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medusapelagia · 9 months

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8 Au-gust: Robots and Androids - Part 1

Parta 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 [...]

Ok. I wanted to join the Au-gust prompts but, as we all know, I'm totally unable to write drabbles… So here is a sneak pic of the new fic I'm working on right now (yes, another one. I'm a horrible person!)

Android Au [Untitled for the moment]

"Come on cowboy. You got me. Now do you think we can rest a little?" the dark-haired man asked, his face covered in sweat and breathless.

"I'm no cowboy, and no, we can’t rest. Come on." the other replies, pushing him forward.

"Ok, ok, so no cowboy. Sheriff? What's your title man?"

"I'm a Standard Electronic Vehicle Evolution, and you can't rest."

"Not all of us are made by engineers, you know that? Human beings need rest!" he complains.

The android sighs, the hunt was an easy one. He found the criminal soon enough, he was hiding on a casino planet. What a stupid thing to do, even for a human.

All the rest of this mission has gone wrong.

The planet the criminal was hiding in was too far from any military base and he had to drag the unwilling man on his ship. Then somehow he managed to free himself from the basic handcuff he had put on him and damaged the ship before the android was able to stop him and put the higher level of handcuffs on him.

But that wasn’t enough to prevent the crashing on the desertic planet they were on right now.

"I know that, and I know that if I let you rest in the middle of the desert with no water you'll be dead in less than two hours. So stand up and follow me. My sensors detected a human outpost a few miles away. If we keep walking at this pace we'll be there in three or four hours max."

He could drag him across the desert but he sustained some damage during their crash and he doesn’t want to add more damage fighting with that stubborn human.

"But you told me I'm going to die in two!" the man whines.

God, this human was so dramatic!

"If you stop, yes, if you come with me, maybe not."

The man looks at him with anger.

He is just an android, but after years on the field, he has learned how to detect some human emotions. They have this strange thing called "facial expressions" that sometimes he is able to read. What he doesn't understand is what humans call "tone".

Irony, sarcasm, amusement.

His internal program knows what they are but he is not able to identify them correctly. During the academy, when he trained with humans, they mocked him a lot of times. He knows they did but he never truly understood that.

Ha had a human partner once, a few years before.

He wasn't bad but it wasn't nice either. They just worked together, but Tommy Hagan was always too irrational and that got him killed. After that, he refused to have another human partner and he definitely didn't want another android as a companion, so he kept doing his job alone.

His trainer gave him a little nickname, years before. Lone Wolf. He liked that and he made an incision on his biceps with those words. Just like a human’s tattoo.

It's so small that it seems like a scratch, but to his advanced vision, the letters are perfectly clear.

It is his little dirty secret.

"Move. One step in front of the other.” he tries to coax the other man who keeps protesting loudly.

"If you bring me back they are going to kill me anyway, so why don't you leave me here dying an honorable death, stupid piece of junk?"

"I can't. I can't let a human being be hurt if I can prevent that. It's in my code."

"Fuck your stupid code. They are going to sentence me to death in any case. So let me rest, wait a couple of hours, and bring back my dead body! I'm sure they will give you a medal in any case!"

The android keeps his eyesight on the horizon, trying to guess how far the human outpost is and if he has enough energy to drag the man there.

"They don't give medals to androids. We just do our job, as it is expected." he replies without even looking at him.

"Can you tell me at least your fucking name? I'm Eddie Munson, at your service." the man says bowing and spitting some sand.

"I know. It's written on your wanted poster."

"Cool. Now can you tell me your name?" he smirks.

The android turns toward him, almost annoyed "I already told you, I'm a Standard Electronic Vehicle Evolution."

"You don't look like a fucking vehicle!"

"The early prototypes used to have wheels and their human partner could use them as a vehicle. I'm a newer model." He was built to help in police or military operations, it doesn’t matter that now he is more or less a hunter.

"And where is your partner?"

Oh, this human likes to talk. A lot. He knows two ways of making humans shout but the first is against his code.

"Dead."

"I'm sorry."

"It was years ago."

"I'm still sorry for your loss."

"I didn't lose anything. He died and I know perfectly well where he is." Tommy's body is buried under the central station, like all the other humans.

"Fucking android. Ok. So you have no name. Do you have a serial number at least?"

"Yes. STE2UTK7NQ."

"Ok. No. That's not working. Ste, uh? Can I call you Step?"

"Actually my creator called us S.T.E.V.E."

"Steve?"

"It’s an acronym for Standard Electronic Vehicle Evolution. We are all Steves."

"That doesn't sound really personal."

"Will you stop talking if I let you name me?" It's not a big deal. He has had names before. None did stick, but he can understand the difficulty of the human mind: humans need a name to identify things, so the android will let the man name him.

"What about Stevie?"

"Isn't that a nickname?"

"Yes."

"Close to my definition?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Ok. I don't mind. Now can you move?"

With a huge grumble, the human gets up and starts walking.

As the android suspected, he doesn’t shut up. Not even for a second.

He keeps talking and talking, even when the android tries to make him understand that he should save his strength, and when after the umpteenth time he falls and is unable to get up, the android is not surprised.

"It seems that our adventure came to an end, Stevie. I hope you find your way back home." he whispers, before passing out.

The android sighs, picking up the other man like a doll, and he keeps walking toward the human outpost.

[continue...]

#steddie #myfanfic #android au #I really can't write drabbles no matter how hard I try!#au gust 2023 #tumblr fic #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #writing challenge #android AU #Android Steve Harrington #Wanted Criminal Eddie Munson #medusapelagia fanfic #medusapelagia #my fanfic

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alex2astronomy1 · 4 months

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Stoick the vast X gn reader

NOT PROOF READ use of they/them, no use of y/n only use of "you or you heard your name being called before" aka second person, SFW no use of sex or dirty jokes. except kissing (ONLY KISSING) but little use of violence, (your dragons a armor wing btw its name is wingdome) setting: above the water in the middle of attacking dragon hunter ships

642 WORD COUNT

you hear your name being called from afar trying to see what called you a dragon comes forth a smile creeps on your face. Your dragon wingdomes wings flap going into the air "Stoick, I'm glad your here. the hunters have been on our tail for the past 15 minutes. we have enough energy to get rid of half these ships but there's going to be another hoard coming in around 10 minutes. But holding them off from berk I don't know how much longer we can last" you say rushed some words coming out a blur in a panic like frenzy. "don't worry were here now the rest of the riders are coming. calm down" his deep voice says finally calming you down as he points to the rest of the riders coming your way. "now we have to make sure they don't get any closer to berk." he say grabbing his axes and heading into battle you following short after.

Going in dodging arrow after arrow almost getting hit by a boulder wingdome goes under water. Then hits the side of the boat sinking in the water going to another getting a net thrown at you this time. Actually making only hitting you not your dragon you almost fall but quickly regain your self focusing on getting the net off of you.

tapping the side of your dragons neck taking the signal telling it to go to the left as you grab a knife to cut off the net part of it still being on your foot you try and grab it only to fall

getting it off mid air "wingdome" you call out only to be grabbed out of the air "you should be more careful when getting stuff off of you mid air and on your dragon" Stoick says his dragon going to yours as you climb onto your saddle "sorry ill try and be more careful next time" you give him a slight laugh

AFTER THE FIGHT (setting: your outside your house) no injuries happened thankfully but you have to take a few arrows off of wingdomes medal armor mentally thanking yourself that they are a armor wing "you did quite well out of there I'm glad to have you on our side" Stoick says with a breathy laugh "yeah we were able to save a couple of dragons," you say with a proud smile taking an arrow off of wingdome

"Hey I've been thinking for a while, and" he sighs with a minute passing "you know you can tell me anything" you say reassuringly he looks at you with a smile adverting his eyes for a moment taking a deep breath "your an amazing person everyone in the village knows it the way your kind and caring not to mention beautiful," he pauses for a moment "everyone loves you, including me but more then just how your heroic and kind. your personality has me in a loop hole. what I'm trying to say is I love you and I've know this for a month but before that month I've loved you just haven't realized it, would you be with me"

He looks at you for a second seeing your surprised face regretting it and backing up a little you go closer and kiss him immediately him begin a little surprised at you but returning the kiss

"i hope that answers your question" you say with a smile your cheeks being as red as a tomato "yeah it does" he says before kissing you again "well I still have duties to do ill see you tomorrow?" he says backing up ready to leave "yeah" you say before tending to wing dome again a cheeky little smile on your face as you hug them tightly after all your crush for the last years has finally asked you out.

#stoick the vast #stoick the vast x reader #gn reader #dragons #how to train your dragon #how to train your dragons #stoick #httyd #httyd fandom #male reader #female reader #romantic #romance #love #short story

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aeoki · 6 months

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Sandstorm - Pointless Death Game: Chapter 12

Location: Hotel Resort Characters: Yuuta, Kouga & Rei

Yuuta: On top of that, I used my position as the only person who could speak with Sakuma-senpai and told you two to do reckless things on his behalf.

You two may not listen to what I say, but you’ll definitely do what Sakuma-senpai asks of you, right?

Rei: …………

Yuuta: That’s how I controlled everything. I gotta say, it did feel pretty nice. Felt like I was the villain in a RPG game.

Leading the wicked and mighty monsters by their chins and making them do whatever I want without needing to hold back.

Kouga: If you’re the villain, then you’re gonna be defeated by the hero in the end, ya know?

Yuuta: I suppose so. But those on the side of justice are far slower and smaller in size too. They’re restricted by a lot of things and don’t have the ability to move freely.

So until the day the angels come to pass judgement onto us arrives, we’ll be doing whatever we want.

Ill weeds grow apace – Being an earnest obedient child will achieve nothing.

I’ll take hold of what I want, even if it means turning into a bad kid. This sounds like something Rinne-senpai would say and I don’t particularly like that, though.

Kouga: Yuuta… Couldn’t that have been me? I couldn’t be your role model?

Yuuta: You’re a bit too bright for the current me, senpai.

In any case, Hinata-kun should’ve stolen all of Hakaze-senpai’s “Desert Coins” right now, as per my orders.

If he didn’t lend his “Desert Coins” and left Hakaze-senpai on his own, then things would have happened a lot quicker.

I went through quite the trouble to convey my message, so I suppose I didn’t have a good stroke of luck.

But things are finally coming to a close. The game is over.

Once the management gives the ending announcement, the game taking place in the desert will come to an end.

And every unit that doesn’t have a single “Desert Coin” will be eliminated from “SS”.

That’s the rule. As long as you have even one “Desert Coin”, you’re fine. But zero and you’re out.

It didn’t matter how many more they got afterwards. Those who were told that information probably stayed inside the safe zone right up until the last minute.

There should’ve been quite a number of those idols. The sorts of idols who aren’t worthy enough to be placed on centre stage, but it would still be a shame to eliminate them.

I’m sure the management must have told them about the circumstances too. “UNDEAD” didn’t know and I couldn’t tell Hinata-kun, either.

If Hinata-kun knew, he would definitely do whatever he can to make “UNDEAD” succeed. Even if it means paying out of his own pocket.

In reality, he did help Hakaze-senpai who had all of his “Desert Coins” taken from him. So I’d say my judgement was correct.

In any case, there wasn’t really any meaning to wandering in the harsh desert and collecting a lot of “Desert Coins”.

Once the desert game comes to an end, the “Desert Coins” will be worthless and will be nothing but commemoration medals.

As you all know, the most important thing in “SS” is “SSL$”. A few “Desert Coins” have no worth at all.

That’s why I didn’t convert most of the “SSL$” we earned through the videos into “Desert Coins”. I did send a couple from time to time.

But I saved up the rest.

After all, once the game in the desert is finished, we’ll be fighting in the main battle on stage.

The more we have for that, the better, right?

By the way, you might already know since the videos are uploaded under the “2wink” name, but all the earnings went to “2wink”.

There’s nothing for “UNDEAD”.

I was worried thinking you guys might think something was weird about that, but I suppose making Sakuma-senpai quiet played a big part in it.

You two even accepted it. And you never realised you set yourselves up.

Kouga: …………

Yuuta: But “UNDEAD” is going to be eliminated as you don’t have a single “Desert Coin” to your name.

So it’s pointless to have “SSL$” in your possession, anyway. It’s fine, right?

You can’t take money with you to the afterlife, so it'll be better used to support us, wouldn’t you say? That’s what you guys always wanted to do, right?

You want to help poor little us, don’t you? Isn’t that what you’re always saying?

Isn’t that great? Your wish has been fulfilled.

Kouga: You…

Yuuta: Ah, I know you might be feeling angry but no violence, okay?

Unlike you guys, we’re idols who have to perform on stage soon.

It’d be bad if we’re hurt.

If you wanna hit something, then hit yourselves. You were the ones who trusted us and got tricked by us. See? This is what you get for underestimating us.

Know where you stand and take a good look once more. Saying things like “We’ll protect you.” or “We’ll help you.” is just imprudent.

Ahh, that felt great. I could finally get that out.

I’ve said the same things over and over again, but I finally feel like I said it properly.

Kouga: …………

Yuuta: Oh, the management sure is quick… They’re probably listening in on our conversation.

The announcement for the end of the game in the desert is up on “Oasis Videos”. There must have been one for the people in the desert too.

I think there will be people coming to fetch us soon, so let’s start getting ready. Well, maybe you won’t really need to get ready for anything.

After all, this is where you’ll be eliminated from “SS”.

There’s no point in being ready… right?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂ Next Chapter →

#sandstorm

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commonplacelit · 8 months

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EOD handled the bombs. SSTP treated the wounds. PRP processed the bodies. The o8s fired DPICM. The MAW provided CAS. The o3s patrolled the MSRs. Me and PFC handled the money.

If a sheikh supported the ISF, we distributed CERP. If the ESB destroyed a building, we gave fair comp. If the 03s shot a civilian, we paid off the families. That meant leaving the FOB, where it's safe, and driving the MSRs.

I never wanted to leave the FOB. I never wanted to drive the MSRs or roll with 03s. PFC did. But me, when I got 3400 in boot camp, I thought, Great. I'd work in an office, be a POG. Be the POG of POGs and then go to college for business. I didn't need to get some, I needed to get the G.I. Bill. But when I was training at BSTS, they told me, You better learn this, 3400s go outside the wire. A few months later, I was strapped up, M4 in Condition 1, surrounded by o3s, backpack full of cash, twitchiest guy in Iraq.

I did twenty-four missions, some with Marine 03s, some with National Guardsmen from 2/136. My last mission was to AZD. A couple of Iraqis had driven up fast on a TCP. They ignored the EOF, the dazzlers and the warning shots, and died for it. I'd been promoted to E4, so PFC was taking over consolation payments, but I went with him to give a left-seat right-seat on working off the FOB. PFC always needed his hand held. In the HMMWV it was me, PFC, PV2 Herrera, and SGT Green. Up in the turret on the 240G was SPC Jaegermeir-Schmidt, aka J-15.

There wasn't a lot to look at on the MS south of HB. We scanned for all the different types of IEDs AQI would throw at us. IEDs made of old 122 shells, or C4, or homemade explosives. Chlorine bombs mixed with HE. VBIEDs in burned-out cars. SVBIEDs driven by lunatics. IEDs in drainage ditches or dug into the middle of the road. Some in the bodies of dead camels. Others daisy-chained together-one in the open to make you stop, another to kill you where you stand. IEDs everywhere, but most missions, nothing. Even knowing how bad the MSRs were, knowing we could die, we got bored.

PFC said, "It'd be cool to get IED'd, 'long as no one got hurt."

J-15 snapped, said, "That's bad juju, that's worse than eating the Charms in an MRE."

Temp was 121, and I remember bitching about the AC. Then the IED hit.

PV2 swerved and the HMMWV rolled. It wasn't like the HEAT trainer at Lejeune. JP-8 leaked and caught fire, burning through my MARPATs. Me and SGT Green got out, and then we pulled PV2 out by the straps of his PPE. But PV2 was uncon-scious, and I ran back for PFC, but he was on the side where the IED hit, and it was too late.

PFC's Eye Pro cracked and warped in the heat. The plastic snaps on his PPE melted. And even though J-15 left his legs. behind, at least he got CASEVAC'd to the SSTP and died on the table. PRP had to wash PFC out with Simple Green and peroxide.

The MLG awarded me a NAM with a V. Don't see too many 3400s got a NAM with a V. It's up there next to my CAR and my Purple Heart and my GWOT Expeditionary and my Sea Service and my Good Cookie and my NDS. Even 03s show respect when they see it. But give me a NAM with a V, give me the Medal of Honor, it doesn't change that I'm still breathing. And when people ask what the NAM is for, I say it's so I don't feel bad that I was too slow for PFC.

In boot camp, the DIs teach you Medal of Honor stories.Most recipients were KIA. Their families didn't get a. homecoming, they got a CACO knocking on their door. They got SGLI. They got a trip to Dover to see Marines lift the remains out of a C-130. They got a closed casket, because IEDs and SAF don't leave pretty corpses. The DIs tell you these stories over and over, and even a POG like me knows what they mean.

So I tell my family, "I'm staying in-the G.I. Bill can wait." And I tell my OIC, "Sir, I want to go to OEF. OEF's where the fight is now." And I tell my girlfriend, "Okay, leave me." And I tell PFC, "I wish it'd been me," even though I don't mean it.

I'm going to OEF. As a 3400. As a POG, but a POG with experience. I'll distribute CERP again. I'll roll with 03s again. And maybe I'll get IED'd again. But this time, out on the MSRs, I will be terrified.

I will remember the sounds PFC made. I will remember that I was his NCO, so he was my responsibility. And I will remember PFC himself as though I loved him. So I won't really remember PFC at all--not why I gave him low PRO/CONs, not why I told him he'd never make E4.

Instead I will remember that our HMMWV had 5 PX. That the SITREP was 2 KIA, 3 WIA. That KIA means they gave everything. That WIA means I didn't.

Phil Klay, “OIF.”

#Phil Klay

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smol-and-grumpy · 3 years

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What I Want Most - Five

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean’s life has been all work and no play lately. When Gabe, his friend, coerced him into tagging along to a club, he couldn’t say no as Gabe has been pestering him for a while now. What Dean didn’t expect was that he’d meet his match in that club in the form of a stunning woman with underlying daddy issues.

Warnings: Daddy kink (by now, this is a given), rivalry in the office, office sex, semi-public sex, blow job

Word Count: 1924

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

In the morning, Dean’s in their office, touching up his own presentation for tomorrow. He steals a glance at the clock, it’s almost 8.40 AM. It’s almost time for her presentation and Y/N’s still not here.

He wonders if he went too far.

Well, she still has about ten minutes before she has to be in the meeting room to set everything up. And if she’s not going to be here, he’ll make sure to waltz in there and bring up a sorry excuse to steal some time. He’s not a monster after all, it was just supposed to be a little prank.

Last night, after she fell asleep, Dean manipulated her alarm, setting the alarm later than she wanted to get up. Like, not too late that she’d miss the meeting, but late enough so that she won’t have a lot of time to get herself ready.

He set his own alarm and placed his phone under the pillow so he would wake up as soon as it started to vibrate. He did get up. Sneaked his way out of her apartment and left her there, still sound asleep.

Dean’s typing away at the email, it’s 8.47 AM now.

Three minutes until he has to save her ass.

That cute little sweet ass, though.

A minute later, the door opens and she’s looking at him. Her hair’s put together but there’s no trace of makeup. She also wears glasses, god and he didn’t even know this about her but fuck, she looks super cute with her glasses. These, paired with her being angry, is really what his librarian dreams are made of.

Maybe he could ask her to role play it once.

But yeah, maybe he could ask when she’s not mad at him anymore.

He ignores her, stares meticulously into his screen.

Walking in, she drops her laptop bag and pulls out her laptop wordlessly.

Dean risks a glance up, sees her staring at him. Her eyes are narrow.

He smirks, “You look worse for wear. Had a rough night, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you,” She mumbles and proceeds to walk to the door.

“Well,” Dean starts, but stops because she turns around and sends him a glare.

“I hate you so much right now,”

The door closes with a bang.

Oh well, this went super great. He doesn’t know if he should be scared that she’s so fucking mad at him or prank her some more because she’s so cute when she’s mad.

Oh my god, Y/N absolutely hates Dean fucking Winchester.

He made her late but he at least set the alarm early enough for her to be able to make it. But still... that doesn’t mean that he deserves a fucking medal, though.

