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lokiprompts · 2 years

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The Shifter - Chp 7

Summary: You unintentionally shift/dream walk in your sleep. You finally realize that your time with Loki is not a dream....will you decide to stay with him?

Warnings: Angst, but otherwise tame.

Words: ~2k

Other chapters on my masterlist. Super close to 1k followers...let's do it!!!

The Stark Tower began to sway and buckle as the very foundation of the New York City block began to crack and crumble, causing the whole Avenger’s team to lurch forward and grab on to something to stay upright. With each passing moment, the two universes, theirs, and yours, began to collide on a path of self-destruction that would tear everything apart. Swirls of purple peaked out from the cracks in the sky. It would be beautiful if it didn’t mean the end of the world.

“Your Majesty, if you know of a way to stop this, I suggest we do it now.” Strange frantically spat out, gripping onto the wall as the tower continued to sway.

“As soon as your soulmate came to this universe, Loki, I had started to do research on how to keep her hear or heal her mind and I knew this was a possibility,” Frigga started, holding onto Thor’s arm to keep herself steady.

“We don’t have time for this back story! How do we stop this?” Tony yelled, grabbing onto a decanter of some dark liquid, and taking a swig.

Loki shot the Man of Iron a glare, but quickly back to his mother. His eyes were pleading for her to carry on.

“It is a complicated spell, and I will need other magic users to help me cast it.”

“Great!” Natasha groaned, gripping onto a table, “We have two others here. Let’s get this rolling before we all die.”

Strange and Loki made their way closer to Frigga who held out her hands. The palms of her hands were outstretched, facing up, and glowing a golden hue as she summoned her seidr like the skilled and wise witch she was. Loki followed suit, his palms growing green of his signature magic. Last, was Strange, who faltered for a moment, not being a seidr wielder himself, but easily mimicking the magic of the thousand-year-old magic users next to him.

“Ta tilbake det som hører til…” Frigga began to chant, “Få tilbake kjærlighet og skjebne..”

The glow of their hands began to glow brighter, gathering in the center of the small circle the three sorcerers had made. The energy between them grew and grew until it finally exploded into a giant tunnel of light that was reminiscent of the bifrost. Their hair whipped around their faces as the energy beam shot up through the roof of the Tower towards the sky, a loud humming noise now filling the room.

“Kom tilbake til oss kjære!” Frigga shouted, her voice getting lost in the loud thrumming magic.

“ÅPNE SLØRET MELLOM VERDENER!”

You were a mess. You had everything in the palm of your hands, everything was perfect and now it was all gone. What went wrong? Maybe Loki didn’t want you there like he said he did.

No. You couldn’t let yourself go down that road. Ever since you realized that the Loki of your dreams was, in fact, real and you found yourself hopelessly lost in his eyes – you knew he wanted nothing more than to be with you. To him, you were the rarest and most precious gift, a goddess of Midgard to be worshipped and treasured for all of his years.

And now he was gone forever.

You gripped your pillow tight and sobbed so hard, your lungs burned from lack of oxygen. But the jolting of your apartment building quickly took you out of your despair. An earthquake? They weren’t common in this area. Without much thinking, you dropped to the floor and covered your head as everything shook. Things fell from your shelves, but it was over as quickly as it started and thankfully, without much damage.

Then you heard the screams. You ran to your bedroom window and saw people in the street outside of their shops and homes, looking towards the sky and screaming. You looked up and saw the cracks in the sky and you gasped. It was just like from the movie, Spiderman: No Way Home. The cracks in the sky, the purple cascading through them…universes were colliding.

Without you even realizing it, fresh tears started to fall down your cheeks as the feeling of doom settled deep into your chest. In their world, the Marvel world, they had magic users like Doctor Strange to save them. But here? In your world? There were rag tag groups of superheroes coming to the rescue. It was just average, ordinary people. You all were going to die.

