory scoffed. She looked like she was about to argue some more, but then stopped herself.

“I guess there’s nothing I can do to change your mind.”

Y/N nodded. Mallory clenched her jaw and looked away, tears glittering in her eyes. She said nothing else as she walked towards the doors but did take one last look back at Y/N as she sat down in one of the chairs, eyes glazed over in thought. Her expression was unreadable, and Mallory sensed that she was having an internal argument with herself. Maybe there was hope for her.

…

“I have to get you out of here,” Michael panted, throwing piles of clothes in one of her suitcases.

Y/N watched as he moved swiftly. Michael had walked into her room in franticly after finding out that Cordelia knew about them. It was only a matter of time before they turned on her and used her against him. Michael was not going to let them touch her.

“Where? Are you coming with me? We can handle it, right?” The questions were flying out of her mouth, and Michael angrily turned towards her, zipping up her case with forceful tugs.

“The only thing you need to worry about is staying alive,” he hissed viciously at her.

Y/N knew that it was all the pent-up frustration and the fear of her death that was making Michael hostile. It still hurt her though.

Michael must have sensed this because his expression softened, still visibly tense, and cupped her face. The kiss was soft, and it left Y/N breathless when he pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed against her lips. “But your safety is the most important thing to me right now. They will stop at nothing to bring me down, and you are definitely one of them. If anything happened to you…”

He trailed off, as if just thinking about it was enough to kill him. Y/N grabbed his wrists, bumping her nose against his.

“I know,” Y/N whispered. “I just want you to be okay too, Michael.”

Michael nodded. He licked his lips, backing away from her and grabbing another bag for her to pack with.

“We have to hurry,” Michael reminded her. “We’ll figure everything else out later.”

Y/N nodded. Helping him pack the rest of her stuff. He transfigured them to her old neighborhood, and Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion.

“Why-.”

“That friend of yours, Christine,” Michael interrupted. “I put a cloak on her and her house. It’s temporary, but it’ll do for now. You’ll be staying there until I come back for you.”

She bit her lip. She didn’t like this one bit. Plus, what did Michael tell Christine and her family?

Y/N pressed a hard and dirty kiss to his lips, slightly surprising him. She reveled in the explicit moan she got out of him. She would take him right in the middle of the street in front of everyone and wouldn’t bat an eye.

Michael took her bottom lip between his teeth as he started to pull away, biting down hard enough to draw blood, making her whine. He ran his tongue over the cut, licking up the little droplets of blood. Y/N was breathing heavily when he back away with a smirk.

“I love you. Please be careful.”

Michael couldn’t help but get one more kiss in before whispering his love for her.

When Michael disappeared Y/N grabbed her bag and suitcase, eyes trailing over her once familiar home and met the neighbor across the street – who no doubt had watched Michael and Y/N’s make-out session – who met her eyes back with a look of disgust.

Y/N stuck her tongue out and smirked at her before walking up the steps of her temporary home.

Turns out Michael was very persuasive with Christine and her family. Their glazed eyes and dazed looks only answered her thoughts from early on that day. It was weird. Y/N adored Christine, she was the only friend she had left, and she wasn’t even Christine anymore.

“It really is lovely,” Christine blabbered to her in the middle of the night. “The time of change is coming. And your boyfriend is our savior!”

Her tone held light teasing but pure adoration. Sweet Christine, devoted to all things light and Godly, selling her soul to the devil himself. And it was her fault.

She only let a few tears escape her that night.

…

The witches burned Miriam Mead at the stake. They tried looking for Y/N, but not even a clairvoyant could find her. Michael didn’t realize they were on Miss Mead’s trail as well, which only fueled his guilt and his anger. And what was worse, he couldn’t even get her soul back.

Followed by his grief, Michael wanted desperately to get Y/N and hold her until the pain went away. Stumbling in the woods, he thought for sure he heard her voice calling out to him.

“Michael.”

His love was standing in the middle of a small open field. Dressed in white, hair braided with small little white flowers, she was the epiphany of beauty itself.

There were moments where Michael felt incredibly guilty for slowly stripping Y/N of her old self, the good side that constantly tried to hold on. He knew that Y/N had her own darkness, but he was the main reason behind her magic growing darker and more powerful, the reason why she had to abandon the witches she had grown fond of. A part of him hated himself for spoiling her to the point of rotten. She deserved better; a chance at life and an afterlife, whatever it may be.

But Michael was a selfish man and Y/N was a selfish woman. They would cause nothing but pain and suffering to others if it meant getting their way, their love being untouched and unquestioned.