The presentation went well, so at least she has that, but she’s still mad at him so if he wants to get his dick wet, he can find someone else. She’s so fucking done.

Back in the office, she is glad that Dean was out at another meeting, so at least she has a breather.

Dean showed up thirty minutes later with a cup of coffee for her and she doesn’t know but she has a very hard time trusting it. So she looks at the coffee and up at him.

“What?” He asks because she still hasn’t said a word, “You think I want to poison you or something?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” She shrugs and returns to her screen and types something on her keyboard.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” He growls and squats down next to her, “I’m sorry, okay? I thought a little competition is healthy. A little prank here and there. I wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardize your career in any way,”

“I almost missed my meeting,” She said drily, trying not to look at him.

“Yeah! There you have it. Almost!”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but it doesn’t make it sound any better,”

“My god,” Dean threads his hand through his hair, “You know what? I’m done apologizing,” He walks over to his own desk and sits down, “They are singing your praises. I was in the elevator with one of the execs who was at your presentation. So, even though I made you late, I didn’t make you miss it,”

“It still doesn’t make it right, Dean,”

“Whatever,” He snorts and she can tell that he’s moping. He probably feels guilty.

Maybe she’s being too harsh. He played a prank, she played a prank, and he was right, it didn’t do a lot of damage but still…

It was about two hours of silent treatment later that she got up to walk over to the folder cabinet in search of a folder she needed, but she couldn’t find it. The space where it should be is empty.

Turning around, she sees that Dean’s using it. He’s probably working on the same thing as she is, which is due in the afternoon.

Y/N sighs and goes back to her desk, deciding to work on something else until he’s finished, but after thirty minutes have passed, he’s still hogging it.

“Jesus, are you done with the folder? It can’t be so hard to find the two numbers in there that you need, can it?”

He rolls his chair to the side to be able to look past his screen at her, “You need something, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, that damn folder! You’ve been hogging it for way too long,”

Dean cocks an eyebrow, “You want it?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I want your pussy but that’s not something I get tonight, do I?” He chuckles, “Sometimes we don’t get what we want, baby,” Getting up from behind his desk, Dean picks up the folder and walks over to her, “You can be glad I have a conference call with England now,” He sets the folder on her desk and walks back, nodding at her as he places his headphones over his head.

He’s probably trying to make peace and ugh, it’s almost impossible for her to stay mad. Damn him and his look and the way he talks and walks.

While Dean dials himself into the conference call, she quickly picks out the numbers she needs and returns the file back to his desk. He’s still listening in to the call but tilts his head up to smile at her. His teeth are showing white, the crinkles around his eyes are deep and god, he looks so cute with all the freckles on his face.

Returning to her seat, she listens in as Dean speaks. He’s really good at what he’s doing, and to be honest, she doesn’t even know if she’d have a chance against him. It’s a little disheartening thinking about it.

Y/N has to remind herself that it’s not really his fault. It wasn’t him who decided that he has to fight for a position that’s rightfully his. And he’s been helping a lot. At least, he did with the presentation she was having today. So, when it comes to him as a person, and when she puts the office rivalry aside, he is a good guy and she should definitely cut him some slack.

After finishing her report, she sees that the conference call should last another ten minutes. With a grin, she lowers herself under her desk and crawls over to where Dean’s sitting. Dean’s legs are spread and he drums on the floor with his shoe. He doesn’t know that she’s down here, but he will soon.

Placing her hands on his thighs, she can hear him mutter something and can feel his body go stiff.

“Yeah, I’m listening,” Dean mumbles.

With a chuckle, she skids her nails along his thighs, until she reaches his belt buckle and quickly undoes it, trying not to let it clink too loudly. Her fingers work on his button next, pulling the zipper down after.

Her hand goes inside his pants, takes out his dick that’s still soft but it twitches in her fist and it slowly starts to grow at her touch. Dean shudders when she breathes warm air against it.

“Jesus,” He whispers, “No, I’m sorry, just stubbed my toes,” He says above.

She has to chuckle at that and then she sticks her tongue out, licks a broad stripe from the base to his tip. Dean doesn’t make a sound, but his legs are slightly trembling. He’s probably trying to keep himself together.

Sucking in the tip of his cock, she lets it out with an audible popping sound. The taste of him is strong in her mouth. She absolutely loves how he tastes, it makes her mouth water some more.

The more precum is leaking out of him, the stronger his scent is and it fills her nose, clouds her mind. It’s fucking intoxicating.

Y/N takes him in her mouth again, bobs her head up and down and tries her best not to make too much of a sound. Dean’s saying something, but she doesn’t listen. She’s so into it that her mind tunes out all the other sounds and senses. All she feels and tastes is Dean.

With one hand she jerks him off where her mouth can’t reach in this position. With her other hand, she cradles his balls in her palms, giving them some attention and there might have been another moan.

Humming around his girth, she gobbles him down, sucks a bit harsher at the tip before she swirls her tongue around the underside of it before she takes him in again. It seems like Dean is close because his balls are jumping in her palm and he tries to fuck up into her mouth.

“Alright, thank you for your time, bye,” He finishes the call and she can hear how strained it sounds.

“Fuck,” Is the next thing she hears before she feels a hand on the back of her head, holding her down on his cock while he pushes his hips up to meet her mouth. He thrusts a couple of times and then she hears the familiar growl, feels the warmth of the cum flooding her throat and mouth.

She swallows it all down, licks at his tip and sucks at it again, making sure she catches every last drop. She cleans his shaft too, swirls her tongue around. When she finishes, she smacks her lips and Dean rolls his chair back, looks down at her.

He reaches out, his thumb caressing her cheek, before they brush over her lips, and she bites at it, making him chuckle, “Baby,” Dean’s still trying to catch his breath, “Fuck, was that to tell me you’re not mad at me anymore?”

Y/N nods.

Pulling her up by her arm, he places her into his lap and kisses her soft and gentle, “I’m glad. I could also fucking eat you up right now, but we know that’s not possible,”

“Well, you don’t know if you don’t try, right?” She grins.

“Don’t fucking tempt me. Otherwise, neither one of us will have a job by the end of the week,” He kisses her cheek before he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck. She feels him breathing in the scent of her skin, “I’m sorry about this morning, okay? It was just a silly prank,”

“I know,”

“Does that mean daddy can take you home tonight? Reward you for the good girl you are?”

She grins with a nod of her head.

Six

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

#what i want most #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

Text

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 27

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"So it's safe now?" I asked into the phone, a little less enthusiastic as I would have been four years ago. Four. Years. In those four years, I had moved out of Castle McLeod, gotten my own little cottage on the mainland, and Nicholas has been taking Gaelic classes to prepare him for school next year. But it seemed that they were unnecessary now.

"Yeah, now it's finally safe." Scott said, nervously.

"Scott, have you looked at a calendar?"

“A lot of stuff has happened!”

“I’m well aware of that. Including stuff I should have been there for.” Nothing like hearing your best friend was possessed by a Nogitsune. I sighed, happy at least that I could come home. I had the paperwork done for months, it took almost four years to get the paperwork for Nicholas’ citizenship. It’s almost as if the United States was making it harder and harder for people to enter the country.

“Alright, I’ll pick up Michael from work and get Nicholas in the car.”

“You’re bringing Michael?”

“Yeah, I have to. He’s my bodyguard.”

“Derek’s not gonna like that.”

“Yeah well, I wouldn’t know that would I?” I snapped. Derek had become a touchy subject in the house. Considering that I hadn’t heard from him in three years.

“Okay, okay, but Derek said-”

“I don’t care what Derek said. I don’t.” I put on a smile when I saw Nicholas walk in, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I hung up before he could continue. I slid my phone in my back pocket and grinned down at my son.

“Guess what, sweetie.”

“Wha?” He asked, his green eyes wide. His long, dark hair in his eyes. He picked up an accent from living here, mostly from Lachlan who had become his favorite person.

Bending down, I swept the hair away from his eyes, “We’re gonna move to America. We get to see mama’s family.”

“Really?!” He started bouncing up and down.

“Yeah!” I picked him up in my arms and held him close, “Uncle Stiles and Grandpa Noah and Uncle Scott.” I paused, trying to figure out how to add his other family in without him asking questions, “All of them.”

“Yay!” He cheered. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, I carried him into his room and started to pack his bag.

"Hey, darlin'." Michael sat down in the passenger seat of my rental car, pressing a kiss to my cheek before looking back, "Sin mo bhalach! (There’s my boy)." I really wasn’t a fan of these but he was trying to keep up appearances for the locals that we were just a little family.

"Bidh thu a ’sabaid ris na droch ghillean, Mikey?(You fight the bad guys?)" Nicholas was almost fluent in Scottish Gaelic. Sometimes, he spoke words that I didn’t even know yet.

"I sure did, bud!" He smiled and then looked back at me, "You wouldn't believe what we went through today. Rouge teenage werewolf pack, no alpha. Major power struggle. We put them in detainment and we're looking into a pack that'll take them in."

"Yeah sounds... Fun." He was in his maroon uniform that Lachlan created for all Lunar Circle bodyguards; it looked like a cross between the Green Berets and navy camo. On his breast pocket was a bronze and gold wolf-print medal.

"What's wrong, darlin?" He asked. I looked behind and pressed the screen icon on the touch screen on the dash.

"Hey, honey.” I looked back at Nicholas in the rearview mirror, “Why don't you watch a movie? Yeah?" He nodded with a grin, putting on his blue earmuffs with built in sound protection and happily started watching whatever movie I had put in the DVD player, Strange Magic I think.

“What is it?"

"Well, first: you don’t have to call me darlin when we’re alone.” I glanced at him and then the road, Two, Scott called. It's safe to go back home." I looked back at Nicholas in the mirror, he looked so peaceful. Just humming along to whatever was playing.

"And I want to see Uncle Noah and Stiles."

Michael stared out the window, "And Derek too, I'm assuming.” He said grimly, “(Y/N), I thought you were over him. I thought we were finally moving on with our lives. Are you playing with my emotions-"

"Do you think this is a game? I love my life here, but I need to see my family. I want him to know his family outside of a computer screen. And if that means he sees Derek, then he will."

"Alright, alright, fine. Let's go back. I gotta pack-"

"Oh, already did that. Clothes packed, Lachlan’s having the rest shipped on his freighter.”

He chuckled, "Figured. You're always prepared." Michael smiled, looking back at Nicholas who was halfway asleep, struggling not to drop his sippy cup.

"What are we going to do about Derek?" He asked.

Sighing, my shoulders slumped, "I don't know, Mikey. I really don't."

Lachlan met us at the airport to see us off. Well, more to see Nicholas off. Since he was born, Lachlan had gone above and beyond for the little boy. From boat rides, to swimming in Loch Ness, to whatever toy his little heart desired. The Praetor spoiled him for sure.

“He’s got everything?” Lachlan asked nervously, “All his clothes? Does he have puppy dog because you know he can’t sleep without it-”

“Lachlan, relax.” I held onto his shoulders, “Nicholas has everything he needs.”

“I’m just nervous.” Lachlan said, looking over as Nicholas slept on Michael’s lap, “I don’t know what we’ll do without him.”

“You mean you don’t know what you’ll do?” I lightly punched his shoulder.

He sighed, “I just... You two are family to me. The family that I never got to have.” He looked back at me, “Maybe I should come with you. I’ve never been to America before. Plus, our ground team of security has already been dispatched to Beacon Hills.”

“We’ll be safe. It’s finally safe back there.” I smiled. Lachlan sighed loudly, combing his hair back from his face when the overhead voice called for us to board our flight.

“Okay.” He mumbled, walking over to sleeping Nicholas and taking him into his arms.

“I’ll see you soon, kiddo.” He kissed the top of his head. Nicholas mumbled something in his sleep, tightening his grip on his wolf plush - puppy dog.

"There she is!" Uncle Noah walked out of the house, arms wide. I squealed, running up the driveway and into his arms. He squeezed me tight, swaying us from side to side. Uncle Noah smelled like home, something that I had missed for so long. He sniffled a little, pulling away to look down at me.

"Awh sweetheart..." He held my cheeks, wiping away happy tears.

"Happy tears, happy tears." I hiccupped, looking back at Michael who got a sleepy Nicholas out of his car seat.

"Stiles off being an FBI man?" I chuckled.

"You bet, but he's gonna be home soon."

Once Nicholas rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, they opened wide when he saw Uncle Noah.

"Grandpa!" He ran up, replacing me in Uncle Noah's arms.

"Look how big you are!" He said through a grin, "Oh I have waited for so long to hug on you." He startled tickling the little boy, causing a fit of giggles.

"Let's get you guys inside, I bet you're starving." He led us inside, Nicholas talking his ear off.

Dinner was good, but anything would be good since we had been eating Scottish cuisine for the last four years. Not that I didn't like the food there, it's just that nothing beat the tastes of home.

After dinner, Nicholas had crashed in the middle of the living room floor. Even after a cross-continental flight, he had enough energy to stay up way past his bedtime back home to talk and place with all the toys that Grandpa had bought him. Oddly enough, it was around that he would go to bed time-wise. Lachlan said that werewolves had an internal clock and always knew when to wake up and when to sleep. Yeah, tell that to all the sleepless nights in the first few months of his life.

Michael patted my hand and stood up, going into the living room and oh so carefully picked up the sleeping boy and took him upstairs to my old room. Leaving Uncle Noah and I with our coffee.

"Still nothing from Derek, huh?"

"Nada. Nicholas has never really asked."

"Does he think Michael's his dad?" He said over a sip from his mug.

"Oh absolutely not. As far as he knows, his dad is off having great adventures. That's what he's come up with."

"I thought you said Derek was going to be a part of his life."

"He was." I sipped my now cold coffee, "He tried for a while. He used to video call us for a couple months."

"There's daddy." I held the four month old in front of the camera as soon as Derek's face filled the screen. Nicholas made a cooing noise and reached for the screen with little grabby hands. Derek grinned brightly, the special twinkle in his eye that made my soul want to melt.

"There's my boy." His eyes searched the screen, "He still has so much hair."

I nodded, "Yeap. All thanks to you, Sasquatch." I sat the baby boy on my lap and kissed the top of his head. My attention was brought back to Derek where he was just staring at us with so much love and adoration that I wanted nothing more than to fly back to Beacon Hills.

"Did you get my package?" He asked, referring to the large box full of toys, clothes, pictures and random items that he was completely spoiling our child with.

"If you mean all the toys, yeah, we got it." I smiled, "He's in love with that little wolf plush. He can't sleep without it." As if on cue, Nicholas started whining until he was given the toy which was beside us on the bed. When I gave it he promptly started gumming on the ear.

"Yeah, I thought he might." He leaned on his hand and watched him, "Cora said that it was cliché but I don't care." Then he sat up like he had thought of something.

"What about your gift?" He leaned in towards the screen.

I shook my head and smiled, "I'm wearing it, aren't I?" I tugged at the hem of the shirt I was wearing. It was one of his black t-shirts, one that hadn't been torn or soiled with blood. It smelled just like him and I had been wearing it at night to sleep.

"Has he started showing any signs?"

I looked down at my baby, "Not that I can think of. But he's only a couple months old. Lachlan said that if he hasn't shown signs now, he may have the dormant gene. Since I was a werewolf when he was conceived he should more than likely be one. But no dice, he sleeps all night during the full moon. Or, that's what Michael tells me." He scoffed.

"What?"

"I guess Michael's the expert now."

"Derek, we're not doing this again." Michael was a touchy subject.

"You know what?" He said, "I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow." The video call ended.

"And that's the last time I heard from him." I got up and poured my cold coffee in the sink and started rinsing out the mug.

"That doesn't sound like Derek." He looked back at me, "But... It will be nice having people in the house again. With Stiles being gone all the time. Nicholas is great." He grinned, "A little rambunctious, but he's pretty great."

"You're telling me." I leaned against the counter after I turned off the sink, "His first word was momma. After that he started getting better and better. Talking all the time. He's almost fluent in Gaelic." I added, "Lachlan basically started a preschool program for the other kids after he was born. And while he's at preschool, I am leading their research team on the negative effects of the Wolf Eclipse spell and the intergenerational trauma that comes from it."

"Well look at that, my little girl, head of the research team." He stood up and walked to the sink, rinsing his cup and leaving it there.

"Just no big deal." I smirked.

"So when is Derek coming?" He asked, leaning against the counter.

I inhaled through my teeth and shrugged, "He doesn't know we're here. I've been trying to figure out how to talk to him since we got on the plane."

"Oh..." Uncle Noah grimaced, "Cause ya see, Stiles is working with Derek on something. And Derek's been staying here."

My eyes widened in shock, and my head whipped around just in time for the door to open. Stiles stood in the doorway, dressed in a collared shirt, tie, black slacks and dress shoes. I had not seen him this dressed up in a decade. But my focus was on the werewolf standing behind him, staring right back at me. He hadn't changed a bit, not that I expected him to look so different. But I hadn't heard from him in so long that he almost felt like a different person. Not even our connection could travel that far so seeing him now was strange. The connection we had was back again, my heart felt full after feeling half empty for so long. I was back where we started four years ago, the familiar strangers.

"God dammit." I whispered to myself before smiling awkwardly, "Uh... Surprise?"

"(Y/N)... Hey..." Stiles said in his Stiles fashion of being incredibly awkward. He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting from me to Derek.

Derek had not taken his eyes off of me, just kept on staring on in confusion. It was like he couldn't fathom that I was actually standing in the kitchen.

"Where is he?" He asked softly.

“I-...” I had come up with some many things to say to him. I had even written them down. But they went poof out of my memory.

"Where is he?" His eyes changed color, but his eyes weren't alpha red, no. They were beta yellow again. He had lost his alpha status... But how. And how come they weren’t blue anymore? Obviously, Scott and Stiles had missed a few details. His eyes scanned the room and locked on Nicholas’ dinosaur sippy cup that he left on the table. That was all he needed before he started for the stairs. I blocked his path to the stairs, flashing my red eyes at him to show dominance. He couldn’t go past me, I was the alpha here.

Or, at least, that’s what I thought. When it came to his child, Derek Hale would stop at nothing to get to him. I would admire that if he wasn’t trying to get around me to get upstairs. He grabbed me by the arms, throwing me back towards the living room, storming up the stairs. I scrambled to follow, Stiles and Uncle Noah behind me, calling for him to stop.

When I made it up the stairs, I found him staring into the open doorway of my bedroom. He had an expression I couldn’t read, but his emotions came flooding out in anger and betrayal. Since he was distracted, I grabbed him by the back of his neck and threw him to the ground. He pulled me with him, flipping us so that he was on top, roaring down at me.

“Why did you keep him from me?!”

“You kept him from yourself!” I roared back.

“Mommy!” We both looked towards the doorway where Nicholas stood. He was wearing little footie pajamas, clutching onto his wolf. He was trembling at what he was witnessing.

Derek growled, sitting up quickly. I grabbed his arm, trying to get up. He had caught me so off guard that I was scrambling to keep up. He glared back, shoving me into the wall and walking towards the door. Nicholas screamed, running back into the room.

“YOU’RE SCARING HIM!” I screamed, reaching out. In his rage, I don’t think he realized what he was doing.

Then there was a pop and Derek fell on his back, a tranquillizer dart in his neck. I looked up, seeing Michael with the gun in one hand and crying Nicholas in the other. I stood up quickly, taking Nicholas in my arms, holding him close.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s here. Everything’s alright.” I tried to sound reassuring, but it was hard too when I was looking down at my child’s father on the floor.

"It took a while but Nicholas went down. I was with him until he fell asleep." I slumped down on the couch next to Stiles. Stiles wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. I missed moments like this.

“I should have killed him.” Michael grumbled, pacing in front of us. Derek was tied up and sat against the wall. He was still passed out, he would be for a while. In the meantime, we need to figure out what we were going to do with him.

“Alright, cool it, dude.” Stiles narrowed his eyes up at him. He said that he still didn’t like Michael. Truth is, I didn’t either. A lot of things were still unclear, even now.

“We all just need to calm down and figure out what we’re doing.” Uncle Noah said, leaning forward in his recliner chair.

“Look, we just need to let him wake up and...” I sighed and leaned my head on Stiles’ shoulder, “I just need to talk to him, figure out what happened.”

Uncle Noah looked between Michael and I, “He told us that he-”

“It doesn’t matter what he told you.” Michael snapped. I looked up at him, narrowing my eyes.