You fell to the floor and pulled your knees to your chest, rocking back and forth as the weight of everything imploded in your heart. Finding out Loki was real. Deciding to be with him. The spell that went horribly wrong. The apocalypse. Sobs racked your body, and you unleashed a loud wail of utter despair. How did this all go so wrong?

Another earthquake shook your building, cracking the foundation and sending you sliding down as the floor suddenly became a demented slide. You didn’t even catch your bearings when a beam of light crashed through your bedroom ceiling and enveloped you. You covered your eyes to protect yourself from the brightness. Then, abruptly, you felt yourself floating. Even with your eyes screwed shut, you felt your limbs grow light and weightless. You wrapped your arms around yourself, tucking your legs close to your body to try and protect yourself. And just like the earthquake, as quickly as it started, it ended.

The first thing you felt was the cold floor underneath you. Still, you had your limbs tucked in against your body and you couldn’t stop shivering. Everything was so cold. So, so, cold. You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but jerk at their touch. Their touch was cold too, but still a welcome warmth to the freezing sensation that went down to your very bones.

“Dove…ar-are you alright?” The deep, velvety voice felt like a balm to your anxious heart. You dared to peek your head up from your arms and you were met with wide, crystal blue eyes. The first thing you noticed was how worried he looked.

“Where am I?” You whispered; your voice as timid as you looked.

“We are in the Stark Tower. You’re safe now. Are you okay?” You noticed that the man was now kneeling on the floor next to you. His body was close to yours and his scent wafted into your nose. It was intoxicating and terrifying, all at the same time.

“Where is that? How did I get here? Who are you?” With each question, your anxiety rose. At first, you were once shivering from the cold, but now you were trembling with fear.

“It’s me, Loki…” He let out a long breath, seemingly trying to keep his own emotions in check, “From the movies.”

Still, a look of confusion was stuck on your face. There wasn’t any recognition or familiarity. Even during times when you didn’t remember him initially, Loki could see the wheels turning in that beautiful mind of yours.

“Is this normal?” A redheaded woman spoke up. It was then that you realized that you were surrounded by several people. All dressed in metal armor, battle gear, and strapped with weapons. There was a large, bulky man who kept smiling down at you while holding a giant hammer. It was very unsettling, and you found yourself curling further into your body.

“She has forgotten us…and well, me, before and it always comes back. It just takes time.” Loki reached forward to brush some hair out of your face, but you immediately flinched at the contact. He withdrew his hand and gave you a tight-lipped smile.

“Unfortunately, that is unlikely…”

An older woman’s sweet voice spoke out from the silence. She was dressed regally, in draped clothing and armor that reminded you of the Romans. She looked like a queen and from conversation, you learned her name to be Frigga.

“What do you mean?” Loki asked, still kneeling by your side.

“I…didn’t have much time to explain,” She started, the pain in her voice and her eyes evident as she looked at the man next to you. It hurt her to say this, you could see it.

“This spell, while bringing her back, comes with consequences.”

Loki gritted his teeth, “What kind of consequences.”

Frigga sighed, “She is like a blank slate. There are no memories of the universe she was from and none of her time here. She just….is.”

A sob caught in your throat as you tried to process everything this person was saying, yet you couldn’t. It was all a jumbled mess, and you were just getting more and more confused and frightened.

“What is going on? I don’t understand. I – I,” you stammered as you continued to cry, “I just want to go home.”

The man next to you, that you now know as Loki, tried to console you. His large hand started to pet your hair, but just like before you flinched and he withdrew, “Shh, shhh, it’s alright.” He cooed.

“Where is home?” Asked the redheaded woman who was now also by your side. Her face was soft, but her eyes were searching, calculating.

“I…I don’t know.”

“What is your name?”

You searched the farthest corners of your mind. It was like a wall was put up and all your answers was just on the other side of it. But you were too small, too weak to even think about climbing it. All you found was…nothingness.

The realization that you didn’t even know your own name made you cry harder, “I don’t know.” You choked out in between sobs.