He reached out to her, whimpering when she didn’t hold her arms out for him. He sobbed and let out a shriek when he realized it was just a hallucination.

“God loves you, Michael.”

Maybe, in his own sick and twisted way, God really did love him. The trials of his cruel life were only a simple test, coiled to form the perfect vision of good and evil. But Michael had a destiny, didn’t he? He was born to rule and destroy the very world God created himself, left to persuadable humans to shape in their own image as well. It was his birthright to create the ashes upon the earth and rebuild an honest haven of darkness.

Michael stuck to these conclusions after the church found him. He told Madelyn, the kind woman who took him in, to take him to Y/N before he was to see the robotics corporation – he caught the small gleam of jealously in her eyes at Y/N’s name.

It was time to stop pulling punches. But if Michael were to achieve any of this, he needed a queen by his side.

…

Cordelia gaped at the woman standing before her. Dressed in a black and red laced dress – not too short, just how Langdon liked it – beautifully elegant and dangerous. She was sure she had everything figured out, that they had found a way to finally defeat Michael Langdon. But they were unprepared for Y/N Y/L/N.

Y/N Y/L/N, the witch Langdon had fought so hard to keep well hidden, and succeeded in. The very same girl they thought to be dead, killed just before the massacre at Robichaux’s.

Y/N was proud of herself when her and Michael were able to create the perfect cloak and projection. It left her drained all the time and it couldn’t last for long, but all’s they needed was the start of the apocalypse. It was like a breath of fresh air after it happened, and Michael and Y/N celebrated in bloody fashion; it makes her stomach flip and her pussy throb when she thinks about the way Michael held her, crushed her with his weight on top of the Satanic symbol, covered in blood. Some days she can still feel the stickiness of the blood and his cum painted over her body.

Y/N had changed significantly since. No longer was she the small, insignificant girl who was just a small piece in the game of life. She had changed into something fiercer, more authoritative; feral, lethal, and coldly calculated.

“Y/N!” Mallory gasped.

She was so close to completing the spell. So close to defeating Michael once and for all and restoring the once lively earth. Y/N simply smiled at her.

“I do love you Mallory,” her voice was even different, more melodic and sinister in its nature. “But you have left me no choice.”

Mallory struggled for breath as she felt a force tightened around her neck. Gasping and thrashing in the bath, she started to see black dots surrounding her vision as Y/N only stared, hands behind her back. She decided to be merciful, however, and after a few moments of watching Mallory struggled for her life she snapped her neck; she felt Mallory’s life drift away, but still lit the bath aflame along with her body.

Now Y/N stood next to Michael in front of Cordelia, smiling at her gaping figure.

“She’s dead, Cordelia,” Y/N said.

Cordelia shook her head. “No that can –“

“They’re all dead,” Michael finished for her. “Every single one of your precious little witches.”

“Except her.” It came out vicious, but they paid no mind to it.

“Because I was never one of yours,” Y/N said as she started to walk towards her. “Don’t you see that now? This was always what I was meant to become. You thought you were slick. You thought you could destroy us.”

She was standing in front of her now, almost bumping noses with her. Cordelia could only stare.

“What happened to you?” Cordelia whispered.

Y/N could feel the pain with the question. She would’ve wavered before, would’ve considered the question with care. What did happen to her? But instead Y/N grinned, plunging the knife deep into her abdomen. Cordelia gasped, grabbing her hand before falling over the balcony to her death.

Michael strolled up to stand behind Y/N as they both watched from above the life disappear from Cordelia’s eyes. That last thing she saw as her soul faded away was them licking her blood off the knife and their lips, groaning at the taste of it.

“My little witch,” Michael hummed, hands splaying over the back of her dress to carefully unzip it – Y/N would kill him if he ripped the damn thing.

Y/N grinned, shrugging off the dress. Michael took a step back to admire her; lips plump and red, her breasts heaved with the growing arousal, nipples perk, and he inhaled deeply at the scent of her desire.

“My king,” Y/N cooed. “Please.” She whined, thighs rubbing against each other as she tried to soothe the growing ache between her legs.

Michael tooted. “Please what? Use your words, my queen.”

Y/N slithered up to him, taking off every piece of his clothing slowly, as if this was their first time all over again; fingers trailing over his beautiful smooth skin, covered in the blood of the witches, heart fluttering and her juices now visible on her thighs at each moan and hiss as her nails scraped over his body.

“I want to fuck you,” Y/N growled. “I want to show everyone whose side I’m fucking on. I want them to see you let me use you. I want them to feel the love I only have for you. To know that there was never any other way other than this.”