“Watch your tone.” I said sternly. Michael sighed, sitting on the couch beside me, putting a hand on my knee. Stiles and I stared at his hand. I grabbed his hand and put it on his own knee.

"What?" He asked in an exasperated way.

"Please, we can't do that right now." It wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. But I don't really care about that. All I know is that we need to talk to Derek in a controlled environment. Which, unfortunately, was the last place I wanted to be.

"We need to bring him to the bunker in the Hale House.” Michael said.

I winced, "Do we have to? It's just..." I thought back to the day where I thought Derek and I were going to die. I thought our last moments together would be pain and ache from seeing each other die.

“(Y/N), he just traumatized Nicholas. I don't give a shit if he has PTSD. He's not under the protection of the Lunar Circle, his safety and well-being is not my priority." He stood and walked to Derek, ready to grab him.

“Wait a minute.” Michael stopped at my voice, his eyes darting from me to the sheriff, “Uncle Noah.” I turned towards him, “What did Derek say?”

“That doesn’t matter.” Michael said quickly.

“She isn't talking to you.” Stiles said, standing up and moving between Michael and I. I looked at Uncle Noah.

“What did he say?” I asked calmly.

Uncle Noah sat back in his recliner, “Well...” He rolled his shoulders back, “Derek said that he was frustrated that he couldn’t get ahold of you. And when he tried to go through Michael, he said not to call because you didn’t want to talk to him.” I smiled to myself, clicking my tongue. I turned to Michael, my smile falling and my eyes burning red.

“Did I?” I chuckled, “I had no idea.” I stood up and stalked forward, shoving Michael, “You kept him from calling us, didn’t you?”

Michael raised his hands in surrender, “You just seemed so angry with him after that call, I thought-”

“No, you didn’t think.” I interrupted, “You selfish son of a bitch.”

“I am doing what’s best for Nicholas.” He shot back.

“Whoa whoa.” Uncle Noah got between the two of us, “Put the claws away.” Stiles pulled me away from the situation, leading me outside. He brought me to the backyard, the cool night air felt nice against the hot anger I felt.

“Thanks for taking me out of there.” I smiled, “I probably would have killed him.”

“Trust me, the thought crossed my mind.” Stiles shoved his hands in his pockets, “I mean,” He shrugged, “It wouldn’t be so horrible if ended up in a ditch somewhere. He’s a murderer on the run for four years, I feel like it would be fine.”

I laughed, pulling him close into a tight hug, “I missed you.”

He smiled, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, “I missed you too.”

The next morning, Stiles, Scott, and I met outside the Hale House cellar. Michael was already there, having taken Derek down already to ‘secure’ him.

“Well, if it isn’t Scott McCall.” I said, spotting the alpha. The computer screen didn’t do him justice. He had grown so much in four years. He had a new energy about him, he wasn’t a curly haired boy anymore.

“(Y/N).” He grinned, pulling me into a quick hug, “I was gonna visit yesterday to surprise you but Stiles said it was a bad idea.”

“Very bad idea.” I looked towards the entrance of the cellar. Going back in there was going to bring up memories, I could almost feel the phantom pains from the acid on my legs.

“You okay?” Stiles asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“I got this.” I smiled back at both of them, “I got my boys with me.”

Walking through the tunnels to the cellar was more than enough to give me nightmares for a long time. But Michael was right about one thing: we needed to tell Derek what was going on in a controlled environment.

By the time we got down to the main area, Michael was putting the handcuffs on Derek, leaving him chained to the wall surrounded by mountain ash.

“You brought back up, huh?” Michael asked, shoving the bottle of mountain ash in his pocket.

“I brought my friends. Derek will feel more comfortable around people he trusts. I would be one of them, no thanks to you.” I looked back at Derek, "He'll be awake soon?"

Michael only nodded.

"Will he be okay? This won't hurt him, right?" He turned to me and glared.

"You're still in love with this asshole, aren't you?" He growled, "After everything he's done to you? After everything we," He motioned between us, "Have been through? After I have spent four years of our lives taking care of our child? You still care about this sack of garbage." Scott and Stiles stepped forward, I stretched my arms out to keep them from moving.

I narrowed my eyes at him, “Michael-”

"No, you're going to listen to me!" He shouted, "I can't believe you. You went through all his shit and you still love him? You still love that stupid son of a bitch. You see this?" He motioned to Derek, "You see this asshole? Who scared the shit out of our baby? You didn't see what I saw. He was screaming and crying out for me, begging me to save you, begging his father to save you from the bad man. Even he can tell who loves him, who his real father is!"

“The.." We all looked at Derek, who was just starting to wake up, "The hell do you mean," He began to growl, beginning to shift, "His father?" Derek stood up, a little wobbly at first but he stood strong. He had also shifted form. “Nicholas is my son! My flesh and blood! My family! You kept him from me, you kept both of them from me!" He roared and stood, pulling at the chains.

"You left them behind because of all your jealousy. I took care of him! I've protected him from everything, and for the rest of my life, I will protect him from you!" Michael pointed, barking his words harshly.

Suddenly, Derek broke his chains, "I'll kill you!" He pushed against the mountain ash barrier. Scott rushed forward to keep Derek at bay while Stiles started a shouting match with Michael. All of this shouting began to overload my senses. I hadn’t felt like this since the spell broke all those years ago. I had to do something, and I had to do it now.

"ENOUGH!" I roared, making the walls shake and thankfully bringing their attention to me, "No more talking, I'm talking now." They all shut up and looked up at me.

“Michael, I’m not even going to get started with you since this whole situation is your goddamn fault.” I rubbed at my temples, “The only reason that I am even still entertaining you being here is because of my son. Mine. Not yours.” I looked at Derek, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that Michael had cut off our communication.”

“So he told you?” Derek continued to glare at Michael.

“No, I had to figure it out for myself.” I walked towards the barrier, my heart beat rising, “You deserved to be a part of his life from the beginning. I should have fought more.” I took a deep breath, “I should have fought for us.”

“It’s not your fault.” He said softly. Stiles walked towards us, breaking the barrier with his shoe.

The force of Derek’s arms wrapping around me nearly knocked me over. His strong arms held me tightly against his chest. I could feel his heart pumping against his chest. One arm was wrapped around my wait, his other hand cradling the back of my head like I would break. I wrapped my arms around him with the same force, if not more. He was so warm, I could almost feel his heat melting away the sadness I had felt for four years. Honestly, I wanted the whole world to fall away at that moment, it felt like I was falling in love with him all over again starting from the time we were teenagers.

The game was in its final minutes, we were behind by two points. One shot from the three point line and they would win. After the toss up, the opposing team got the ball, leading to our hoop. Derek's teammate quickly weaved through the other players, intercepting the ball and passing it to Derek. I stood up with the rest of the crowd, my whole body tensing up as the clock ticked down. He shot the ball.

Watching Derek play basketball was almost as nerve wracking as being on the lacrosse field. It took everything in me not to make call outs to him. I was bouncing my feet instead of my usual finger twiddling since my arm had been torn up yesterday. Laura had to practically hold me in my seat from her spot besides me. It was a training incident that had gone wrong. Derek had his claws out while I had our training shield. I had gotten distracted and Derek scratched me by accident. My parents were pissed.

Three...

Two...

One...

The ball rolled around the rim and then fell through the basket.

I cheered, raising my arms in the air, ignoring the pain from my cuts. The team surrounded him, jumping up and down in excitement. Derek looked up at the stands, pointing towards, realistically both of us but I felt like it was right at me. My heart fluttered a bit and I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt. My cheeks burned hot.

“You blushing, (Y/N/N)?” Laura smirked, looking down at me.

“What?” My eyes widened, “No.” I started rubbing my cheeks in circles, but Laura stopped me by grabbing my hands and carefully putting them to my sides. Which was helpful since it was starting to hurt my arm.

“Chill out.” She smiled, nodding her head towards the exit, “Let’s go see the big winner.” I nodded, focusing more on hiding my blush than walking so Laura helped me off the bleachers and outside.

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Read part 28 here!

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#derek hale fic #derek hale x reader #teen wolf fic #teen wolf x reader

31 notes · View notes

imagineyourworld · 3 years

Note

Hey there! Could I request g. with Luke Skywalker with an inquisitor reader? Congrats on reaching 100, can't wait to read more of your work!

Hi,

Thank you so much <3

That's a really interesting request, I hope I can do it justice.

Love, Charlie

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Luke Skywalker x Genderneutral!Inquisitor!Reader

g. "Sorry doesn't fix everything."

Warnings: Slight age difference (just a couple of years, not specified), kinda self-harm, but not really

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You didn't consider yourself anyone special. You were one of many, one of many children orphaned during the end of the Clone Wars or the beginning of the Empire, one of many cadets in the Imperial Academy, one of many singled out on your fifteenth birthday for 'special training'. It wasn't until you turned eighteen and were sent on your first mission, the only one of your squad to ever receive a mission at all, that you realized that maybe there was something special about you, though you only managed to put it in words once none other than Grand Moff Tarkin, the Grand Moff Tarkin, pinned a medal on your chest and congratulated you to your promotion. That's when you realized that you were special, you were one of only a handful of Inquisitors, chosen and trained to rid the galaxy of the few remaining Jedi or those who still had faith in the doomed order, those whose abilities were too dangerous to let them live. You were good at what you did, if not one of the best, and had countless medals to prove it. Maybe that's why your next mission came from very high up, from Darth Vader himself. The day you met the second most powerful man in the galaxy would change your life forever, though whether for better or for worse you would never be able to tell.

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Vader had sent you to what had to be the worst planet you have visited so far. Tatooine was nothing but a pile of sand, two burning suns and more criminals and low lives than you cared to count. Though for someone high up in the empire, who received a generous salary, it wasn't too bad. Rent and food were cheaper than other places, so you allowed yourself the rare luxury of renting a small suite in one of the better hotels the planet had to offer. The mission itself was simple, all you had to do was listen to locals and maybe ask a few inconspicuous questions to find out whether there were any Jedi sympathizers left in this corner of the galaxy. That's how you met him, and how your life changed once more. Luke Skywalker quite literally ran into you the first time you visited a place called Tosche station. He was just leaving as you were entering, and since he wasn't paying attention to where he was going and you had no space to move to the side the two of you collided. Luke managed to stay on his feet, but you began to stumble and fall, only to suddenly find yourself in his arms. Wow, that kid has fast reflexes, was the first thing you thought, but once you got a closer look at him you realized that he was no kid, at the most he was a couple of years younger than you, though his out of style clothes and long hair made him appear younger than is actual age. "I am so sorry, I wasn't paying attention. Are you alright?", he asked, his arms still around you and concern in his eyes. You didn't know what it was, but there was something about him that made you stare just a moment longer, and heat rise up to your cheeks. "I'm fine. But I might feel better if you bought me a drink", you replied. Your keen eyes noticed the blush that crept up his face at your words. His reaction, and the overall lack of young people, let alone attractive young people, on this planet made it obvious that he wasn’t used to flirting, which brought out a strange sense of accomplishment and possessiveness in you. “Just wait here, I’ll get us something to drink and I know a shady place to sit down”, he told you before disappearing in the crowd.

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True to his word Luke reappeared a moment later and lead you to what seemed to be an abandoned farm a short distance away. That’s where the two of you settled and only when the suns began to set did you get back up. You didn’t remember the last time you have had a conversation like this, talking about everything and nothing. In just one short afternoon you learned more about Luke than you knew about most of your fellow cadets back at the academy. He was an orphan, living with his aunt and uncle on their moisture farm and though the two of them were happy with that life, Luke wanted more, he wanted to see the galaxy, a sentiment you could understand more than he knew. Luke was all of the things the people in your life weren’t; open and honest, sweet and funny, warm as the two suns above and quite good looking on top of it. In retrospect you should have known that it wouldn’t take Luke long to find a place in your heart, and your frequent meetings that followed after your first day together certainly didn’t help. Luke was your first kiss, only a week after you first met him in the Tatooine desert with gleaming stars and a bright moon above. He was the first one you told about your past, at least a few basics. You told him that you were an orphan, that your parents had been killed during the last few days of the Clone Wars and that you have been on your own since you were a baby. You told him about the loneliness and fears you usually kept bottled up and your unrealistic dreams for the future. Luke was the first you slept with, back in your hotel suite, after you had treated him to a dinner nicer than any he has had back on the farm. It wasn’t like what your peers had told you sex was like, it was sweet and passionate and lovely. And even though you tried your best not to, Luke was the first person you ever fell in love with, the first you cared about, other than the memory of parents you didn’t even remember if you were being honest. Your relationship with Luke was both the only real thing and the biggest lie in your life. He had told you everything about himself, but you had no choice but to keep lying to him again and again, no matter how much it hurt. Maybe that’s why part of you was glad when, after once again reporting that there was nothing unusual on Tatooine, you were told your mission was over and you should report to the Death Star. When you told Luke that you’d have to leave the next day he kissed you in his unique sweet way and whispered the three words you have come to cherish against your lips. “In that case I think I should give this to you now. I had been planning to wait til our one year anniversary next month, but I guess that doesn’t matter now”, he mumbled, speaking more to himself than to you. Before you could ask what he was talking about he pulled a small box out of the messenger back he usually carried with him. Gently he opened the box to reveal the most stunning bracelet you have ever seen. “It was my mother’s, one of the few things I have of hers. I want you to have it.” You lifted the bracelet out of its box, admiring how the stones shone in the soft light of the candles around your suite. “Luke...”, you said, trying your best not to let your voice break. “I cannot accept this.” You lowered the bracelet to put it back in the box, but before you could Luke took your hand in his and used his other hand to close your finger on top of it. “I want you to have it, I really do. To remember me by. Besides, the colour really doesn’t suit me.” You couldn’t fight the smile that found its way to your lips at his bad joke, neither the tears that appeared in your eyes. It really was time for you to leave this planet, to leave Luke, if you didn’t do it soon you feared you never would. “Thank you. I won’t take this off, I promise”, you vowed as he gently fastened the bracelet around your wrist and then pressed a soft kiss on your pulse point. “I love you”, he said with a sad smile. Only then did it occur to you that he had said it multiple times now, almost every day ever since the first time he had said it almost seven months ago, but never once did you say the words back. Maybe it was fitting that the only time you told him how you felt about him was when saying goodbye. “I love you too, Luke.”

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Soon after your return to the Empire, and your first visit to the infamous Death Star, did you realize why you had been called back so suddenly. The war against the rebels was picking up pace and the Empire could use all the help it could get. The next year was busy, you were no longer sent on solo missions but rather trained with the elite forces, taught to fly and shoot instead of fighting with your lightsaber, and then it suddenly stopped. After the Battle of Yavin the Empire had to regroup, rethink its strategies, and fight a new opponent. “We have information about an old Jedi temple, you will leave tomorrow and destroy it”, Grand Moff Tarkin informed you in his usual clipped way. This caught your attention, and for the first time in a while your interest. Hunting Jedi, making sure no children strong with the force would ever find out about their existence and take care of them if they did was what you were trained for, what you often thought you were born to do. Suddenly it dawned on you that the last time you had actually been assigned a mission like this was before Tatooine, before Luke. “Why me? I don’t mean to question your decision, but there are many older, more skilled Inquisitors.” Tarkin simply nodded. “I agree. But Lord Vader asked for you specifically. You’re to leave for Dagobah tomorrow at 0700.”

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Your short research told you that Dagobah was basically a slimy mudhole, but upon arrival it seemed even worse than in the pictures on the holonet. “If that temple is inside one of those swamps I’m not even gonna bother, I’ll just set fire to the whole planet”, you mumbled as you climbed out of your TIE fighter, careful not to get your bracelet caught on the ladder. That had happened once during one of your first flying lessons and it had cost you almost a month’s salary to get it repaired, apparently the medal alone was worth more than you made in a year, from the stones you might even be able to buy a small planet. The second your feet touched the ground you felt something dripping down from the trees onto your arms, which you could only hope was water. Luckily, after just a few meters, you stumbled upon a path covered with mostly dry branches and pebbles. “I thought this planet was supposed to be abandoned, but this looks almost like someone made this path on purpose.” You kept walking along the path, checking your datapad every now and then to make sure you were headed the right way. After what felt like half an eternity of walking you finally reached a small hut, which your datapad assured you was right next to the temple, though since you couldn’t see anything other than the hut and a million trees you decided to investigate there first, who knew what you may find. A familiar buzz ran through your entire body, adrenaline and excitement preparing you for what was to come. With a slight smile on your lips you ignited your lightsaber, partially so you’d be ready for what- or whoever would be waiting for you inside, partially because from where you stood in the doorway you could tell that it was incredibly dark and the added benefit of a lightsaber was the soft glow that helped in situations like this. Inside the hut was larger than it had seemed on the outside, mostly meaning that there was more than just one room. In fact, there was a long hallway with open doors on both sides leading to different rooms. The first couple of rooms you checked, if they could even be called that, were pretty much overtaken by nature and rotting away. There was nothing that spoke of Jedi, or any other intelligent being, having been there in recent years. It wasn’t until you were closing in on the last rooms that you heard a low noise, followed by a gut feeling that told you that what you were looking for would be in that room. Though since you didn’t know what, or who, exactly would be in there you entered the room with your lightsaber stretched out in front of you, hoping the red sword would make any possible threat stand down before they could try anything while you would remain in the shadowy hallway to glance inside. The plan seemed to work, since you heard a small gasp from inside the room just a moment before you realized who it had come from. “Luke?” “(Y/N)?” Both your voices were astounded, shocked, and mournful. Of all the people in the galaxy, why did it have to be Luke Skywalker you found here of all places? “What are you doing here?”, you asked as you slowly entered the room. It was then that you noticed just how different Luke looked, how much he had changed since you last saw him. His hair was a bit shorter, his skin paler and his eyes darker. And he was wearing an orange flight suit, the outfit was completed by the helmet in his hand, with the familiar rebel symbol on the side. You turned your lightsaber off before fastening it to your belt, just in time because only moments later you felt your legs begin to wobble before they gave out underneath you. Luke, his reflexes fast as ever, quickly pushed a chair in your direction, so you would fall on that instead of the hard floor. “Luke... Please don’t tell me this is what I think it is.” You didn’t know what made you plead, hated the hurt and fear in your voice, but how could Luke, your Luke, not only be a rebel but be hiding right were an ancient Jedi temple was supposed to be. “If you’re asking whether I’m a rebel, the answer is yes”, he said after a moment of silence. “But judging by that red saber that’s not the only thing you’re asking.” Luke astonished you by sitting down on the small bed you only just noticed, one of the few pieces of furniture in the small room. How could he be so calm? “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re a... what do you call yourselves again? Inquisitors?” You couldn’t help the inappropriate laugh that escaped your lips. “Yes, Inquisitors. Also known as the only people stopping the Jedi from destroying the galaxy as we know it.” Luke simply looked at you, an expression on his face you’ve never seen. He seemed to be beyond angry, though there was no denying the sadness in his eyes. “Is that what you believe? That the Jedi, the few Jedi you and those like you haven’t slaughtered, are trying to destroy the galaxy?” Not knowing what made you do it you sat down next to Luke, though you did your best to put some distance between you on the small bed. “Luke, I know this might be hard to hear, I know some people, rebels and Jedi alike, probably told you more lies than either of us can count, but the Jedi are bad. They once controlled the galaxy, did you know that? And they used that control to gain riches and live comfortably while others suffered. They were selfish and deceiving and cruel and Emperor Palpatine was the only one who could stop them. You know that, don’t you?”, you asked. Of course Luke had to know that, know the truth. You spoke to him in a soft voice, careful not to burst his bubble too sudden, to give him time to adjust and acknowledge what deep down you were sure he had to know. “Is that what they told you? What they made you believe so you would go around killing innocent children, scared old fugitives and all those trying to live normal lives after a genocide? Wake up, (Y/N)! It’s not the Jedi that are bad, it’s the Empire.” Luke reached out to take your hand and for reasons unknown to you, you let him. “The Empire raised you, didn't it?”, he asked. To say you were shocked would be an understatement. You’ve never really told Luke anything about your past, you weren’t even sure whether you told him that you were an orphan, but certainly not what your childhood had been like. “How did you know?” He moved closer to you before he answered, reached for your face to lay a hand on your cheek. The sadness in his eyes was even more obvious now, so much so that it took over his entire face. “There’s no other explanation. If you had known life outside the Empire, if even just for a moment, you would know just how false everything you just said is.” You shook your head. Though doubt began to creep in on you, the bigger part of your brain knew that Luke must be trying one of his Jedi tricks on you. But as soon as that thought appeared you neglected it. This was Luke, your Luke. Sweet and kind and caring, he couldn’t hurt a fly, much less you, no matter how much time has passed. So was what he was saying true? At least partially? “They told you what they want you to believe, never let you make up your own mind. I know you, (Y/N), I know that deep down, somewhere underneath all those lies you’ve been told, you’re a good person, and that person doesn’t have to heart to be an Inquisitor.” There was an expression on Luke’s face you knew all too well. Hope. He squeezed your hand before lifting it up to his lips to press a soft kiss on the back of it. “Luke, I... I’m...”, you started, but with how much your lip was quivering you couldn’t finish your sentence. “It’s alright”, Luke said before pressing another kiss to your hand. “You don’t need to say it, you don’t need to apologize. You know, sorry doesn’t fix everything, but it’s a good start. And if you let me, I can help you. You could start a new life as part of the rebellion, I’m sure they’d be glad to have someone of your expertise.” As Luke kept talking your head began to spiral. Finally you came to a conclusion, and though you knew it was the right thing, you almost didn’t go through with it, knowing you wouldn’t be able to look Luke in the eyes afterwards. Slowly you began to loosen your hand from Luke’s grasp and removed his other hand from your cheek. “I’m not sorry. I’m not gonna say that I am when I’m not. Maybe what I’ve done was wrong, and if that’s the case your rebellion would never accept me, I don’t think I would accept me if what I have done wasn’t for the good of the galaxy, or maybe everything I’ve ever been taught was right and you’re lying to me. Whatever it is, I cannot say that I’m sorry, much less go with you, until I know the truth.” You took a deep breath and averted your eyes from Luke’s face. You couldn’t bear to look at him right now. “I know you won’t hurt me, even though you probably should. And I won’t hurt you, even though that’s what I’m here for. I’ll go looking for answers, to see whether I’m the villain you think I am, or the hero I was raised to be.” As you spoke the last words you got up from the small bed. You could feel Luke’s eyes on you, but knew that if you looked at him, at the face you’ve seen in your dreams ever since you first met, you wouldn’t be able to go through with your plan, instead you’d crumble and fall into his arms, knowing he’d always be there to catch you. Lucky for you, Luke didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop you until you were almost out the door. “I still love you”, he finally said. “Maybe I shouldn’t, knowing what I now know, but I can’t help it.” Even though every bone in your body was screaming at you to turn around, even though your heart was aching to catch one last glimpse at him, you continued to walk out the door, out the hut and didn’t stop until you reached your TIE. And just as you were taking off, after you have ripped parts of your clothes and carefully cut yourself with your lightsaber to make it seem as if Luke had bested you in battle, you finally did turn around and looked for Luke among the trees. And though you didn’t see him, something told you that he was there, watching you. It was that feeling that made you whisper the words you should have said to him whenever you had the chance. “I love you too. And I’m sorry, for everything.”