“It’s Y/N”. Loki said, his own eyes glassy and filled with emotion. Why was he sad? But you flashed him a small, grateful smile to him. You weren’t sure if what he said was true or not, but looking in his eyes you just had the feeling that you could trust him.

“We should examine her. Make sure she is otherwise healthy….now that the universe isn’t cracking at the seams.” A man in blue and red robes spoke now and you twisted your body to see him behind you. He stepped into your line of vision, his hand on his chest as he greeted you.

“I am Doctor Stephen Strange. I recommend having some tests done to make sure you are okay.”

“You don’t look like a doctor,” You quipped, and Loki chuckled a bit. It lightened the anxiety in your chest a bit and you were thankful.

“Well, I am. Will you come with me?” You looked to Loki, looking for answers and he nodded. He stood up and you realized how tall he was. He offered you his hand and you hesitated for just a moment, before placing your hand in his. You stood up with his help and let go of his hand as soon as you got on your feet. There was a flash of a frown on his face before it was taken over by another tight-lipped smile. It looked like he was trying to hide his sadness from you, but you saw it.

He walked with you along with this doctor to an exam room. Loki stayed by your side the whole time as they ran tests on you, drew your blood, and ran scans on the state of your brain. The whole thing was confusing, but mostly terrifying. Your mind held no memories, no matter how far you reached and now you were in this place that you didn’t recognize, with people you didn’t know, and being tested like some lab rat. But all you could do is sit and go through the motions. Without your memory, you were forced to trust these people.

“It looks like you have a clean bill of health. Outside of your memory, there isn’t anything wrong with you.” Strange said, flipping through your blood results on a chart.

“What about her memories? Is there a chance she will get them back?” Loki asked the question you were too scared to ask, and you were thankful.

“I…I don’t know. That may be more of a magic issue, and I am not sure how that has affected her mind. Unfortunately, only time will tell.”

Loki then walked you to a room that he said was yours. None of it felt familiar. The foreign feeling of everything made you sick. You opened the door and walked in, looking around and hoping for any sort of clue about who you are. There was nothing,

“This is your room.” Loki said, trying to fill the silence.

“So, you’ve said.” You quietly responded as you still looked around.

“I am just down the hall. If you need anything…I am here.” He smiled at you, and it wasn’t the tight lipped, strained smile you have been seeing since you got here. It was soft and tender. He looked at you like he cared for you.

“Do we know each other? Are we friends?”

The smile faltered a bit at your question and new look of sadness shone in his eyes, “Yes, we are.” And with that, he turned and left the room. You were alone, in this small empty apartment.

And you found yourself missing the man you just met.

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helicrazy · 1 year

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Gimme, gimme, gimme some time to think I'm in the bathroom, looking at me Face in the mirror is all I need (ooh) Wait until the reaper takes my life Never gonna get me out alive I will live a thousand million lives (ooh)

In a flash, the copter feels energon splatter onto his face and the pede is removed from his gut wound as the mech above is violently blasted off him. Keeping his vision on the savior in the distance, his fuzzy optics may not be able to piece together who they are but his bond does, and it pulses toward them. Both pleased and grateful for the save, even if he was seconds away from turning into a helm-less corpse. He watches his comrade drive closer, feeling the vibration of the tank treads and nothing but green taking up his vision. His right servo is reached out but drops it when once again passing out.

---

Playing with a stick of dynamite There was never gray in black and white There was never wrong 'til there was right (ooh, oh) Feeling like a boulder hurtling Seeing all the vultures circling Burning in the flames I'm working in Turning in a bed that's darkening

Vortex comes to the sight of Brawl hovering over and lifting him off the ground, questioning him and pinging a burst of concern and relief through the bond. The teal mech speaks to him with it, telling him that his vocal box is wrecked and queries whether the mech he shot is still moving or not, but he gets his answer when turning his helm to see for himself. The target is in fact alive, attempting to crawl away with a huge whole right through the area been the abdomen and groin area. Leaving his legs hanging on by mere threads.