Michael grew painfully harder at her words, moaning loudly when she gave a forceful tug of his now long locks.

“Will you let me?” Y/N cooed as she nibbled on his neck, no doubt leaving trails of spit and bruises all around his neck, marking him as hers.

Michael could only moan and squirm in her arms, his cock brushing against her stomach every time he did. It doesn’t matter how many times he’s been inside her, tasted her; he could not and would never get enough.

“Use your words,” she said, using his words back at him.

“Fuck – yes.”

Y/N took him in her palm then, holding his shuddering form as she grasped up and down his length. She tightened her fist, making his hips stutter into her hand.

“Lay down,” Y/N whispered.

Michael complied quickly, bringing her down with him. Y/N straddled his stomach, running her fingers through his hair.

They didn’t need to communicate with words to know what the other wanted and what they were feeling. Michael smirked and gripped her thighs, pushing her up until her hot, wet cunt pulsed over his face. He didn’t waste any time in attaching his lips to her clit, making her close her eyes with a soft sigh at the feeling of his tongue and teeth scraping against her most sensitive part. His tongue lapped at her slit, tongue pulsing in and out of her leaking hole. He knew her body so well now, knew how to play her like a fine tune. One hand left the bruising grip on her thigh to curl two thick fingers into her core. Y/N cried out, struggling to keep her hips still. Michael moaned around her clit, and she couldn’t help but to start moving to the rhythm of his fingers, riding his face. He hummed in approval, sucking her clit.

It only took a few more thrusts of his fingers and one powerful suck on her clit for her to gush around his fingers and face. Michael licked up every slick of her orgasm, moaning at the taste of her sweet and tangy release.

Panting, Y/N moved down to hover over his red angry dick, wasting no time in sliding down on him. He let out a chocked groan, hands steadying her on her hips. She let out a groan at the taste of herself on his lips, starting a rough and fast pace.

“Shit,” Y/N hummed as she bounced on his cock. Every stretch of his impressive girth into her cunt left her sore but still always aching for more after. It was like he was made for her, and Michael felt the same way every time his length made itself home into her hungry warmth.

“You feel so good,” she continued. “I can feel you everywhere Michael.”

Michael grunted at her whine, planting his feet down to meet her thrusts.

“Yeah?” He placed a palm on her stomach, feeling his cock destroying her guts. “I can feel my cock right here,” he breathed. “You like having me there? Pretty soon our baby will be growing there. You’re going to look so perfect, round with my child.”

This was the first time they had ever discussed having kids together. Y/N never saw herself as a parent, but with Michael? She would carry a thousand of his babies if that’s what he wanted.

“Yes,” Y/N sighed. “Oh Michael, yes.”

They were nothing but a chorus of moans and groans as the audible sound of skin slapping grew louder and more frantic. Y/N wrapped her hand around his throat gently at first, only tightening when he gave a guttural whine of approval.

“Michael,” Y/N whined as she felt her orgasm seeping through her like a tidal wave. “I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it,” Michael ordered through clenched teeth. “I wanna feel you. Gonna fill you up. And then some. Until you’re flourished with my seed.”

Y/N cried out as she came, walls suffocating his length, her wetness gushing out of her. Michael cursed and rutted faster and harder into her until ropes of cum spilled into her, painting her fluttering walls.

She collapsed on top of him, head resting over his fluttering heart. Looking around at the massacre surrounding them, Y/N couldn’t help but let out a string of giggles, which earned a curious look from Michael underneath her.

Thinking back, Y/N never thought this was how her life would turn out. Sometimes it was strange to think about, how Michael came into her life. She had destiny to thank for that, as did Michael.

Now, pregnant with her first child, Y/N felt a new sense of hope she hadn’t felt in a long time. And only Michael and their growing family could give her that.

Michael Langdon looked at her with nothing but unwavering love and devotion, feeling the kick of their child against his palm.

Tags: @scarlett-berserker, @justlovetoreadfics, @lil-baby27, @mando-vibes, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch, @im-the-music-whore, @certifiedhunter, @outlawers, @hejahockey, @okaydacre, @lemongrove, @appreciating-chase-brody, @iwontforgettheapplepie, @mybabyboytony, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd, @elusive-ivory, @dizzydazed, @bluejeancntrygrl, @our-mrlangdon, @parody-the-emi, @evalynanne, @purplewaterbird

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #cody fern #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon smut #ahs #american horror story #american horror story apocalypse #ahs fx #cordelia goode #mallory #zoe benson #miriam mead

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