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I’m so sorry that this took ages, but I hope it was worth the wait. I really loved this idea and though I don’t think I really did it justice I have tried my best.

#luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x you #luke skywalker x y/n #luke skywalker imagine

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avengers-age-of-fanfics · 3 years

Text

just for you, honeybee (2/?)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, steve rogers x reader (platonic)

word count: 2,107

authors note: second part of this ongoing series! i still don't know how many parts this is going to be but i seriously want to finish this lmao. hopefully this will be a series i actually complete! please leave feedback - i truly appreciate it!

warnings: mention of bucky's death, uncontrollable sobbing, character death, a few curse words

summary: dating back to 1943, you, james barnes, and steve rogers were best friends, including bucky being your boyfriend. when you get a notice that bucky died in the war, you make it your mission to find closure for yourself and protect steve as he is the only remaining piece of bucky you have left. once you are offered the super soldier serum, you and steve must make your way through world war 2 - and the unknown future hardships to come.

recap: Steve seemed shocked that you were able to read him like that, but was defeated. With a sigh, he turned and reached into his handbag, pulling out a file, “there was this Doctor there, Doctor Erskine, who uh – he approved me for the army, y/n. But it’s for an experiment, something they call a super-soldier experiment, I’m not sure. I’m going – I leave in a couple days.”

How is your world falling apart this quickly?

Sending Steve off was honestly just as painful as it was when Bucky was shipped off. You didn’t want to guilt-trip Steve into staying – you knew how important it was to him to join the army and do something. However, now you were completely alone. You knew you had Becca and you could always write to Bucky and Steve, but it just wasn’t the same.

Both of your boys were gone.

Once Steve had told you about this super-soldier serum experiment, you chewed his ear off for a good 10 minutes. It was brutal, to say the least, and while pacing in your small living room, Steve sat in his seat, hands folded as he waited for you to finish.

This was his final chance to get into the army and while he hated the idea of leaving you, he needed to do something, not only with his life, but with the army. He needed to prove himself. He knew you could take care of yourself – you were independent and a firecracker – there was nothing you couldn’t do. However, while slowly trying to convince himself that you would be okay, Steve was also having a midlife crisis of his own friendship with Bucky. If he found out he left you alone while the both of them were at war, Steve knew Bucky’s reaction wasn’t going to be great.

Once you were done tearing Steve a new one, telling him that you supported him all the way, but you honestly wished he would stay – and possibly called him a dipshit in between all of that – you calmed down. With a quiet voice, you looked to Steve, “can I at least send you off?”

Steve felt his cheeks grow warm and let a smile slip onto his lips, “I would be honored if my biggest fan were there.”

You shoved his shoulder lightly, “shut it, you fat-head. C’mon, we gotta get you all dolled up.”

While it was just as painful to see Steve go, you knew he’d be in good hands and wouldn’t do anything too stupid. You had told him sternly, “I want the name of your commanding officer, his commanding officer, and any fat-headed buffoons that are in charge at your camp, okay?”

Steve had shaken his head, “yes mom, whatever you say.” His eyes rolled but he had a smile on his face, “just so you can keep an eye on me?”

You hummed, “that, and to know whose ass I hav’ta kick if anything happens to you, Stevie. And if you see Bucky, you tell him I love him, you hear?”

Steve saluted before he headed towards the platform, “love ya, y/n!”

You had a small smile on your life, “love you too, Rogers. Kill some Nazis for me.”

That interaction was nearly 6 months ago, and every day felt like a new hill you had to climb over. You sent postcards to both Steve and Bucky in hopes that they would respond every time you sent one, but that wasn’t the case. You weren’t mad, nor upset, just lonely. Steve had let you know that the serum worked and he had been reunited with Bucky after taking over a HYDRA base where you learned Buck was captured. God, that letter caused you so much turmoil and anxiety, but Steve had calmed your fears, letting you know that Bucky was okay. You had also recognized his handwriting at the end, “can’t get rid of me that easily, honeybee. I love you.”

You hadn’t heard from them in a couple weeks, and your anxiety was beginning to show. Nothing new had happened, so you truly had no reason to write to them, but you did anyway, just updating them both on your life and how much you missed them. You had seen Captain America’s tours and his posters all over Brooklyn, and you were so proud of your Steve.

But it was weird seeing him so tall and…built.

Tearing your eyes away from another Captain America poster with his boys behind him, you continued your journey to some local shops, stocking up on groceries and possibly a new pair of shoes. Brooklyn was quiet today, which was certainly odd; there was nothing ominous about it, but it was not something anyone there was used to.

Hands skimming through some plums, you picked one that you knew Bucky would love. With a soft smile, you put the fruit in your basket, continuing through the store until you heard quiet whispers:

“Are you sure he’s here? The Captain America?”

“Mary, I told you, I saw him clear as day; no clue where the man was headin’, but he’s here.”

“Is there a tour or somethin’ here in Brooklyn?”

“Mary…I ain’t no mind reader, he could be stoppin’ by before he goes back off to war.”

Your heart nearly exploded out of your chest. Steve was here, back in Brooklyn? Wait – if Steve was here, then Bucky could be, too!

Quickly dropping the items you had in your hands, you ran out of the grocery store as fast as your heels would let you, passing by Grover in such a rush, he couldn’t even say hello. Crossing the street in a hurry, you grabbed your purse tightly and ran up your apartment fire escape stairs. Once you reached your floor, you grabbed your key and opened the door, being met with your Steve Grant Rogers and a very beautiful woman dressed in an army’s uniform.

“I – holy shit, Steve – oh my god,” you stumbled, out of breath as Steve stood up, towering over you, “I thought you were smaller.”

Steve stepped forward, hands out in case you fell or needed a hug, “side effect of that serum I told you about, remember?” The woman behind him gave Steve a look at the mention.

You caught your breath, “give me a hug, you doofus! Oh my gosh, those letters do you no good – nor do the posters!”

The two of you embraced as Steve held you in his arms, careful of his trembling hands, “’used my spare key, hope you don’t mind.”

You ran your hands over his back and his hair, “I get to see my best friend again, I don’t care how you got in here. Now, where’s Jamie, I – I need’ta see him.”

Steve pulled away and laid his hands on your shoulders, “actually, I wanted you to meet someone before… this is uh, Peggy Carter, she’s an agent of that Strategic Scientific Reserve for the serum and one of the best. Peg, this is y/n, the one who wrote to me and…Bucky, all the time.”

Peggy stood up, hand outstretched towards you as you shook hers, “nice to finally meet you, y/n. Steve here talked lots about you.”

You didn’t fail to notice her solemn look and the file of papers tucked underneath her other arm, “it’s, um, nice to meet you too, Agent Carter.”

The three of you stood in silence as Steve guided you to the remaining chair in the living room. With a bite to your lip, you turned towards Peggy, “I hate to be so forward, Agent, but I’ve seen those files before. I know what – what they mean.”

“Y/N,“ Steve began, “please let her –“

You cut Steve off, “Stevie…where is James?” Your eyes immediately started to fill with tears but you held them back for the sake of your own.

Peggy cleared her throat, “Miss L/N, there was a mission that included James Buchanan Barnes and during that mission, a part of the train that the soldiers were riding on exploded. Amongst the fight, we believe Barnes –“

Steve stopped her, “Peg, she – she doesn’t need to know how…”

Tears escaped your eyes as you looked at your best friend, “Stevie… Is he..?”

Steve ran his hands over his face, “he – he was hangin’ onto the side of the train, y/n, and I let him fall. I couldn’t reach him and…”

The rest of Steve’s story fell upon deaf ears. No, not deaf ears, but ones that were ringing. Bucky was dead. He was dead. He fell off a train and was dead. He wasn’t coming home.

Bucky wasn’t coming home to you.

At that revelation, your body began to shake uncontrollably as the tears fell from your eyes, unable to be stopped. You tried to breathe but the pressure on your chest was unbearable. You tried to look at Steve, but your eyes were so blurry, “St-“

No words left your mouth, only the sounds of your sobbing. Steve leaped forward, wrapping his arms around you as you cried, screamed for Bucky, for your Jamie.

"No, no, not James! Steve, please!" you cried, falling onto the floor with Steve as he held you.

Peggy let her own tear slip, overwhelmed with your reaction. Leaving his dog tags, his files, and a medal on your table, she stepped out of your apartment.

Mrs. Betty Davis stepped out of her apartment just as Peggy shut the door, hoping nobody heard your cries and screams for James. Mrs. Davis looked to Peggy, “that boy, Barnes… he never came home?”

Peggy wiped her stray tear and cleared her throat, “I’m afraid not, ma’am. He died an honorable death, taking down a,” she paused, “a Nazi base.”

Mrs. Davis shifted her gaze to the door where she could clearly hear you crying and yelling for Bucky, that he wasn’t dead. She looked down to her welcome mat, “he was a good man, always takin’ care of that girl. His heart beat for her, he turned her world. Wouldn’t surprise anyone if he had a ring lyin’ around. She was just as in love with him as he was her.”

Peggy’s eyes filled up with tears as your neighbor explained you and Bucky’s love for one another, “I had only met him once but he… he seemed genuinely good.”

Mrs. Davis gave a sad smile, “he was. Thank you…for letting me know.” Peggy nodded at her.

Back inside, your tears had stained Steve’s shirt as he held you close, “I know y/n, I – I know. I got you.”

You had stopped screaming for Bucky, but your hands shook as they held onto Steve, fresh tears still running down your cheeks. With a shaky breath, you grasped onto Steve’s shirt, “do – do you think he was in pain?”

Steve let his own tears slip but held his own, “I don’t know y/n, but I’d like to think he wasn’t. He – uh – he told me, before he fell… he told me to tell his honeybee that he loves you so, so much and he – he wanted you to have his tags.”

You pulled away from Steve’s chest, looking at him in slight confusion, “his…tags?” It had then dawned on you:

Bucky wanted you to have his dog tags from the army.

Feeling a new thread of tears about to be shed, your lip quivered but you covered it up, glancing over the room until you saw the file Peggy had sat on the table. With shaky hands, you leaned towards your coffee table – the one that Bucky would rest his feet upon all the time until you smacked them off – and grabbed the file. Opening it up, you immediately saw his army identification photo and his dog tags hanging in the middle of the file.

You shut the flimsy piece of paper before you could cry anymore. Turning to Steve, you noticed his eyes were also red from crying, “what now?”

Steve and you now sat on the floor, backs resting on one of your chairs, “I hav’ta finish what I started, with Johann Schmidt and Zola. Can I be honest with you?”

You nodded your head, wiping your remaining tears on your shirt, “of – of course Steve.”

He let out a shaky breath, “I wish I could take away your pain, but I can’t. Before Buck was shipped off, I promised him I would take care of you, and right now, I need to be here for you. So, if you want to, I can ask Peg if you can come along with us, with me, and once I’m done, we can… we can do whatever you want to do.”

You picked at your nails, anxiety swallowing you whole, “and what if you don’t make it back, either?”

“I will.”

Honeybee Taglist:

@clownerlyluv

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extasiswings · 3 years

Text

You can all blame @thisissirius for this one because I was going to write some sweet fluff but instead...also on ao3 here.

“Diaz! I’m out of ammo!”

“ETA six minutes.”

“We don’t have six minutes.”

Bullets flying, the sound of gunfire popping in his ears—but then, no, he’s back on the transport, alarms blaring, falling, falling, falling out of the sky—

He’s trapped and it’s burning all around, hot, twisted, sharp metal—he scrambles over to the patient—

Hen. Burned and coated with ash, she coughs and tips her head as she looks at him.

“At least no one’s shooting at us, right Eddie?”

“Eddie?”

“Eddie.”

Eddie jerks awake, his head whipping around as his heart pounds, only to see Buck, close by with his hands raised, palms open as if he had been touching him and just pulled back. Eddie’s mouth is dry, and there’s a burn in the back of his throat like he might be sick, but he swallows hard to get himself under control as he takes in his surroundings.

They’re in the truck, he reminds himself, the surroundings familiar. He and Buck are alone, Hen up front driving—when Eddie looks at his watch, he realizes it’s only about halfway into her most recent driving shift and they still have at least another five hours before they get back to LA. Despite the darkness of the interior, Buck’s face—and specifically the concern written across it—is clear.

“It’s just me,” Buck says quietly. “Sorry, I—I wasn’t sure whether it was right to wake you up or not, but it didn’t seem like—you were sort of twitching? And you made this sound—”

“It’s okay,” Eddie assures. “It was—yeah. Um, thank you.”

His voice is raspy and there’s a cold sweat drying on his skin that makes him feel somehow dirtier and more uncomfortable than when he’d been in the field covered in soot. At home, or even at the station, he would get up in a situation like this. Would take a shower or work out until his hands stopped shaking. But he doesn’t have those options here, trapped in a moving vehicle. Is flayed open and exposed, a heady cocktail of fight-or-flight chemicals buzzing under his skin as the echoes of alarm bells and gunshots fade from his ears and his best friend looks at him like he’s a basket case—

No, that’s not fair. Buck’s looking at him the way he would look at any of them he was worried about, because Buck is a good person with a big heart. There’s no judgment in his eyes, just naked concern, and Eddie tries to remember that as he sets his elbows on his knees and drops his head into his hands, blowing out a shaky breath.

“Hey, Hen?” Buck calls, raising his voice. “Can we make a stop? I need to pee. Sorry, should have gone earlier.”

“You’re lucky I love you, Buckley,” she calls back. “And that we’re not totally in the middle of nowhere. There should be a rest stop at the next exit, I’ll turn off there.”

“Thanks.”

Eddie presses the heel of his hands to his eyes for a moment before dropping them, rolls his head on his neck to work out some of the tension in his muscles before finally looking back at Buck.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, despite the relief that floods him at the thought of escaping the confined space for even a few minutes, getting the chance to stretch his legs and breathe and maybe even splash some water on his face.

“Yes, I did,” Buck replies, his voice equally low. “Besides, you would have done it for me.”

“Sure, but I wouldn’t have needed to do it for you,” Eddie shoots back, frustration heavy on his tongue. “You can fall asleep on a road trip without worrying about—”

He cuts himself off and sighs. “Sorry. Sorry, I’m—fuck.”

“I’ve been fine,” he insists, because it feels important that he make Buck understand that. That he’s capable, that he has himself together.

He always needs to have himself together.

“I had a couple bad weeks after everything with the well last year, but I bounced back. It’s not—this doesn’t happen that often, I don’t know why—”

“Eddie, I don’t even know what this is,” Buck says. He reaches out—stops, hesitating before his hand makes contact with Eddie’s shoulder, his eyes flicking up to search Eddie’s before finally closing the rest of the distance. It’s instinct to flinch from the touch, but Eddie tamps down on the impulse, instead focusing on the weight and heat of Buck’s hand pressing down, grounding, anchoring.

“So you had a bad dream,” he continues, shrugging. “Everyone does. The other day I woke up panicked because I dreamt I was kidnapped by a supervillain who pulled all of my teeth out. It happens. Plus, I still—”

Buck looks down and swallows hard. “I still dream about the tsunami. Sometimes. And about being trapped under the truck. And it never matters how either of those things actually turned out because in the dreams—nightmares—I always lose. Christopher. My leg. Brains can be assholes. But it’s not—you had a bad dream. You don’t have to apologize for that.”

“Alright, boys, we’re here,” Hen calls as the truck rolls to a stop. “Try to make it quick? I’d like to at least try to make it back in time to sleep a few hours in my own bed before my afternoon class.”

“You’re the best, Hen,” Buck replies. Eddie pushes himself up and opens the door to climb out. Even just standing on solid ground helps—he sucks in several breaths of fresh air, letting each one out slowly. The stars are bright and clear against the ink-black sky, the rest stop far enough from any major cities or the wildfire that light pollution or smoke don’t dim their shine. Buck’s hand brushes against Eddie’s back as he climbs out of the truck as well, a gentle, casual thing that feels more like habit than a deliberate touch. A subtle, familiar ghost that whispers I’m here, behind, hello.

Eddie doesn’t feel the urge to flinch away from that touch.

When Buck starts off in the direction of the restrooms, Eddie pushes off the truck and follows.

“I got my silver star after my platoon’s medical transport helicopter was shot down in Afghanistan,” he admits a few minutes later, after he washes his hands and splashes water on his face for good measure. “We crashed, I got almost everyone out of the wreckage. We took heavy fire...I really thought I was gonna die that night. Wound up with three bullet wounds and a medal and a hell of a lot of guilt over the one guy who didn’t make it home.”

“And Hen was in a helicopter crash yesterday,” Buck fills in. “That you watched happen.”

Eddie sighs. “And Hen was in a helicopter crash yesterday, yeah,” he admits. “I didn’t think—we were doing search and rescue in a wildfire, it wasn’t a battlefield, we weren’t getting shot at, and she was fine. She is. Fine. And I’m fine. There’s no reason—”

He rakes a hand through his hair. “I’m fine,” he repeats.

Buck goes quiet for a moment, catching his lower lip between his teeth. And then he says—

“I’m in therapy.” His tongue sweeps out and wets his lips. “I’m fine, too. But I’m in therapy. Because I realized that I didn’t want to settle for fine. And also that I could be...more fine. Finer. Finest.”

“Do you think that’s something I should be ashamed of?” He asks.