Making Vortex praise his teammate for the shot over the bond while he squirms away from him after noticing that his endoskeleton in his waist is not as damaged as he thought.

He’s not leaving this unfinished. He just can’t after everything he went through.

Except he only manages a couple of feet before collapsing to his knees. Fading out and missing his favorite chorus part again.

---

【Shutdown Commencing In 1 Minute 10 Seconds】

Ah. This is why he keeps blacking out.

The teal copter attempts to get himself back onto his pedes, however struggles until the green tank comes over to help him up.

“We have to go Vortex.”

Look in the mirror of my mind Turning the pages of my life Walking the path so many paced a million times

A fierce no is given when attempting to shove the brute away but has no success. The tank sighs, feeling that desperation for revenge over the bond knowing that Vortex won’t stop until the job is done and will never hear the end of it if he pulls him away now, so he brings him over to the mech dragging himself down the empty street.

Drown out the voices in the air Leaving the ones that never cared Picking the pieces up and building to the sky

Vortex reaches back with his good arm to grab a rotor, whichever one can be removed from its slot while urging Brawl to release him. Then forces himself to walk a couple of steps, stumbling while doing as the target rolls to his back and holds a servo out that makes the copter pause. Watching their mouth move but not paying attention to what’s being said. Instead, he steps over and sits, almost falling, on top of them while mouthing the next couple of lines to himself and raising the rotor with his right arm.

My patience is waning Is this entertaining? My patience is waning

Is this entertaining?

The rotor is brought down hitting the right side of the mech’s helm. He doesn’t have the strength to really get the blade deep, only managing a couple of inches into the plating, but he just pulls it out and slams it back down again and again and again with all the energy he has left in his system. Splitting the helm open left, right, and center. Not caring that he’s losing energy with each hit and the warning taking over his vision.

I-I-I got this feeling, yeah, you know Where I'm losing all control 'Cause there's magic in my bones (magic in my bones) I-I-I got this feeling in my soul (soul) Go ahead and throw your stones 'Cause there's magic in

【Shutdown Commencing In 35 Seconds】

He finally stops, only because he’s depleted nearly everything he has, and falls off the mech. Crashing onto the ground beside them and getting a beautiful view of the top of their helm chopped up with a puddle of energon forming around it. Vortex just smiles, even if the bond is filled with panic and worries from Brawl as he steps over to scoop him off the ground.

"I got ya Tex, don’t worry. I’ll take you to the medic center.”

There goes my mind (I-I-I) Don't mind There goes my mind (there it goes, there it goes) There goes my mind (I-I-I) Don't mind (there it goes) There goes my mind 'Cause there's magic in my bones

【Shutdown Commencing In 10 Seconds】

Private. Vortex replies over the bond, and when Brawl asks why he drains out the last couple of words before his optics shut down and slumps into the tank’s arms.

Public... Too noisy.

#ic status #Plot: Another Way Out #Annnnd we done #tw: gore

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avversiera-writes · 3 years

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touch your heart [senju tobirama/you] - chapter 4

Summary: Hashirama might go down as the worst matchmaker in history, but he thinks he might be on to something. Tobirama sees through his brother's schemes and is determined not to fall for it. Or fall for you.

Word Count: about 3k

AO3 LINK TO TOUCH YOUR HEART

AOR SERIES LINK TO ‘TIL DEATH DO US PART

[<<<CHAPTER ONE] [CHAPTER TWO] [CHAPTER THREE]

You are not sure what to make of it, but you feel like the awkward atmosphere between you and Tobirama seems to have multiplied by the tens. You did not feel like this around him before, but now, every time he addresses you, it makes your insides twist and you just want to avoid him as much as possible.

At the same time, Tobirama’s words seem more curt and he often repeats the same sentences like “ridiculous” and “get to work” as if those are the only words he can say.

A part of you wants to make fun of him for sounding constipated around you, but you don’t think that the two of you have established a rapport that allows you to do so. You know you have been teasing him nonstop ever since you started working together, but now that he mistook your interaction with his brother as flirting, every time you open your mouth to say something to him, your throat decides to croak and you end up staring at him with your mouth hanging open.

You cannot stand it.

You sigh and decide to stretch your hands up, garnering a glance from Tobirama.

You swear if he utters “work” one more time, you are going to drag him outside to breathe in some fresh air. Maybe the nice change of scenery will make his mind restart so that he can say other words for once.

“I’m curious,” Tobirama starts.

You stare at him, not believing what you are hearing from him. Finally, something else he can say to you.

“What is your relationship with Uchiha Madara?”

Maybe he should go back to grunting out one word sentences to you.

You narrow his eyes at him. He keeps asking unwarranted questions.

You press your lips together, thinking about how you want to reply to him. “Well,” you start. “He’s someone I’m very grateful to.”

Tobirama frowns. “Why?”

“Excuse me? Have you never had someone be grateful to you?”

Tobirama suddenly looks pissed, but he quickly fixes his expression.

You let out a burst of laughter. “Don’t tell me you think I’m also flirting with him,” you grin playfully to hide the ire behind your tone.

Tobirama looks away.

“Relax, he’s a friend and kind of a mentor to me,” you tell Tobirama. “Nothing more. He helped me get accustomed to Konoha. I think he just felt sorry for me, but thanks to him, I’ve had a good start here.”

Tobirama glances at you, his expression unchanging but for once he is not looking at you as if you committed a crime.

Well, this is probably the first true thing you have said to him. Your heart ponders at this, but you decide that it should be okay. It’s not entirely specific, but it’s not trivial either. You wonder if you should elaborate more.

“So, there’s no grand plan of me wooing the founding fathers of Konoha,” you joke and Tobirama rolls his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I am not interested,” Tobirama huffs and he straightens even more on his seat.

You smile at this, and you go back to your work. “Alright. Are we good, then?”

Tobirama turns his head to you, and you meet his eyes.

“Fine,” Tobirama reverts back to his automated one word responses.

You nod, and you detect that the air between you has somewhat cleared.

At the end of the day, as you bid your goodbye to Tobirama, you slip him a piece of paper with some doodles of ninja fighting and a note saying ‘have a good day’ on it in your attempted fancy writing.

“Really?” Tobirama deadpans.

“For our budding friendship,” you joke.

Tobirama’s eyes narrow at you. “We are only working together, we’re not here to make friends.”

You roll your eyes and slip the paper further into his sights. “Co-workers?” You suggest.

“Not even close.”

“Oh, come on!”

Tobirama rubs his forehead. “Fine.” He grits out. “Co-workers.”

“And then future friends,” you include playfully.

Tobirama scowls. “Go home.”

“That’s not a no!” You wag a finger to him. “So it’s up in the air, yes?”

“No,” Tobirama says, his fingers twitching–probably itching to crumple the paper in front of him. “And don’t do this again, this is a waste of paper.”

You sigh. “Okay, okay, fine. Have a good night.”

Tobirama says nothing as you exit the room, and you let out a deep breath you have been holding. At least, he’s talking to you normally now.

You chuckle to yourself.

Tobirama is so weird, you think.

The thought brings a small smile on your lips.

Tobirama stares at the doodle in front of him, his focus beyond repair for the meantime. He assumes the long-haired man in the picture is his brother, with a blob of red as his armor, and the one next to his brother is him, with a hair so huge and spiky that it looks like lightning has struck from the sky and connected with his head.

Tobirama stares at it, unsure of what to make of it. Why are you always making fun of him?

He sighs, and he looks to the window, where the sky has changed to a swathe of pink and purple, indicating that the sun has set and the night will soon take over. His eyes go to the table and he notices engravings on the table itself on your side of the table, and he sighs, trying to fight away the signs of a headache. Though for a moment, to his chagrin, he found it a little funny. He did say save some paper.