“Of course not,” Eddie says, his stomach dropping at the very thought. “I would never think—no, Buck that’s great—if it’s helping, I’m happy for you.”

“Then why are you ashamed of yourself just because your fine isn’t perfect?”

“I—” Words catch in Eddie’s throat as he squirms at the logic. He doesn’t think because it’s me is a response that’s going to fly, but that’s all that comes to mind. And maybe that means Buck has a point.

Buck takes a step closer, closing the distance between them. His hand curves around the side of Eddie’s neck, thumb pressing ever so lightly under Eddie’s chin to tip his head up. The look in his eyes is soft and makes Eddie feel exposed in an entirely different way than he had in the truck. But he doesn’t think he dislikes the feeling.

“You went through hell and you survived,” Buck says quietly. “So you have a few scars. You never have to be ashamed of that. Especially not in front of me.”

Eddie shudders out a breath and leans in, closing his eyes as he drops his head to Buck’s shoulder. Buck adjusts to wrap his arms around him, holding tight, and they stand there embracing for a long moment as the remaining tension bleeds from Eddie’s shoulders.

“Why did I hear TK telling you he’s in a serious relationship before we left?” Eddie asks once he feels steady enough to pull away.

Buck’s cheeks go pink as he laughs. “Uh—well. I think he thought I was coming onto him?”

Eddie bites his cheek to keep from smiling. “Were you? I guess he’s okay...if that’s the kind of look you’re into.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “You know there was only one person there I wanted to flirt with.”

“Marjan?” Eddie offers, and the eyeroll becomes an exasperated stare.

“I agreed to glacially slow, not nonexistent,” Buck points out, stepping in and leaning in and—

Eddie’s fingers curl into the front of Buck’s shirt as Buck’s mouth ghosts over his, using to grip to pull him down into a proper kiss.

“If he had stuck around long enough for me to get over my surprise, I would have told him I was spoken for,” Buck adds, a little breathless when he steps back.

“Glacially slow or not?”

“Glacially slow or not.” Buck’s lips curve up as he laces their fingers. “I told you months ago I didn’t mind waiting. I’m in this. However long it takes.”

Eddie squeezes his hand.

“Thank you,” he says. And there are so many things that could be meant by that, he’s not even sure he can name them all. But Buck seems to get it anyway.

“Come on. Let’s go back.”

“Let’s go home,” Eddie adds. Their hands slide apart as they leave the restroom, but Eddie still feels Buck’s warmth sinking into his skin, like sunlight chasing away shadows. And as he climbs back into the truck, he thinks that maybe Buck’s right. Maybe he could be more than fine. Maybe admitting that isn’t a bad thing.

When he falls asleep again, he doesn’t dream.

#chapel writes #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 fic #buddie fic

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thedepthsoffandomminds · 2 years

Text

FLIES THE HAWK Pt14

Master list.

It had been 2 weeks since the school fight, and finally you were being released from the hospital. Your dad had to go back to work so you'd called Johnny to come get you. He was sat in your room with you whilst you waited for the doctor to come in.

"Hi y/n, how are you feeling today?" The doctor asked as she walked in.

"I'm okay."

"Fighting fit." She grinned to you.

"Oh no she's not a fighter." Johnny interrupted.

You laughed.

"Do either of us need to sign anything?" You ask.

"Just a couple of signatures from Mr Lawrence and you can head out."

Johnny started signing the clipboard as you pulled on your jacket. Johnny grabbed your small bag and pushed the wheelchair. We passed Miguel's room. He had woken up but was unable to walk. His mum and grandmother were in with him so you didn't bother going in.

"I spoke to your dad, he asked if you could come stay at mine for a bit, just till he gets back next week." Johnny said helping you into his car.

"Okay, thanks Johnny."

Getting back to his apartment didn't take too long and you quickly went to the spare room to have a nap. Your head was still a little foggy at times. As you laid down you heard your phone vibrate. It was a text from Eli. You didn't even bother looking at it. You slid the phone onto the floor and closed your eyes, thinking back to when Sam visited you in the hospital.

"Tory got arrested, Robby is missing. Everything is so messed up. We've all been suspended." She sat complaining.

"What about Eli?" You ask.

"You should forget about him. It was Hawk who trashed the dojo, he stole Miyagi's medal of honour."

You couldn't help but feel anger towards him and you were glad to have some more time before being back on the same street.

How could he be so horribel to the Miyago-do's and yet so nice to you. Your mind wouldn't shut off so you called Sam.

"If he is so horrible why did he help me after the party?" You asked not really paying attention to what you were saying.

"Y/n, not this again. Hawk used to be a nice guy, you know that but since being in cobra kai he has changed. I just don't think you can trust him."

"You're probably right."

"Wait what do you mean he helped you after the party?" She asked.

"When I hurt my arm, he helped me to the hospital."

"What really happened?" You knew she could tell there was more to the story.

"Its nothing, I fell and hurt my arm thats all. It was bleeding a lot so he helped."

"I dunno, maybe it because you can't fight." That might change one day."

You both laugh and hang up. Your foggy head had gone away so you walked back out to the living room.

"Hey kiddo, I'm going to see Robby today if you wanna come with?" Johnny asked.

"Sure, that would be nice." You say.

Johnny left a little while after, he had some errands to run. He didn't tell you what they were but he took a weird looking silver statue with him when he left.

The time for the visit came and you went in with one of Johnny's old friends. He was pasture. You both sat opposite Robby waiting but Johnny didn't turn up.

Bobby, the pasture got up saying he was gunna call him, leaving you alone with Robby.

"I'm sorry you got caught up in all this y/n" he said looking at your bandaged arm.

"Well you did too, lets face it if it wasn't for the others you wouldn't be in here. Its not fair, you didn't start any of this." You say.

"No one cares, they just needed someone to be the reason and I kicked Miguel." He looked down at the table between.

"He's awake." You say, hoping it would make him feel better.

He nodded.

"Can I, can I come see you again?" You asked. A smile drew across his face.

"I'd like that."

I reached across the table and took his hand. "Try to stay out of trouble." I said. A guard told you to let go of each other. The visiting hour ended so you got up and walked out of the room, grabbing your phone and coat from the office. Bobby offered to take you home.

Pt15 soon

@peppamultifanimagines @shaybot12 @it-was-never-meant-to-be-boys @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @filmfvckers

#fanfiction #eagle fang karate #eli moskowitz #eli x reader #hawk moskowitz #hawk x reader #cobra kai fanfic #danny larusso #johnny lawrence #sam larusso

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wish-that-i-was-buckys-girl · 3 years

Note

Hey! I just discovered your blog and I was wondering if you'd be okay doing a Lance tucker x reader where they get in an argument but it has a fluffy ending where they're closer than they were before? Maybe they confess their feelings to each other? I totally understand if you're not able or comfortable to write this.

Merry Christmas! 🎄🤶🎅🌲🎁

Authors Notes: Hey! I hope this is something similar to what you were looking for. They’re expressing their feelings in some way, just maybe not the way you’d think. I hope you like it!

Lance Tucker x Reader

Warnings: Arguing, swearing, insinuation of possible cheating, and some downright shitty friends.

Word Count: 3K

Trouble in Paradise

(Not my gif)

_______________________________________________

It was New Year’s Eve. The year had been stressful to say the least but even worse, Lance’s buddies were coming over for a party. It’s not that you didn’t like his friends. Well, it was that. You didn’t like them. Ever since you and Lance got together three years ago, they have done nothing but try to convince him to date hotter women. “Date” being a loose term.

Overheard conversations during football games and dart/pool games and the basement went something like this.

“Oh, come on Lance you saw the chicks you used to pull. They were smokin’. Why don’t you just live again? Or better yet, you don’t even have to break up with her! Just, you know, tell her you got competitions and when she doesn’t suspect it, book a couple hotel rooms. What’s the harm?”

“Lance, buddy, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you don’t exactly have a trophy wife. Aren’t you the one with the gold medal? Shouldn’t you be looking for a gold medal wife instead of a bronze one?”

“I like her Lance, I really do, but remember that Victoria’s Secret model you hooked up with regularly like 5 years ago? What was her name... uh... Serenity! Yeah, why don’t you give her a call. You guys seemed to really click.”

The worst part of it all was they never really got to know you. They brushed past you while you cooked some food for them in the kitchen. You and Lance took turns cooking but somehow you always found that you were cooking when his friends were coming over. You had never really put much thought into it, until tonight.

“Honey! I’m home from the gym!”

You were making taco dip, guacamole, homemade Mac and cheese, and Buffalo chicken dip for the big party. You ordered pizzas, subs, and other sides to top it off. You never knew how much 8 men could eat, until you started cooking for 8 men.

Lance came up behind you and gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “How’s my pretty girl doing?”

“Fine, I guess.”

You both knew you weren’t fine.

Lance sighs loudly. “Angel, what is wrong? You know I just want to help you.”

“We can talk about it later. Right now, I just want to get in my cooking zone and not think about anything.”

Lance puts his hands on his hips and stares at you authoritatively.

“Well, I’m gonna go quick grab a shower and come back down to help you finish cooking before the boys come.”

“Sounds good” you said with a half-smile. You were dreading tonight.

_______________________________________________

True to his word, Lance came down and helped you finish cooking the rest of the food. It remained quiet for most of the time you spent together. Lance could feel the tension in the air but didn’t want to ask again if anything was wrong before the party. It was New Year’s Eve, he was supposed to be celebrating with his friends, not trying to start a fight with you.

You were infuriated Lance didn’t bother to ask you why you were so upset. You always felt second to his friends, why is that? The first year you were dating it wasn’t like that. You were the center of attention in all regards, you didn’t want to be, but he treated you like the only girl in the world. Now?

“Hey babe I’m going out with the guys I’ll see you tomorrow.” You knew full well he would drunkenly slip under the covers at 3AM. Why was he out so late? What was he doing?

“Sweetheart the guys are coming over to play pool do you mind ordering us some pizzas?” Why couldn’t he do it himself?

You really did not mind that Lance had friends. You encouraged him to hang out with them even though they said horrible things about you, but enough was enough. There’s hanging out with your friends, and there’s being with your friends 24/7, leaving your girlfriend to stay home and watch movies by herself.

After you finished cooking you went upstairs to the bedroom to watch a movie. By yourself.

Surprise, surprise.

You heard the front door open for the first time tonight. You wondered if any of the guys would bring over their girlfriends or “hot dates.” You didn’t know if that would relieve your stress or infuriate you even more. If they did bring someone, they wouldn’t be so focused on it being a “boys’ night.” However, if they did bring someone, why couldn’t you come downstairs to hang out with them?

You heard a slap of hands exchanged and what you assumed to be a half hug after it.

The men continued to pile in around 8PM. Some of them brought a date, but others didn’t. However, you noticed one of the guys brought two girls. Why would he do that?

You decided to put on some nice clothes to go downstairs. Other men were bringing their dates, and this was your house. You deserve to celebrate too.

You worked your way down to the basement, wanting to spend time with your definitely above average looking boyfriend. You were so happy to call him yours, even though he frustrated you to no end sometimes. From what you overhear, he never sticks up for you.

You strutted over him and placed your hand on his back gently. He quickly turns around, angry almost and begins to say something “I told you I don’t want.... oh, hi baby.”

You looked at him confused. What was that about?

“Hi... what’s uh, what’s going on?”

“Oh nothin’. Just Evan and I got into it earlier about something and I thought he was coming to bother me about it again. But then I turn around to see your pretty face and that doesn’t even matter.”

He brings you in for a tight hug and rests his chin on your head. You loved him. You loved him so much.

Out of nowhere Evan comes up behind you, noticeably drunk, the scent of liquor oozing off of him. There’s a girl attached to his right arm. She’s tall, slender, and blonde. You thought she was too attractive for Evan, until he started to speak.

“Lance, meet my girl Lindsay here. She’s really interested in you and wants to talk to you about your gold medal.”

You can’t say this never happened. You were used to women throwing themselves at Lance. You were always so proud to call Lance yours, but other women wanted that opportunity as well. It got so bad to the point where women would send random lewd photos to his work email to gain his attention. It never worked thank god. Every time you saw pictures like that you got suspicious, but every message read “don’t you want to see what you’re missing out on?” or something to that degree. Lance was always patient and kind with you about it, knowing you were easily frustrated and cautious of him because you knew what he was like before. However, you knew he wouldn’t cheat on you, and he always has an explanation if he thought you were ever worried.

“Excuse me?” You said looking at Evan.

“Come on Y/N. Let the man have a little fun.” Evan retorted.

“This isn’t letting him have ‘a little fun.’ Letting him have ‘a little fun’ is hosting this party, not you trying to actively encourage him to cheat on me, right in front of me no less.”

Lindsay sneers at you. “Who are you? Get in line sister. Evan told me I would get to talk to him.”

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief.

“I don’t know if I have to spell it out for you, if you can even spell, but I’m his girlfriend.”

“Y/N come on baby it’s not that big of a deal. She just wants to talk to me about my gold medal that’s all.”

“The gold medal you won in the Olympics or the one tattooed around your dick Lance?”

“I’ll only talk to her about the one I won in the Olympics and you know that.”

You had had it. You were so incredibly tired of Lance never sticking up for you when it came to situations like this. You never threw a fit when his friends would make stupid remarks, but this was the last straw.

“I don’t care anymore Lance! Talk to her about your dick tattoo. Hell, let her even see your dick tattoo close up while she’s sucking you off. I’m done.”

Without giving him a second glance. you turned on your heel and walked upstairs to grab your car keys.

Lance sprinted up the stairs after you, shouting your name. You didn’t care. You ran to the garage and hit the button to open the door. Lance thought you went to your room, so he sprinted to the third floor thinking you were there. He finally realized you were actually leaving when he heard the start of your car. He saw you back out of the driveway like a bat out of hell, and all he could do was watch from the window.

_______________________________________________

You drove to the nearest diner, hoping they would be open even though it was New Year’s Eve. Thankfully, they were. You always comforted yourself with food when shit like this happened. Who doesn’t love food? You can’t say that entirely though. You also tended to starve yourself in situations like this as well. Neither coping mechanism was healthy, but it got you through it.

You ordered a breakfast meal, quickly glancing at your phone to see if anyone had texted you.

24 missed calls from Lance❤️🥇

You knew he was worried about you, but you weren’t ready to call him back yet. You knew he couldn’t come searching for you either, all of his friends still being inside, waiting for the ball to drop. This was going to be the first year you and Lance wouldn’t kiss at midnight, all because of his stupid friends who hate you for no reason.

You ate your meal as you saw Ryan Seacrest introduce one artist after another on the television.

The clock was nearing midnight. You didn’t seem to care. You contemplated going to your friend’s house, knowing they would gladly accept you and support you, especially when they knew how much of an ass Lance’s friends could be. You decided against it, not wanting to bother anyone.

You glanced at your phone again.

28 missed calls from Lance❤️🥇

Not only that, but it had looked like he texted you as well.

“Where are you going???”

“Y/N???”

“Baby come back here please I’m very upset and I want to talk”

“Baby please come back and talk to me.”

And about 15 other messages similar to those.

You were heartbroken. You wanted to go home, but you knew you needed to stand your ground.

As the many thousands of people in NYC count down to the New Year you sat and ate your bacon and pancakes.

Lance saw all of his buddies laughing and having a good time. He couldn’t have a good time until he knew you were safe and that he would have everything fixed. He knew he fucked up big time, but he thought you were overreacting to the extreme. Was it really that bad you needed to leave right away?

His annoyance throughout the night grew as Lindsay began to pester him about his interests.

“Lindsay, I don’t know how to tell you this in a nice way, so I won’t. I have a girlfriend. She’s the sexiest, smartest, and sweetest woman on this planet, and that’s all that matters to me. Now please, go bother Johnny or somethin’.”

Lindsay didn’t like that. So much so, she dumped her whole glass of whiskey on his brand-new Nike shoes. He didn’t care she was upset. All he cared about was you.

Evan came back up to Lance for the last time of the night.

“Heyyuh pal. I didn’t mean to make your lady run out on ya.”

“But you did Evan. You fucking idiot, you stupid fucking fucker. You ruined this night for not only me, but my girl who is probably out sobbing to her friends about how much of a shit boyfriend I am. And you know what? I don’t blame her. I deserve it.”

“C’mon man don’t be so *burp* hard on yourself. Hey, at least you can go have fun with Lindsay eh?” He says while wiggling his eyebrows.

Lance was fuming. “Evan if you don’t get the fuck out of my face, I’m going to floor you in about 6 seconds.”

Evan held up his hands and backed away, finally getting the hint he was becoming a nuisance to not only Lance, but the party itself.

He listened to all of his friends count down to the new year in a drunken haze. He slouched over the home bar, drinking himself into a stupor with his seventh gin and tonic. He didn’t care about any of the calories he was consuming. He didn’t care about anything. He knew he wouldn’t have his Angel to hold and kiss into the new year. He wanted nothing more for this night to just end.

_______________________________________________

You snuck back into the house around 4AM, hoping Lance wasn’t awake. You drove around for hours after the ball dropped, the diner closing at 1AM anyways. You listened to 80’s music, calming yourself down. Music always helped you meditate.

As you slowly closed the door you saw Lance sitting miserably in his recliner. He was no longer drunk. Just incredibly depressed.

He turned to look at the door, hoping that the door opening and closing wasn’t just some sleep induced hallucination. As soon as he realized it was you, he jolted up and ran to give you a hug. You stuck your arm out before he could reach you.

He looked devastated.

“I want to talk Lance. I-”

“No, no I fucked up. Let me do this. I have been shit. I have been absolute and utter fucking garbage to you when it comes to my friends. I let them talk to me like I’m still a bachelor. I know you overhear the things they say, and it hurts you. And I let them do that. I don’t know why. I have no reason. It was so fucking stupid of me. You have to know I don’t want any other woman on this planet. You’re my day and my night. I would be lost in this depressing ass place of a world if it wasn’t for you my sweet Angel. My beacon of light.” He stopped his rant briefly to cup your face and stare into your eyes lovingly.

“It all stops here. No more stupid guy shit. You’re my number one and you deserve to be treated that way. If any of my friends continues to disrespect my baby, they’re out. I don’t care who they are and how long they’ve been around. You’re my baby. You’re the only thing that matters.

It felt like a weight had just been lifted off of your chest. You loved him. You really did.

He pulled you in for the tightest hug that he could have possibly ever given. He kisses the top of your forehead for what seems like a hundred times.

You look up to him while he’s still embracing you.

“I like Johnny. Johnny can stay.” You say with a smile.

“Keeping Storm it is, got it.” He returned with a smile.

A lightbulb goes on in Lance’s head. “Oh! Come here, come here, come here. I saved this for you.”

You follow him into the living room, your hand wrapped in his. He flicks through the TV menu, clicking to find the recording from earlier.

It was the ball drop.

“I recorded this for us. I didn’t want to miss kissing my baby into the new year.” He said with a smile.

“Lance Tucker, you are the sweetest man alive, do you know that?”

“C’mon, you know I’m still an asshole. I just have my moments.” He says with an eyeroll.

You slapped his chest playfully as you both slightly laughed.

As the seconds ticked down to midnight for the second time of the night, Lance stared into your eyes with the most love you have ever felt from a person.

“10!”

“Where did you even go anyways?”

“9!”

“Our spot.”

“8!”

I’m gonna take you on the best date there ever was. Just you wait.”

“7!”

“I’ll be counting on that Tucker. A promise is a promise.”

“6!”

“I’m really good at keeping promises.”

“5!”

“Oh really? Just like that time you promised to give me a castle made out of gold?”

“4!”

“You’re still getting that y’know.”

“3!”

“What other promises have you kept huh?”

“2!”

“I promised to love you forever. And I always will.”

“1!”

“I love you too, Lance.”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

He kissed you with a ferocity you didn’t know existed. He took your bottom lip into his mouth and held it there for what seemed like forever. Forever was okay though, as long as you were with him.

Lance finally broke the kiss, pulling away softly and cupping your face in his left hand. He whispered.

“Check your cardigan pocket.”

You looked confused. He knew you would be. You felt a tiny box in you right hand pocket. It was covered in felt. You slowly pulled it out to see that it was a ring box. You opened it and it had a ring pop inside.

“Ha-ha. Very funny Tuc-”

You looked down to see Lance on one knee. Holding the most beautiful ring you had ever seen in your life.

“I’m going to love you forever, Y/N. Will you marry me?”

You were stunned.

“...Yes.... oh my god, YES!”

He smiled, standing up and wrapping his arms around you as fast as he could.

“I’ll love you forever too, Lance.”

#lance tucker #sebastian stan characters #lance tucker x reader #lance tucker x you

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dalekofchaos · 3 years

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If Vader raised Luke and Obi-Wan trained Leia

Let’s say sometime after Mustafar. Darth Vader in his meditation in his castle, Vader felt a presence he hasn’t felt since.....Padme. Since he felt his unborn child through the force. His child is alive. Sidious lied. The Jedi took his son from him. They will all pay. So here is what would happen if Vader sensed, found and raised Luke.

Darth Vader would’ve killed Owen and Beru instantly and burned the Lars homestead

Obi-Wan would rush to face Vader. Vader would overpower Obi-Wan, mortally wound him and throw him into the burning homestead and use the force to crush the roof onto an unconscious Obi-Wan

Darth Vader would hold a baby Luke in his hands and for some reason Luke is not afraid, but drawn to this dark figure.

Vader would simply say “Luke. Son...”

Vader takes Luke to his castle on Mustafar

Obi-Wan would crawl out of the remains of the Lars Homestead. Injured, but alive. Obi-Wan failed. He contacted Yoda and told him Vader found and took Luke. Yoda will simply tell him “There is another.” All he can do is call Bail for transport to Alderaan. He failed Luke, but he will not fail Leia.

Bail and Breha would teach Leia about politics and Obi-Wan would train Leia to become a Jedi

Luke would spend his entire childhood to adulthood in the depths of Fortress Vader. Training and submerging himself in the dark side of the force.

Vader would indoctrinate his son into hating the Jedi. Hating The Emperor and instructing his son that only together could they destroy The Emperor and the last of the Jedi.

By the events of Rogue One/A New Hope. Luke’s training would be complete. “You were weak when I found you. Now your hatred has become your strength. At last the dark side is your ally. Henceforth, you shall be known as Darth Zhoun. Rise, my son.” Source 1. Source 2

Luke would be Vader’s assassin. Carrying out assassinations in the name of the Empire. Killing the last of the Jedi. Enemies of The Empire. His identity is unknown to the Emperor and Rebellion, but his reputation would strike fear in the Rebel Alliance. He is simply known as “Vader’s Shadow.”

Palpatine feels a disturbance in the force, but for some reason, he cannot detect Luke. All he can sense is “a shadow”

Luke fully embraced the dark side and is consumed by it. When Master Shaak Ti tries to turn him away from his path, before killing her(What is this her 5th death????) Luke will say “My father’s fate is my own.”

Vader’s final test for his son would be to pit him against his old Padawan. Luke kills Maul with ease as he decapitates him. Luke uses Ahsoka’s need to save her friends against her and when she attempts to save them, Luke cuts Ahsoka down.

Thrawn would request the aid of Vader, in his stead, Vader once again sends his son. Luke would kill Ezra and save Thrawn. “Lord Vader has need of you, Grand Admiral. Set up the TIE Defenders program in the Unknown Regions and return with a fleet of them.” Thrawn would call off the fleet and let Lord Zhoun deal with the Rebels. Luke would then slaughter the Rebels on Lothal

Sometime after securing Thrawn’s victory on Lothal, as a gift. Thrawn has given Vader and Luke their own personal TIE Defenders.

Vader and Zhoun would slaughter Cal and Cere. The Holocron is theirs.

The existence of Darth Zhoun would only be known to Vader, Admiral Piett and General Veers.(you’ll see why)

Leia had a decade of training. On Alderaan and on Dagobah. Yoda and Obi-Wan together completed Leia’s training. Leia is now a fully fledged Jedi Knight and is ready to lead the Rebellion and confront her father and brother. art source

Yoda and Obi-Wan would tell Leia the truth. Darth Vader is her father and his secret assassin is her brother, Luke. Due to a decade of training, Leia would prove strong and wise enough to learn the truth of her family.

Also Leia would ask about her mother. “Tell me, what was my mother like, my real mother.” “Your mother was Padme Amidala, a senator, queen and a kind and beautiful..” “Strong, was your mother. Believed in peace and diplomacy did she.” “And my father? Was he always Vader?” “Your mother loved your father. Anakin Skywalker was a good man. But he was consumed to stop the people he loved from dying. His mother was killed by the Tusken Raiders on Tatooine and the Emperor seized the opportunity to turn your father to the dark side. One day, your father was plagued by nightmares of Padme dying in childbirth, The Emperor promised him the power to save your mother, but in doing so Anakin became twisted by the dark side and became Darth Vader.”

Leia believes her family could be turned. Obi-Wan would object. He's more machine now than man. Twisted and evil.” When insisting that Luke could be saved. Obi-Wan would be remorseful. “I failed my duty to save Luke, I should have followed Vader and staged a rescue, but you needed to be trained, you were our only hope.”

Leia would be contacted by Bail requesting aid on Scarif. Yoda gives his blessing for Leia to go. Saying Ready to reveal herself to the galaxy, she is. Obi-Wan would join her as he must confront Vader one last time.

Leia and Obi-Wan get there just in time and they save the Rogue One Crew. Jyn personally gives Leia the plans. Obi-Wan tells her. “What is it?” All Leia can tell her master is “Hope.”

Leia would transmit the plans to the Tantive IV where her father would be there to receive the plans.

Vader and Luke board the ship to slaughter the rebels. Before they can get the Death Star plans back. They are confronted by Obi-Wan Kenobi and Leia.

Darth Vader and Obi-Wan would duel similar to how they did in ANH aboard the ship. Leia and Obi-Wan are in desperate need to escape

Leia is able to defensively take down her brother, Obi-Wan momentarily stuns Vader and they escape with the plans.

As The Tantive IV is boarded, Leia and Obi-Wan are able to evade detection and hide in the escape pods with C-3PO and R2-D2

In place of Leia captured by the Empire, it is Bail Organa. Bail gives the plans to his daughter and pleads with Leia to leave with Master Kenobi.

Leia and the droids wander Tatooine for a long walk. All Leia can think is “so much sand. so much fucking sand.”

Leia would store the plans in R2. Just in case something happens.

Leia is guided by Obi-Wan. “We must find passage to save Bail.”

Leia and Obi-Wan finds Mos Eisley Cantina and there they meet Han and Chewie. Leia asks for passage to Alderaan for herself and her droids no questions asked. “Is it a fast ship?” “Fast ship? You’ve never heard of The Millennium Falcon? It's the ship that made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs! I've outrun Imperial starships, not the local bulk-cruisers, mind you.” All Leia can do is roll her eyes and takes Han’s word for it. Leia tells her “Once we get to Alderaan, my father Senator Organa will pay you handsomely. Say 15,000 credits?” Han just smiles that cocky Solo smile and says “you got yourself a deal princess”

Once Leia sees the Falcon. “You fly in that thing? You’re braver than I thought.” Han retorts “She'll make point five past lightspeed. She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts, Princess. I've made a lot of special modifications myself.”

Leia and Han bicker like an old married couple and Chewie just decided “that’s it I ship it” Obi-Wan would see the writing on the walls. “Oh, this is like watching me and Satine”

Bail watches the destruction of Alderaan

Leia would convince Han to help her free her father. Han is hesitant, but Leia will insist “my father will be very grateful, I’m sure we can triple the rewar-” Han would say so quickly “DONE!”

Han and Leia are pretty much battle couple goals while taking down Stormtroopers and Imperial Officers in the detention center.

Leia saves her father and embraces him in a hug.

Vader and Obi-Wan duels and Obi-Wan sacrifices himself to save Leia and Bail

Bail is forever in Han’s debt. He saved his life and his daughter’s life. He will pay Han anything. Being indebted to a Hutt is no way to live a life. He pays Han what he’s owed, but asks if he can join the Rebellion after clearing the debt as the Rebellion is in dire need of good pilots. Chewie is all for it, but Han is having none of it, but looks at Leia and says “I’m not saying yes, Senator, but...maybe.” Bail sees that he’s looking at Leia and says “I see” and knows he fancies his daughter.

Leia would fly in her personal Jedi X-wing Starfighter(Just imagine a mix between Anakin’s Jedi Starfighter and an X-Wing) during the Battle Of Yavin IV Leia’s hypothetical ship would look like this(source) but realistically it would be colored blue and white

Han would make the save and Leia would destroy the Death Star(btw Han now will not shut up that he saved Leia, ya know in a way, princess I helped destroyed the Death Star. I saved you from Vader and gave you the confidence you needed to destroy the Death Star. Sometimes I amaze even myself. Leia rolls her eyes and smiles...and blushes. Bail notices this and is happy his daughter is in love but knows she will never admit it)

Leia would be knocked out and captured by a Wampa. Leia defeats it.

Han would save Leia. “Don’t worry, your worship I’ll save you.” Leia now wishes for death, he would not stop bringing up saving her during the Death Star, but now she owes him twice. Is the force punishing her?

Darth Vader and Darth Zhoun are on the hunt for the Jedi Princess.

Bail requests Leia and Han to bring Master Yoda back into the fight.

When Han and Leia escape. Bail stays behind. Darth Vader kills him and Leia feels the loss of Bail and breaks down.

Instead of bickering and bantering, Han comforts Leia. Leia embraces Han in a hug and a kiss. Leia lets him in.

Leia and Han make it to Dagobah. Leia is very patient with her old master, but Han thinks he should be bigger. “This is Yoda?” Leia confirms and Chewie says so as well an goes “and how would you know that???” “I fought in the Clone Wars, Han” “Well, what do you want, a medal???”

Chewie would embrace Yoda in a hug. Yoda would warmly greet his old friend. “Chewbacca, missed you I did.”

Leia and Han asks Yoda to return to aid the Rebel Alliance. He doesn't have to fight but advise the leaders as what they must do. Yoda is willing, but first he must complete Leia’s training. With this, Leia tells Han to go and pay off Jabba’s debt. and kisses Han goodbye. Han says “When you’re done, meet me on Bespin, I’m going to see an old friend.”

Meanwhile aboard the Executer, Vader and Luke set in motion the plan to destroy The Emperor. Everyone aboard The Executer, especially Admiral Piett and General Veers are loyal to Vader and his son. The Emperor lies in his throne in the safety of the Imperial city, while Lord Vader is a man of action who fights on the front lines with his soldiers. They will stand by Lord Vader and his son, soon more will follow.

Vader’s call with The Emperor happens as same, but Palpatine says “We have a new enemy. There is a great disturbance in the force. The Rebel Princess who destroyed the Death Star.” “She is just a girl, Obi-Wan and her father can no longer help her. “I have a feeling she is the daughter of Anakin Skywalker.” “How is this possible?” “Search your feelings Lord Vader, you know it to be true.” “If she can be turned, she can be a powerful ally.” “Yes...can it be done Lord Vader? “She will join us or die.”

Vader internally is pissed, but also pleased. Vader tells his son. “A Twin Sister, you have a twin sister. If she can be turned, we will destroy The Emperor and rule the galaxy as a family.” “What if my sister doesn’t join us?” “Then she will die.

Leia’s training is complete. Yoda dubs Leia the rank of Jedi Master. Leia senses Han is in danger. Yoda tells her to go. “Be here, I shall be. May the force be with you, Master Leia.”

Despite paying off his debt to Jabba, Vader still intends to test Han Solo into carbonite freezing him. And Jabba would be overjoyed to have Han as a decoration.

Vader orders Luke to bring his sister in the fold or kill her. “As you wish, father.”

Leia is too late. She sees Han frozen in carbonite.

Leia feels the presence of her brother. They duel and they evenly matched. One wrong move and the fight is over. Luke cuts Leia’s hand off and asks his sister to join him and his father. Leia defiantly refuses. “Vader killed my master and my true father, I’LL NEVER JOIN YOU!” “The Jedi betrayed our father. turned our mother against him and had us separated, luckily he found me and rescued me. With our combined strength, we can destroy the Emperor and bring order to the galaxy as a family.” Leia refuses and falls..

Thanks to Yoda guiding Lando and Chewie, they find her just in time.

Despite not having Leia, Vader and Luke has everything they need to pull a coup on The Emperor

Vader has his son. Admiral Piett. Grand Admiral Thrawn. The Death Squadron. Death Troopers. A legion of TIE Defenders and more and more are drawn to Vader. Vader and Zhoun make their attack on Coruscant.

Darth Vader and Darth Zhoun face Palpatine. The Throne room is lit up with force lightning and crimson blades. The battle is powerful and raw, but ultimately Luke and Vader overpower The Emperor. There is nowhere where Palpatine can escape to. Not Exegol or anywhere. Vader decapitates his old master.

Vader broadcasts to the galaxy. “The Emperor is dead. I am now your Emperor. Those who serve me and my son, you will achieve greatness as we bring order to the galaxy. Those who stay loyal to The Emperor, die.” There would be a small civil war, but eventually all those who stayed loyal to Palpatine would be rounded up and killed.

Leia rescues Han. Leia does not resort to allowing herself to be captured. Nor does Leia need to be forced to wear that slave outfit. Leia gives Jabba one chance to free Han. Jabba refuses and since a Jedi would be impossible to be enslaved, he plans to feed Leia to his pet Rancor. That would be Jabba’s undoing. Leia would use animal bond/beast control on the Rancor and successfully tames the beast. After Leia convinces the Rancor to help her, Leia unleashes the beast on Jabba and his men Source

Leia unfreezes Han, rescues Chewie, Lando and the droids.

In addition to rescuing Han, Leia also rescues Oola and all the slaves in Jabba’s palace.

Leia and Han would fight Boba Fett. With Boba Fett at their mercy, Leia decides to save him. Leia thinking “he could be so much more.” Han makes the decision to save him. Han and Boba Fett finally bury their rivalry and leave it in the past and shake hands. Boba would declare that Han’s bounty will no longer exists and he won’t chased by him and exits the story. This would work because it would show that Han has grown from the rogue who would shot a man dead without question in ANH to someone who is willing to find an alternate solution to his problems. It’d also give some layers to Boba Fett of being a man of honor.

Yoda dies, but tells her that she is the only hope in saving her brother and stopping Vader.

With Vader as Emperor, he has no intentions with building a second Death Star. Instead he intends to wipe out the Rebellion from the face of the galaxy.

Luke feels a pull to the light. After a life of darkness and evil, Luke feels remorse. He sees what his father as Emperor is doing is wrong and if he feels these feelings, it’s all over.

The Rebellion plans to make one last ditch effort to end the Empire once and for all. A Coup. The battle on the ground would now take place in the Imperial City and the area surrounding the Imperial Palace. The dogfights between X-Wings and TIE Fighters would take place in the skies above instead of in space. The confrontation between Leia, Luke and Vader and would take place in the Imperial Palace in The Emperor's Throne Room.

Leia would contact Luke in order to get close to the palace.

Leia feels the conflict within her brother. Luke is trying to keep her out. Eventually Leia gets in and pleads with her brother to help him destroy Vader. But Luke takes her before Vader

Vader taunts Leia that the Rebellion will die today, but they can all be saved if she gives in to the dark side and joins her family

Vader forces Luke and Leia to fight to the death. Only one can serve him. Leia refuses to join him, but Vader and Luke are not giving her a choice.

Leia and Luke’s duel is a mix between Anakin/Obi-Wan and Vader/Luke in terms of how the fight would go. In the end. Neither Luke nor Leia can kill the other. They both deactivate their lightsabers and embrace in a hug. For the first time in a long time, Luke’s yellow eyes turn blue. This ignites the wrath of their father.

Vader force chokes both his children with full intentions of killing them. The only thing that can save them? Leia remembers on what Obi-Wan spoke about her mother. “Our mother was Padme Amidala.” Vader is stunned and enraged by the mere mention of her name. All Vader can say is “Do. Not. Say. Her. Name.”

Vader ignites his lightsaber preparing to kill. While Luke and Leia are ready to defend themselves. Luke lands a strike that is similar to Ahsoka’s where Vader’s face is visibly seen

With Vader down. Leia continues to speak about her mother. “She was kind and beautiful. You were deceived and betrayed by The Emperor. He turned you from the most compassionate Jedi Knight to ever live into a dark lord. You do not have to be this way. You are free. You and Luke are free. Padme loved you. Obi-Wan loved you. You are Anakin Skywalker, our father. Call off the fleet and let us bring peace to the galaxy as a family.”

Anakin concedes to his children.

The war is over. The Empire has ended. Vader agrees to whatever punishment the Rebellion has for him.

Leia is in charge of Luke. Leia helps Luke on his path of atonement.

Vader is sentenced for execution. His final request. “Let me see my children one last time.” Leia and Luke are saddened, but Anakin assures his children he has made peace with his fate. His final request from his children is to take his mask off. “ Just for once, let me look on you with my own eyes.”

#Star Wars #Darth Vader #Jedi Leia #Sith!Luke #Luke Skywalker #Leia Organa #Dark!Luke #Obi Wan Kenobi #Yoda #Han Solo #Hanleia #Emperor Sheev Palpatine

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writersmorgue · 3 years

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I'm in a nightmare but I didn't fall asleep

TW: noncon, vague description of said noncon, kidnapping, non-consensual oral sex

17+ to interact

“That’s TWO out of three sports festivals you lost, Shouto. I’m beyond disappointed in you.” Endeavor’s booming voice leaves nothing to the imagination as it echoes across the barren stadium halls.

Well, almost barren.

Sero cringes from his hiding place behind the nearest wall, making eye contact with Bakugo next to him whose brows are furrowed in concentration.

“You know what, I’m fucking done. You’re going to give me one thing, and it’s going to be the future number one hero. A hero who will beat All Might, something you will NEVER do. My faith in you has been destroyed. I’ll tell them to retrieve you on Friday.”

Shouto makes a choked noise, and the two boys look at each other in confusion.

“Father please, you don’t mean-”

“I absolutely do. I gave you three chances Shouto! You’ve wasted my time and money, and now you’re going to be used like the useless bitch you are. Only serving me one purpose.”

“Please I can do better! Please don’t take me I promise I’ll make it worth your resources- AGH!” There’s a strangled shout as Endeavor grabs his daughter’s long ponytail in his flaming fist, charring the white hair

“You will do no such thing, and don’t even try escaping, I’ll hire more men if I have to. You will be useful.” There’s a scraping sound as Shouto drags her feet as she’s pulled away.

A shrill scream lets out, quickly cut off as Endeavor’s scorching palm slams over his daughter’s mouth with a sharp shut up.

Sero turns to Bakugo, gulping, as he raises a pointed thumb towards the exiting duo, “Uh, that didn’t sound good.”

Bakugo purses his lips, “No, it did not.”

Endeavor shoves Shouto into the van head first and she tumbles in, careful to mind the several men surrounding her as she skids to a stop.

“I don’t care how you go about this, you’re all suitable donors. Get her pregnant in a timely manner. Do what you want with her when the baby is born.”

Shouto whimpers as the door is slammed shut, locking her in complete darkness with a group of unfamiliar voices as they discuss who gets to fuck her first.

Her right ankle is grabbed as the van begins to move, the first man growls as she tries to pull away, and his grip tightens.

She screams, hoping someone will hear her. Her mouth burns from her father’s hand.

“NO!!! LET GO! I DON’T WANT IT!” The sound of zippers undoing around her head is what finally sets her off.

Her flame erupts, burning half of her competition shirt, save for her specially made sports bra, and singes the second-place medal strap around her neck. The disc clanks on the metal floor and the men around her shout with frustration.

“He said we could do what we want-” One of them grunts, patting some embers off of his shirt, “Someone subdue the bitch.”

Her head is slammed down onto the metal floor, and she fades away.

“Did-” Sero’s voice cracks, and he doesn’t continue.

“Yup.” Bakugo nods, explosions popping behind him as they sprint towards the speeding van, “He just facilitated the rape of a fucking minor.”

“A MINOR!?” Sero screeches, fumbling his tape as it catches on a tree branch, launching him forward “That’s not just a fucking minor, Katsuki, that’s our fucking FRIEND.”

“SHUT UP!!” Bakugo yells right back, “I’m sort of busy trying to save her ass. Obviously, since that van isn’t a puddle she can’t get out on her own. Probably quirk proof or some shit, knowing the asshole.”

“I’m calling Aizawa.” Sero reaches one hand back to his pocket to get his phone.

Bakugo grunts something that sounds like an affirmation.