Tobirama thinks about what you had told him about Madara, and he ruminates on this. Why would Madara take you in, help you get settled and feel sorry for you? How did you even get here, and why did you choose Konoha, of all places?

Tobirama rubs his forehead, his thoughts circling in on you. It’s not common that he’s not able to figure out someone in a few seconds. He prides himself on feeling out people, whether it be their chakra, their personality or their thoughts, but the only thing he has learned about you is that you are loud .

He can’t even figure where you are from or which family you came from based on your chakra signature, which is not all that impressive. Compared to your presence, it is almost silent. It is there, but they are like waves in a low-tide, unable to do any harm. They ebb at some places, like something is disrupting its flow, and at times it feels almost nonexistent. You do not have any affinity for the elements either, and even with taijutsu, there should be a flare of chakra in you, but there is nothing.

He knows that you are skilled with blades because the way you hold and carry it indicates that you have drawn it a thousand times. He knows that you have fought before because you are able to surprise him in a match.

He can keep guessing who you are, but you somehow prove him wrong and it bothers him.

He attempts to get back to work, but his stomach grumbles in complaint, which means that he really cannot focus anymore. Deciding to indulge his uncooperative stomach, he exits the Hokage mansion and trails towards the more active part of the village, where various restaurants are starting to pop up.

People recognize him as he walks and they offer polite and formal greetings towards him. He greets back, but he does not stop for shirt conversations. Those exhaust him.

Ahead, lamps are strung by posts to light the street. The street grows in volume as more and more people flood in, coming and going. Someone shouts nearby, and laughter springs everywhere. Splashes of red and gold appear in his peripheral vision, and the smell of fried food wafts in the air.

Tobirama takes a deep breath, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

Suddenly, his eye catches you, running towards him with a carefully wrapped package in your hands. He notices you holding it securely, and as you get closer, he notices that they are packed food. You pass by him, and Tobirama turns to see where you are heading.

It is not far, as he can see you stop by an alleyway and walk in.

Tobirama pauses at this, and against his better judgement, he decides to follow you and see what you are up to.

He hears your voice first, and when he sees you, he feels unprepared to react at the sight of you handing the freshly cooked food to two children squatting by the trash.

"Be careful," you tell them, your voice laced with worry.

"Thank you so much, nee-chan!" The boy cries out.

"Can I ask where your parents are?" You inquire.

"Uhm...well," the boy starts hesitantly, his eyes swimming with fear. "We...don't have parents anymore."

The boy looks down. "We came here to find safety."

Tobirama notes the change on your face. You look sad, and Tobirama wonders what is causing it.

"Well, can you tell me your names?" You address both children with a gentleness Tobirama has never heard before.

Maybe that is how you talk to others that are not him.

"I'm Kaito," the boy says. "My sister doesn't talk much, but her name is Yuna."

You offer them a kind smile. "Well...enjoy your food, okay? If you ever need help, come find me. I live near the forest in the new building recently built there. I'll bring you guys some blankets if you stay here."

Kaito stares at you, his eyes swimming. "Thank you very much, nee-chan."

You sigh, and you reach over and pat his head. Tobirama backs away from sight to hide himself.

You run past him, and Tobirama elects to stand where he is so that he can watch the kids while you get them their blankets.

Tobirama suddenly frowns as a thought comes to mind. There is a newly built orphanage in the village now.

"Tobirama?" You cut him off his thoughts and Tobirama snaps to your attention and it occurs to him that this is probably the first time you called his name without insulting him in some way.

Tobirama had not noticed your arrival. He must have been standing here for a while.

He should have moved and went on with his life.

"We should take them to the orphanage." He looks down at your arms where you are carrying a blanket, a change of clothes and a knife.

Tobirama grows uneasy as you stare at him, even though the surroundings are almost dim.

"Okay," you finally said and you called the kids out.