A few moments later Aizawa’s gruff voice is asking who the hell is calling him at this hour.

“Aizawa-sensei!!”

“What, Sero.”

“So um, Todoroki! She, um, her dad!!-”

Bakugo growls and snatches the phone, blasting himself with just his left arm. Sero would be impressed if he wasn’t screaming internally as the van takes a sharp left, causing them to slow.

“IcyHot has been kidnapped by her dad.”

“Bakugo, I’m pretty sure that’s called having a child legally, give Sero his pho-”

“No you don’t fucking understand!!” Bakugo shouts, “We watched him drag her away and shove her in a fucking van with a bunch of assholes. He told them to rape her Aizawa. She’s been fucking kidnapped.”

“I- you’re joking.” Aizawa’s slight increase in background noise indicates he’s finally taking action, but the goddamn attitude sets Bakugo the fuck off.

“WHY WOULD I JOKE ABOUT THIS YOU OLD BASTARD!!”

“No, you’re right, sorry. I’m getting Nedzu and sending Midoriya your way.”

“NOT FUCKING DEKU”

“Bakugo Katsuki you will shut up and help your classmate with whoever I send to you or you will be expelled.”

“FUCKIN’- whatever old man. We’re just passing the corner store.”

He shuts the phone off before throwing it carelessly at Sero.

“Bakugo!!” Sero whines as he misses the catch and watches his phone shatter on the pavement.

“Not my fault you can’t catch.” Bakugo retorts, speeding up and launching himself at the van.

Sero follows close behind.

They hear a rhythmic thumping from the inside, Bakugo pales.

“Fuck I think they’re-”

“All the more reason we should blow this fucking van open!” Sero shouts into the wind, shooting tape onto the door handle and yanking the entire thing off.

He pulls the nearest guy out by his leg and throws him onto the median.

“C’mon dipshits!! Quit-”

All fight drains out of him, instead replaced with blinding fury, when he sees Shouto.

Practice uniform already torn to shreds, she’s bleeding profusely from somewhere on her head right onto the cold metal floor of the moving van. Surrounded by several other grown-ass men, all staring at Bakugo like deer in headlights, she’s knocked out cold at their feet.

“You bASTARDS!!” He screeches, storming into the van and grabbing Shouto’s limp body into his arms, thankfully her pants seem to be relatively unharmed, it’s the glistening by her slack mouth that has Katsuki concerned.

The men seem to be too shocked to retaliate, but one of them stands, seeming to prepare some sort of excuse. Sero is faster.

Hanta whips through the vehicle, grabbing both Katsuki and Shouto with his tape, flipping the van onto its side in the process, and carrying all three of them out the other door.

The human scum scatter onto the pavement as the students roll, relatively unharmed, into a parking lot. It’s somewhere in those few seconds when Aizawa arrives, followed by a somewhat feral Midoriya.

“Where’s Shouto,” He picks one of the men up by their collar, throwing him violently back onto the asphalt when he sees his three friends laying in a heap a couple dozen yards away.

“SHOUTO!” He calls, practically teleporting to their location and digging through Katsuki and Sero to reach her.

“Jeez we’re fine too, Deku, thanks for wondering.”

Izuku rolls his eyes, pulling Shouto’s limp body into his arms, “Is she- what happened?”

Sero starts nervously explaining, wringing his hands as he looks back and forth between Shouto’s unconscious form and Izuku’s increasingly rage-filled eyes.

He WHAT?!” Green lightning crackles over his skin, stopped abruptly with a firm hand from Aizawa on his shoulder.

Aizawa walks over and crouches, pulling a swab out of his scarf, “Had Momo make me one,” He grunts at Sero’s confused expression.

He sighs, reaching over to Shouto’s face and swiping it around her lips, “Unfortunately I figured we’d need it.” He tucks it into a plastic bag and stuffs both into his suit pocket.

Katsuki huffs, an unreadable expression fixed on his face as he stares down at the girl.

“They got her pretty good,” He reaches a hand out and tucks a strand of hair over, so Aizawa can get a look at her head injury, “probably tried to put up a fight.”

The teacher nods, “and you heard her father approve this- kidnapping?”

“Yes sir,” Sero speaks up, and Midoriya growls.

“I fuckin’ knew he was bad news,” Katsuki scoffs, “always draggin’ her around and shit. Probably paid for them to fuck her up too. Said he wanted her knocked up.”

“He,” Sero’s voice is strained, “he said she was a disappointment that he was giving up on her. She knows that’s not true- right?”

Aizawa hums, pulling out a bandage to wrap Shouto’s head, “well you’ll just have to show her.”

The boys make eye contact, and Izuku pulls her closer.

“Yeah,” Katsuki agrees, “we will.”

Shouto wakes up screaming, clawing at her face as blood begins to seep down her cheeks.

“Todoroki wait!!! Todoroki you’re okay! They’re gone!

Hands pry her bloodied nails away and her energy is sucked away as a kiss is pressed to her cheek.

“You kids I swear, never a dull moment.” Recovery girl tuts.

She passes out again.

The next time is much calmer, warm light pools around her eyelids and she cracks them open, reaching a hand up to rub the sleep out of them. But in doing so she jostles the hand that had been resting on her own.

“Todoroki?” Sero whispers, raising his head up slowly, eyes widening, “Todoroki!!”

He lunges forward, encasing Shouto in a bear hug.

“Oi, hands off, she’s in a hospital bed for fuck’s sake tape face.”

“Right,” Sero smiles sheepishly, pulling back, “right sorry.

“It’s okay,” Shouto admits, because she really has no idea why there’s any need to be careful, “I’m fine.”

“Oh?” Katsuki’s raised eyebrows suggest she said something wrong, “You call a nasty concussion and almost clawing your own eyes out fucking fine? Guess we have different definitions of the word.”

Shouto frowns, “I don’t remember that last bit.”

Her head hurts slightly, but she feels like she would remember something like that even through a concussion.

She tracks her memory back to before, but she can’t quite seem to remember-

The van, the men, the smell, the sound as he shoved his-

“Shouto?”

She snaps her head up, “Huh?”

“Sorry, you were quiet for a bit,” Midoriya rests a hand on her blanketed leg and rubs it back and forth, “god nervous. You alright?”

They’re all staring at her now.

“Does he know I’m here?”

All three sets of eyes darken, but it’s Midoriya who speaks up.

“He doesn’t matter. Aizawa has custody of you as of now. Your pitiful excuse for a sperm donor has been taken into police custody for aiding in the rape and kidnapping of a minor.”

Shouto gets a distant look in her eye, “Oh” is all she says.

“They didn’t get that far,” Sero gestures to her bandaged torso, where one of the men had tried to take off her uniform pants.

“But they still-” She begins, suddenly nauseous.

“Yeah, they did. And that bastard has been taken into custody just like the rest of em’, he’s not getting out for awhile, especially since the DNA samples matched.” Bakugo informs her.

“Oh,” Shouto hums absently, “there were samples.”

“Shouto, you with us?” Midroriya squeezes her ankle gently, but she doesn’t respond, “Everything’s gonna be alright now. You can rest.”

And she does.

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maggiec70 · 3 years

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Prince Bagration Makes a Cameo Appearance

Another excerpt from the longest-running histfic draft. This is for Tairin. I hope I did her prince justice, small though it may be.

Jean’s staff found a two-story house large enough for them all in a northern Viennese suburb. General Compans ordered the portly, red-faced owner and his large family to leave, slipping him a fistful of gold coins before he could protest. Mariana couldn’t tell how many coins constituted a fistful, but they produced an incredulous expression on the man’s face and then a deep bow that revealed his blindingly bald, pink pate. There must be a secret source of gold coins that only Compans and Thomières knew about, perhaps hidden away in a sturdy oak box labeled Bribes. She had seen these coins appear whenever Jean wanted to sleep somewhere other than a barn or outside on the ground for several days. She also knew only a very few marshals and generals bothered to compensate the people whose lives they disrupted or even thought to do so.

“Don’t wreck the place,” Compans ordered them after the Viennese family had bustled out the door, their personal belongings tied up in large, unwieldy bundles.

“Why would we?” she asked Joseph as two adjutants added more wood to a fire in the large stone hearth. She wondered how much food she might find in the kitchen cupboards and the spacious pantry leading from the kitchen. Indeed, the life expectancy of the well-fed hens she’d seen in the dooryard was measured in minutes.

“It was a pro forma reminder,” Joseph replied. “We’ve never been a horde of Vandals or Huns, and the marshal knows it.” He grinned at her and stretched so much that he almost slid out of his chair. “I can’t say the same about Prince Murat’s cavalry or anyone in Marshal Augereau’s VII Corps. Now there’s a collection of seasoned plunderers—as bad as one of the plagues of Egypt, but not, I think, as dedicated to looting as Marshal Masséna.”

Later that evening, with a cold November wind safely outside and warmth and food inside, she sipped her second cup of rich coffee laced with cream from the black and white cow standing up to her knees in hay in the barn. “After ages in Purgatory, I’ve been given my reward.”

“Savor your taste of Paradise, Gabriel, while you can. We’re leaving in a couple of days,” Jacques said, unhooking his cloak and shaking sleet from it.

“Why? The Austrians surrendered at Ulm almost four weeks ago, and we’re north of Vienna with no Austrians anywhere that I can see. There isn’t anyone to fight.”

Jacques poured coffee from a porcelain pot and backed up to the fire. “Don’t you read the dispatches, Gabriel?”

“Not often—they’re boring.”

“Well, you should. We hadn’t seen the Austrian army because it left Vienna right before we arrived. Now they’ve gone further north, with General Kutuzov’s Russians.”

“Who’s Kutuzov?” she asked, trying not to yawn in his face. She really should pay more attention to the dispatches and reports. If Jean ever asked her about the campaign's minutia, she had better know enough to answer. She’d seen what happened when an officer couldn’t tell Jean what he wanted to know and didn’t want to subject herself to the humiliation of a profanity-laced public rebuke.

“Some clever Russian general, older than God. He’s heading for Moravia, though, not Mother Russia.”

Mariana remembered Jacques’s words three days later. Ejected from the warm stone house before dawn, she bundled up in her heavy cloak and gloves and rode out of Vienna with the rest of V Corps. Now, close to midnight, she didn’t think Moravia was anywhere close or warmer than Russia. It was full dark when they rode into a tiny hamlet so small they would have missed it if the scouts and leading edges of Oudinot’s grenadiers hadn’t literally stumbled over it. Snow topped with a thin layer of rime covered the cottage roofs, garden walls, the rough pathway serving as a street, and stubble in the surrounding fields. The inhabitants had shuttered every window, but thin cracks of pale yellow light escaped from some of them.

“They’re more afraid of the Russians than they are of us,” Jean said in response to her question. Each word came out on a small puff of white, as her own had done. Soon it might be too cold to talk. “If you looked in those barns, you’d find nothing but old straw. There’s nothing of value in the cottages, either. If the villagers had enough warning, they would have hidden everything, and if not, the Russians have it all now.”

Mariana had never seen a hamlet this small before or so eerily deserted. The barrenness she saw in the faint snow light and that Jean had described made her shiver. This time the cold struck deep in her bones.

“We’ll be sleeping outside, gentlemen, on the other side of Hollabrünn and eating whatever we have with us. It will be a short night anyway—the enemy’s less than six miles ahead.” Jean spurred his horse forward over the little village track, and the rest followed, riding close enough to brush each other’s stirrups. Mariana wrapped the reins around one wrist and massaged her hands and fingers inside her gloves, afraid to take them off. The idea of trying to sleep on the frozen, iron-hard ground was dreadful. If the Russians were so close, and if Jean meant to attack them in the morning, she might as well sit up all night. If she didn’t freeze before dawn, then a brisk encounter with the enemy, even hand to hand, would warm her up nicely. “Aunt Lucrezia, you would be appalled,” she whispered through stiff lips cracked and bleeding from the cold.

Despite her plan to sit up all night, Mariana had just fallen asleep, curled into a tight ball, knees drawn up nearly beneath her chin, when Joseph shook her into befuddled wakefulness. “Get up, Gabriel,” he said, peeling her cloak away. We’re leaving now.”

She staggered to her feet, grabbed her cloak back from Joseph, and buttoned it up tight. “No breakfast?”

“No time for any. There’s a small Russian rear-guard ahead. We have to eliminate it before it reaches Kutuzov.”

Mariana didn’t mind not eating as much as she minded not having something hot to drink. However, the worst prospect was having to do the necessary at the edge of the forest to her left. She still thought it was manifestly unfair that lately, she nearly froze whenever she pissed, while her comrades did not. An inequality, however, that she was powerless to alter one whit.

Having concluded her business in the forest, she hurried to untie Odysseus from the picket line, tighten his girth, and climb into the saddle. She trotted off to join the aides, who waited in a nearly silent group, close together, their horses impatiently stamping the hard ground. Without a word, they swung around and fell in behind Jean and General Compans. She wanted to know how far away the Russian rear-guard was and how many Russians comprised a rear-guard, but she couldn’t make her lips move.

General Thomières saved her the trouble. “Excellency, how many troops does Bagration have ahead of us?”

While she wondered who Bagration was, Jean slowed his horse to respond to his senior aide. “Fewer than I have, even though I’m short two divisions and even shorter of supplies. Neither the weather nor the ground is good for much but a short skirmish.”

The air was so silent and frigid that Mariana heard the intonation beneath his words that often meant more than the words themselves. He sounded confident rather than cocky or foolhardy. A short skirmish, he’d said, and that was fine with her.

The encounter between Bagration’s rear-guard and V Corps’ grenadiers, reinforced at the last possible moment by a squadron of Murat’s heavy cavalry, was not a skirmish. Mariana thought it was more like a brawl in some wayside tavern, loud, fast, and disorganized. It ended before she’d had a chance to do anything and because Bagration told Prince Murat that he had just learned about a truce. The prince believed him, dismounted, told Jean to order his troops to cease fire, and went inside a slightly shell-shocked villa that had been some Moravian aristocrat’s summer home.

“A truce? What the fuck is he talking about? I had the damn Russians on their arses, and he rides in and orders me to stop!” Jean was livid, his expression as hard as granite. Mariana worried what he might do when he jumped from his horse, leaving the reins to trail in the snow, and stomped after Murat. Acting on instinct, aides, chief of staff, and a few senior adjutants closed around him like a protective wall and entered the villa together.

Intended for soft summer breezes, the villa struggled to combat the mid-November cold. Fires burned in hearths at either end of the reception chamber’s black and white tiled floor. Clear glass bottles filled with colorless liquid stood among scores of crystal glasses on heavily carved tables in the center of the room. Someone had shoved chairs and settees against the walls. Officers in uniforms Mariana had never seen before crowded around the tables, opening bottles, pouring liquid into glasses, and handing them around. She watched Prince Murat take a sip, then drain it and hold it out for someone to fill. She watched Jean barrel forward, his expression still thunderous, until a tall officer with the face of a young eagle and enough medals on his chest to blind half a dozen men stepped forward and intercepted him. Together they moved away from Murat and his entourage and stood by one of the double windows, heads bent close together, talking. Another officer approached them, two glasses on a silver tray, and quickly left when they took the glasses and continued their conversation. When Major Guéhéneuc tried to insinuate himself into the conversation, Jean turned on him like an enraged wasp. The major scuttled away, staring at the floor, his face scarlet. Mariana rocked back on her boot heels, a smirk spreading across her face.

As voices rose around her, followed by the rank odor of damp wool and unwashed males, Mariana felt the beginnings of a headache. To take her mind off it, she asked Thomières, “What are they talking about? And who is that Russian?”

He laughed, a soft sound but not derisive. She was glad since she rarely spoke to him at length. “I haven’t the slightest idea what they’re talking about, but that’s Prince Pyotr Ivanovich Bagration the marshal’s talking to.” He laughed again, this time even softer as if he worried someone might overhear. “Talking now, fighting later. Fine looking general, though, don’t you think?”

“Indeed he is,” Mariana said. With his chiseled features and thick, dark hair, the tall, slender Russian looked a little like Jean. Big rooster and bantam rooster, she thought, and almost hooted with laughter. When she could trust herself to speak, she asked, “What’s in the bottles?”

“Vodka. Have you never tasted it?”

“I’ve never even heard of it.”

“Then allow me, lieutenant,” Thomières said and escorted her to the nearest table. Rummaging among the glasses, he found two relatively clean ones and filled them from one of the bottles. “Salut,” he said, threw back his head, and drank it down.

She sniffed at the clear liquid. It had no odor. Since Thomières was still standing, how dangerous could it be? She drank hers in a single gulp, and the alcohol burned all the way to her stomach, where it exploded. Tears flooded her eyes, she sneezed and then coughed. One cough led to several until Thomières pounded her on the back and filled her glass.

“Quick—drink this.”

She did and stopped coughing. This time the vodka felt smooth as silk, and she grinned at the senior aide. “You should have warned me.”

“And miss your reaction?” He filled her glass for the third time, but before she could drink it, four Russian officers joined them at the table, clutching their glasses filled to the brim and sloshing onto their dingy white gloves. Their faces were clean-shaven except for amazingly full side-whiskers, their cheeks brick red in the candlelight. Raising their glasses, they shouted in unison, “Za vashe zdorovye!” When they had downed every last drop, they tossed their glasses toward the fireplace. The sound of shattering crystal brought to a halt every conversation in the spacious room, and then other Russians began throwing their empty glasses to the floor.

“Why not?” Thomières said and threw his glass toward the hearth.

“Indeed!” Mariana replied and threw hers, too.

Whatever Jean and Bagration may have been discussing, or whatever Prince Murat may have believed about the alleged truce, or whatever the French and Russian officers thought about the prospect of imminent hostilities between them, everything disappeared beneath the sharp-edged sound of crystal shattering and the roars of toasts in French and Russian. Mariana linked arms with Thomières to keep from reeling and tried to get her tongue around the consonant-laden Russian words. Somehow, they sounded more satisfactory than light, polite French phrases and better suited to the vodka, of which she had become quite fond in no time at all.

Jean summoned aides and staff officers with a sharp whistle that penetrated the merriment and stalked out of the villa and into the icy, starlit night. The sudden cold jolted Mariana from her torpor, and the sharp air stung her eyes and nose. Her comrades showed similar symptoms of waking from a muddled sleep, and she wondered what might have happened had they stayed and emptied all those bottles.

#prince bagration #vodkatime #Jean Lannes

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buckleysjareau · 3 years

Text

wish i could keep you in amber, safe from the outside

Neither of them say anything as Eddie takes shelter in Buck’s arms, face tucked in the crook of his neck, sheltered from all the bad that’s happened. A safe place.

He can only hope that he’s Buck’s safe place, too.

In which Eddie and Buck are struggling after the shooting and they finally have a much needed talk.

Content warning - very non descriptive depictions of war, mentions of blood, suicide statistics and past suicidal thoughts!

(Read on AO3)

Incoming!

Break, break, break! We’re pinned down and we’re taking fire, two clicks north of our last reported position.

Prepare for—

Boom!

Norwahl, stand down! You gotta get out! What the hell is wrong with you? Norwahl!

Pain.

Major 6-4, what’s your ETA?

Dust off, 47. ETA six minutes.

We don’t have six minutes.

Diaz, keep low. Don’t stop.

Wake up!

Diaz! I’m black on ammo!

Go! Go! Go!

Diaz, he’s dead!

Diaz, you okay?

He’s screaming.

He’s out of ammo— he’s got no other moves left in him. The pain is excruciating.

Shannon. Christopher.

I’m sorry…

He clutches his Saint Christopher medal and he can’t stop the tears.

Pain.

Shannon.

To protect you, to keep you safe.

–

Eddie shoots up, arms flailing and screaming out something he’s not even sure is comprehensible. His heart is beating out of his chest, won’t stop, and he can’t seem to catch his breath.

Then his surroundings start to filter in and his eyes land on his son—wait, Christopher?!

“Chris?” He chokes out, the all consuming fear he couldn’t shake from the nightmare making words hard to speak. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

“Did you have a bad dream?” Christopher asks as he reaches forward to cup his face, wiping away a tear. Eddie almost breaks. He didn’t deserve this kid.

“Yeah, bud, I did.” He admits with a crack in his voice.

He’d had that nightmare almost nightly for three weeks after he’d woken up in a hospital bed, his shoulder hurting the way it had when he woke in Afghanistan—Buck by his side being the one thing that stopped him from thinking he was back there.

It’s been almost two months since that day, and Eddie kept telling himself—and everyone else— that he was fine. That he was talking about it, facing it so he could heal from it. Which wasn’t exactly a lie, he was talking about it with Frank. He just wasn’t exactly facing it as much as Frank is trying to get him to and—he wasn’t exactly fine.

His heart races whenever he’s outside, subconsciously scanning his surroundings for anything suspicious. He’s constantly alert to everything going on around him—sights, sounds, smells.

The nightmares started to happen less and less, though, and he could move his shoulder without wincing, the pain down to a dull ache. He was cleared to return to work by his doctors and by Frank. He was ready to go back.

Or so he thought, until their first call. They were called to a car wreck on Twelfth Street and he hadn’t realized just where that was until the truck pulled up. He’d felt Buck tense up next to him, Eddie’s own muscles tensing right after him.

Despite Bobby saying he could sit this call out, Eddie declined and pushed past the pounding in his heart, the tightness in his chest and the instinct to duck under the truck when a car backfired near them to do his job.

He managed to keep it together the rest of his shift. He kept it together on the car ride home, which he has Buck to thank for that. He kept it together through dinner with Carla, Christopher and Buck.

He kept it together until his head hit his pillow and he could finally break down a little. He’d perfected the silent tears a long time ago, when he was still under his parents’ roof and was taught that crying made him weak.

He cries until his heart is tired and his eyes flutter shut, no energy to fight the sleep that he knows won’t be peaceful.

That’s what leads to where he finds himself now, grasping to stay in touch with this reality as his son wipes away the tears in his eyes, soothing him.

“You’re going to be okay, dad.” He whispers and Eddie chokes out a laugh.

“When did you get so grown up?” He sniffles before opening his arms wide. “What do you say, you want to stay the night here with me? It’s been a while since you’ve slept in here.”

Which he’s grateful for because that means Christopher hasn’t been subjected to a nightmare in a long time. But the nights Christopher crawled into his bed after a nightmare didn’t just only help his kid.

Chris settles in next to him and rests his head on his shoulder, and for the first time in so long, Eddie feels calm. Peaceful.

He glances down at his son, who’s already asleep once again, and he can’t stop the tears that build in his eyes at the thought that he’d almost left him—again.

Diaz, you want to ride with the kid to the hospital?

Yeah, that’d be gr—

His son had already lost his mom, and because of someone with a stupid vengeance, a really close call almost took his father away from him too.

His emotions are strangling him not for the first time that night. He refuses to wake his son twice in one night, but he feels like he’ll suffocate from the lump in his throat if he doesn’t let it out, so he carefully stands up from the bed without moving his son too much.

He moves to the bathroom out in the hall, shutting the door behind him before he catches his reflection in the mirror. The bags and dark circles under his eyes make him look like a zombie, brown eyes tearful and dull. The look is familiar to the one he wore for months after he got home from Afghanistan.

Greggs is dead.

The others aren’t, thanks to you.

Greggs...died on impact.

And you pulled him out anyway. You got them all out, Staff Sergeant Diaz.

You did good, Diaz.

Doesn’t feel like enough.

Splashing his face with water does its job to bring him back to the present but does little to help the lifelessness behind his eyes.

“Eddie!”

At the frightened call of his name, Eddie is suddenly ready and alert for any incoming danger.

He stands with his hand on the handle to the bathroom door, standing still, listening out for the call again.

“Eddie! No!”

He’s off without a second thought, fast but quietly running towards the living room where he knows Buck is sleeping.

“Let me go! Eddie!”

Eddie’s heart is in his throat at the agony in his best friend’s cries and the sight of him thrashing so bad he’s started to move the couch.

A sob erupts from Buck’s lip and that’s what kicks Eddie into action. He’s in front of the couch on the coffee table, not too close to crowd him but close enough to reach out if needed.

“Buck, wake up, it’s okay. I’m okay, you just have to wake up. It’s just a dream.”

He tries to reach him with words but nothing seems to be getting through, so he reaches forward and shakes him, his name on his lips, and braces for the impact of flailing arms and kicking legs. Nothing comes.

Except the broken sob around Eddie’s name.

The tears well up behind his eyes once again but this time, he pushes them back. The first thing Buck sees when he’s shaken out of his nightmare should not be Eddie crying.

He squeezes down on his shoulder once more and that’s what seems to do the trick. Buck shoots up on the couch, Eddie’s name leaving his lips on a scream, hands clawing at the blankets in front of him—clawing at the blankets like he’d clawed to get away from Mehta to get to Eddie.

“Eddie!”

“Buck, Buck, it’s okay, I’m okay. I’m right here. It was just a dream. Buck, look at me!”

Eddie, look at me! Look at me, man, come on. Stay awake!

Buck freezes when his eyes finally land on him, but before Eddie can let out a sigh of relief that he’d gotten through to him, Buck is gripping his shirt just over where the bullet went through and the tremors going through Buck go straight through Eddie from the contact.

“We need to stop the bleeding!” He croaks out. “You’re losing so much blood. There’s so much blood.”

Shit. Buck might be awake, but his mind isn’t there with the rest of him yet.

“Hey, Buck, there’s no blood. Okay? There’s no blood. I’m fine, I’m all patched up—”

He pulls the bottom of his shirt up as much as he can and uses his other hand to move Buck’s hand from the grip on his shirt to the scar just under his shoulder.

“—see? You helped stop the bleeding. I’m okay, Buck, because you saved me. We’re not back there. You’re here with me in my living room and I’m with you.”

The fog is slowly starting to clear from his eyes as he traces the scar. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay.” He assures.

Eddie thinks they might be in the clear until Buck looks down at his trembling hands and his breathing picks up, more and more until he’s hyperventilating.

“Get it off—it needs to—make it go away. Get it off of me. It’s all over.” He sobs and Eddie has to clasp both of Buck’s hands in between his own when he starts to roughly rub at his face.

Eddie needed to calm himself down. He needs to stay grounded in this moment because Buck was in front of him, but so far away and needed Eddie to bring him back.

So he takes a deep breath and thinks about how Buck helped him through one of his flashbacks he’d experienced a couple of days after waking up in the hospital.

“Buck, I think you’re having a flashback right now. That’s okay though, because I’m gonna help get you through it, just like you did for me in the hospital.”

Buck whimpers. “The blood—get it off.”

“There is no blood, Buck. Do you hear me? Listen to my voice. It’s Eddie, we’re both safe and okay at my house right now, there’s no blood. If you can hear me, squeeze my hands.”

Eddie relaxes the slightest when there’s a light squeeze around his fingers.

“Good, that’s really good. Do you think you can lift your head for a second?” He smiles at him when he lifts his head and meets his eye. “Look around the room. Describe your surroundings.”

Buck’s grip on Eddie’s hand gets tighter.

“Okay, how about this—” Eddie pauses and looks around the room, finding the object thrown just a little bit across the room and leans forward to grab it. “Take this, Buck. Can you tell me about it? The details? The feeling? Describe it in great detail for me.”

Buck pulls his hands away from Eddie’s and grips the blanket in front of him.

It was a weighted blanket Adriana had given Eddie for his birthday one year, that was however taken by Buck whenever he’d stay over. That weighted blanket was used for comfort by Buck, no matter the mood he was in. It stays at Eddie’s house because Buck is there more often than not, but make no mistake, it was now Buck’s.

Hopefully this helps.

“It’s–It’s weighted.” Buck stutters out.

“Good, good. What else about it?”

“It’s gray…and plaid…”

–

“I’m sorry that I woke you up.” Buck whispers into the quiet kitchen.

Eddie sighs. “You didn’t wake me, I was already up.” He admits.

“Oh. Are you okay?”

He’s already tensing up, like Eddie’s been hiding that something’s been wrong the entire time, like Eddie wasn’t as okay as he was telling Buck he was.

Which, technically would have been a lie if he’d been talking about his mental health—but he was reassuring Buck that he was in good physical health, so, nothing to hide.

Eddie still hesitates. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He continues when Buck raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Physically, I’m okay, I promise. Just had a nightmare.”

It’s completely silent aside from a sharp intake of breath from Buck.

“You’re still having nightmares?” Is what Buck finally asks, voice wavering and quiet.

“You’re having nightmares?” Eddie asks, deflecting but also asking out of concern.

Silence follows after. Buck won’t look up from where his eyes are trained on the mug of tea Eddie had placed in front of him with a look that he’d hoped read I care about you. The heat of his stare could probably heat up the tea on its own, but the look doesn’t deter him, it only makes him more concerned.

Buck, for the most part, was open about how he was feeling. It’s a quality that Eddie adored and often envied. He liked to—had to—talk his feelings out until he could make sense of them. If he didn’t, it would build and fester and eat away at him until he snapped. The lawsuit was one example of what happens when Buck doesn’t talk out how he’s feeling.

He knows he has Doctor Copeland and maybe he’s been talking about it to her, but Eddie can’t get rid of the feeling that this is something that has festered over two months and if that’s the case—

Well, he’s terrified of what Buck will do when he finally snaps.

Up to fifty-four percent of suicides in people with PTSD are attributed to PTSD.

He swallows the lump in his throat as a statistic he’d read in the book Frank had given him about PTSD makes its way to the forefront of his mind. He has to stop himself from physically flinching away from the thought.

It was something he brought up with Frank after he’d read the book at his insistence. The statistic had struck something in him then and the question that followed from Frank had given him a lot to think about.

“Have you recently thought about ending your life?”

It wasn’t a recent thing but it had been an almost consistent thought after he’d gotten back from Afghanistan when his PTSD was at its worst and he hadn’t seen an end to his suffering in sight.

What if Buck has been feeling the same way?

What if one day his trauma gets too much and he— what if he—

No. That’s not going to happen, not if Eddie has anything to say about it.

He breaks the silence.

“Have you talked to Doctor Copeland about how much you’re struggling?”

Still refusing to look at him, Buck mumbles, “I’m not struggling.”

Eddie scoffs. “I believe that.”

“You should.” Buck huffs out.

“You’re allowed to struggle with this, Buck. What happened was—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He cuts Eddie off abruptly, his voice choked.

Eddie crosses the room, pulls out the chair next to Buck from under the table and turns to face it directly at him before sitting down.

“Well, I’m sorry, but we’re going to talk about it.” He says matter-of-factly.

“Eddie,” Buck starts, his tone a warning.

“Buck.” He counters in the same tone.

Buck looks like he’s about to bolt— he knows him well enough to know he won’t, but he still reaches out and gently squeezes Buck’s forearm, not letting go. He can feel how much he’s still shaking and squeezes again in an effort to comfort him—and comfort himself, keep himself and Buck grounded in the present. He’s feeling so on edge himself, so he can’t imagine how Buck must feel after that flashback.

“We haven’t talked about that day. It’s been almost two months and we haven’t talked about what happened.” He swallows. “Have you talked about it to anyone?”

The breath Buck takes in is shaky.

“Why are you so insistent about my struggles when you’re struggling yourself?” His tone is defensive but it has Eddie nodding.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then meets Buck’s eyes. “I am. Struggling.”

It’s the first time Eddie has admitted to anyone outright that he was struggling. He’d talked to Frank, but he only ever said the bare minimum of what he was feeling and he admits he had no plans to continue his sessions with Frank now that it’s not mandatory.

The uncomfortable feeling that always comes with being this vulnerable, even with Buck, starts to buzz under his skin but he continues.

“It’s not something I ever like to admit, you know this...but yeah, Buck, I’m really struggling.”

At the break in his voice, Buck’s hand is suddenly resting on top of the hand that’s holding onto Buck’s forearm. He remains quiet but he gives Eddie a look that said he was listening if he wanted to talk more.

He’s not surprised to find that he does want to talk about it more because talking to Buck has always been easy, no matter how hard the topic was to talk about.

“I was really bad when I came home from Afghanistan after I was given a Silver Star. I was being called a hero by everyone when all I could think was that I didn’t do good enough because Greggs still died, still left three daughters behind.”

Eddie pauses to take a much needed deep breath and turns his hand that’s under Buck’s palm up and grasps onto Buck’s the second their hands connect. Buck squeezing back is enough to get the next words out of his mouth.

“I’m really scared that I’m gonna get that bad again, man.” Eddie whispers his greatest fear. “There have been days where I’ve been terrified to leave the house, thinking that they didn’t actually catch the sniper and I’ll be back there again. I can’t go back there again.”

Buck squeezed his hand again in comfort.

“I’m always going to be here for you, Eds. I won’t let you go back there.” Buck’s voice is no more than a whisper but the sentiment is so loud.

He knows Buck will always be there for him, it’s not a surprise, but the simple promise from his best friend was exactly what he needed to loosen the tightness in his chest for the time being. A sob bubbles past his throat and that’s all it takes for Buck to pull him into his arms and give Eddie the tightest hug he thinks he’s ever received.

Neither of them say anything as Eddie takes shelter in Buck’s arms, face tucked in the crook of his neck, sheltered from all the bad that’s happened. A safe place.

He can only hope that he’s Buck’s safe place, too.

“And I’m always going to be here for you,” Eddie whispers against Buck’s neck after a while.

He feels the moment Buck tenses. He expects him to pull away, to try to convince Eddie he’s not struggling, but instead, Buck sucks in a breath and grips the back of Eddie’s shirt.

“You almost weren’t.”

The choked whisper has Eddie tightening his arms around Buck. “But I’m here now and that’s because of you, okay? You kept me alive.”

He doesn’t just mean the way Buck had gotten him into the safety of the 133’s truck, or the way he did all he could to make sure he hadn’t lost any more blood.

He fought to come home to Christopher, and he fought to come home to Buck. He held on for those two and those two only.

Not Ana, who he should have thought of but she wasn’t who he loved.

It’s a good thing that he hadn’t fought to come back to her, too, because the moment Eddie shut down… she left. He couldn’t blame her, he’d been a wreck when he first came home and his mental health was not on her.

But Buck was there. Buck never left, has never left, will never leave. If Eddie is sure of anything, it’s Buck’s permanency in his life.

He’s going to make damn sure he’s a permanent in Buck’s by fighting to come home to him, too.

“I froze, Eddie. I didn’t do anything.”

“You did everything you could do in the situation and you saved me, Buck. Don’t you get that? You kept me hanging on, you got me back to my son.”

He feels Buck shake his head as he starts to burrow his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He doesn’t respond, just shakes in his arms. A sob escapes Buck’s lips.

Eddie holds him tighter, using his good arm to rub his hand up and down Buck’s back in an attempt to soothe him.

“Talk to me, Buck.” He pleads. Eddie is still crying himself—hasn't been able to get himself to stop.

“There was so much—” He starts off before pushing away from Eddie’s embrace and puts a hand near his throat, rubbing at his skin as if he was scrubbing something off. “So much blood.”

Yeah, that’d be gr—

—gunfire.

Eddie shakes his head, trying to dispel the memory from the forefront of his mind.

“Yo–you–you reached for me, and I cou–couldn’t get to you. Then your eyes closed and oh my God, Eddie, there was so much blood.”

Buck is pretty much wailing at this point and he can’t help but wonder how Christopher hasn’t been woken up yet from the noise they’ve both made. He doesn’t think he can take the pain in his heart at the anguish in his best friend’s cries and he vows to himself to never cause this pain again.

He’s still rubbing at his neck, staring directly at Eddie’s shoulder and Eddie doesn’t like the way his stare starts to become distant. He reaches for Buck’s hand and lets out a sigh of relief when he lets him pull it away from his throat.

“Stay with me, Buck.”

Stay with me, Eddie!

Breathe.

“Shit—fuck—shit, I’m so sorry.” Buck chokes out and Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise—confusion, disbelief…

“You have nothing to be sorry for, man.”

“No, no, I do. I’m not the one who got shot, I shouldn’t be—I shouldn’t be struggling like this… and you got shot, you’re dealing with your own feelings about that, you shouldn’t have to listen to me.”

Eddie ducks down to try to meet Buck’s eye. “Hey, no, it’s not a competition here—who had it more traumatic—no. You were covered in my blood, you were being targeted in active shooter situation—”

“Actually, I wasn’t.” He cuts him off sharply.

“He was targeting firefighters.”

“I was in my civies. He wasn’t after me, he was targeting the 133 and you.” The guilt in his statement cuts right through Eddie’s heart.

“You’re allowed to be struggling, Buck. You’ve got every right to be and I hate that you haven’t talked to anyone about this— it’s been two months. Why?”

“Because I’m not the one who got shot and because I just freeze like I did then when it’s brought up. I couldn’t get myself to talk about it but now that I have it’s all coming out and fuck, Eds, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

“You were still involved in a completely fucked up situation and anyone who has would struggle. I get it, though. You’re the first person outside of Frank that I’ve talked to about how it’s messed me up. But shit, Buck, I know from experience how much worse I’d be if I didn’t talk about it.” He takes in a deep breath and lets out a humorless laugh. “When did we switch places here?”

He continues when Buck gives him a bewildered look.

“You have to talk your problems out to process them and I have never liked talking about my problems. When did you become the one in this relationship to hold it all in and when did I become the one that actually talked about it so I could heal from it?”

“When I almost lost you.” Buck whispers, his voice wet. “I’m proud of you, though. I’m glad you’re talking to Frank. I hope he’s helped.”

“Well you didn’t lose me. I’m right here, so talk to me. Come to me when you get like this. We went through the same hellish trauma together so I promise you I won’t get tired of you talking about your feelings from it—about anything.”

He knows that Buck feeling like a burden is part of his reluctance to talk, it always was whenever Buck came to him to talk about his struggles.

Buck sighs, tension deflating from his body little by little before he folds over and rests his forehead on Eddie’s chest. Eddie takes his hand that’s not holding Buck’s and cards it through his hair.

“Okay, fine. I’ll try, on one condition.”

“Anything.” Eddie means it.

“You come to me, too.”

“Deal.” Eddie smiles. “Maybe you can do something for me though?”

“Anything.” Buck whispers.

“The second her office opens, set up an appointment with Doctor Copeland.” Eddie almost pleads. “I’m going to book one with Frank.”

He hadn’t planned on going back to him after the sessions stopped being mandatory but this talk has made him realize a few things, and one of them was that therapy had helped. The difference between Eddie’s return from Afghanistan and the aftermath of being shot was just that—therapy.

And if it got his best friend to actually talk about it and start healing, too, that’s a positive bonus.

“Yeah, o—” A loud yawn escapes Buck that cuts him off.

Eddie yawns right after him, followed by a snort. “We should probably get some sleep.”

“I can’t—I don’t want to have another nightmare.”

Eddie moves the hand in Buck’s hair to his cheek and lightly taps him. He smiles at Buck as their eyes meet. “I’ve got an idea. C’mon, get up, follow me.”

Buck never makes a move to let go of Eddie’s hand as they walk and neither does he. He goes over to the couch and grabs Buck’s weighted blanket with his free hand and leads him to his room.

“Eddie?” Buck stops him before he can open the door.

“Stay with me tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“It would be for me, too.” Eddie squeezes his hand. “Though I should warn you—” He opens his door to reveal Christopher sound asleep in his bed. “I should have said stay with us tonight.”

“Eddie.”

“I’m absolutely positive I want you with us tonight.” He answers the unasked question on Buck’s tongue.

He lifts the blanket and gestures for Buck to get in first but Buck shakes his head. “You can go there.”

The bed stirs as he gets in.

“Dad?” Christopher mumbles sleepily. “Buck?”

“Yeah, bud, Buck’s here. He also had a bad dream, do you mind if he sleeps with us?” Eddie asks, already knowing his son’s answer would be yes.

Christopher nods with a sleepy smile.

When Buck slides in next to him, Christopher leans over and cups Buck’s face the way he had cupped his not two hours ago. “You’re gonna be okay, kid.”

Tears appear in Buck’s eyes but he gives Christopher a wet smile and nods. “Yeah. I think I will be.”

His son really was the greatest.

Buck’s insistence that Eddie got into bed before him starts to make sense after Buck starts to fall asleep. He subconsciously slots himself against Eddie’s back and pulls him closer, leaving his arm around him, resting over his heart.

He wanted to protect him. He’d wanted to protect Eddie from all of the dangers that could come through that door.

In that moment, Eddie has never felt safer.

His safe place.

#my writing #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #tw suicidal thoughts #tw mention of blood #tw blood #911 on fox #911 fox

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