Tobirama glances at the two tiny children, suddenly noticing how thin and grimy they are.

"This is Senju Tobirama," you introduce him. "He can help us find a place to stay warm, okay? He's a good person." You reassure them.

Tobirama attempts at a small smile, but he feels your eyes on him and he ends up grimacing. He also zeroes in on the fact that you called him a good person in front of these kids. He doubted that you even thought of him that way, but hearing it from you is a little refreshing.

"Follow me," Tobirama walks ahead, unable to stand still under your gaze.

You are looking at him strangely and Tobirama is not sure what to make of it.

Thankfully the walk is not too long, but it means that Tobirama has to spend the rest of the time walking with you in this awkward silence that seems to pervade whenever the two of you are near each other. It is now completely dark, save for the occasional lanterns guiding the way, but it does nothing to alleviate the tension. Instead, he turns to himself inwardly and makes a mental note on formalizing how to accept refugees in the future so that random people that have the potential to be a threat cannot enter the village easily. It is still so young and he is not sure how it will hold when there is some disorder.

After dropping the kids off in the orphanage and signing some documents and talking with the ward there, the two of you head back to the center of the village, where the night scene comes alive. He is tempted to say something to fill the air, but he is also waiting for you to say something because he assumes that you would normally talk when there is nothing to talk about.

Alas, he is wrong again.

He never thought that he would be the first one to say a word.

“You look chirper,” he comments. He glances at your face, noting how relaxed it is compared to earlier. You also do not look as glum.

“Yeah, well,” you start, scratching your cheek lightly. “It’s all I wanted to do is–you know, make a difference and all that shi-stuff.”

Tobirama hums, amused at your slip of a curse word. He senses the truth in your words and for once, he finds himself relaxing around you.

“I know you probably think that I don’t mean that since I tend to joke around, but trust me when I say that I see a lot of good things happening here. Children outside of Konoha are not so lucky,” you say.

“Yeah,” Tobirama agrees.

Tobirama feels your eyes on the side of his face and he swallows.

" I was not so lucky," your words falter as you begin them, but Tobirama sees the determined look on your face and it surprises him even more. "But I am now in a place where I can help people out."

Tobirama glances at you again, surprised at your sudden confession to him.

"Ah well, I talked too much, you might start to think I’m nice," you joke.

"I do not find anything wrong with that," Tobirama replies, and for a moment the two of you locked eyes.

Tobirama hears your stomach grumbles and you let out a shy laugh.

"Whoops," you announce, chuckling.

Tobirama sighs, but he is not exasperated. "Let’s go."

"Where? Back to work? Don't tell me I missed some pages to work on because I was very thorough today."

Tobirama raises an eyebrow. "Only today?"

You smirk and Tobirama looks ahead of him, unable to stare at you straight on.

"My brother and I weren't so lucky either," Tobirama begins, feeling that it's only right that he says something back that is equivalent to your confession. "All we knew was war when we were children. So many people we cared about died, but despite all that, elder brother was very ahead of his time. He's the one who dreamed of building this village."

You smile softly at him. "Well, look at it now. It's something."

"More than something," Tobirama insists. "It’s a new world."

"Tell me something, Senju Tobirama. Is this how you saw the world too?"

Tobirama stares straight ahead. For a moment, he considers not answering, but his mind gets the best of him. "No," he admits. "The world is always in peril."

"Then why partake in such an ambitious dream?"

Tobirama tenses up. He gives you an inch, and you are backing him up a mile without his control. Your question is too close in a way that it shows his deep devotion to his family and this village.

You did not even have to try.

"You wanted to make his dreams come true, right?" You prod on.

Tobirama's fingers twitch, desperate to hold something. You are right and it almost pisses him off.

"It’s his dream," Tobirama answers curtly. "But he dreams too much. He did not think of what the cost could be and the work that comes with it."

"And you covered that part," you state.

"Right," Tobirama murmurs thoughtfully.

"I can respect that." You smile at him, and you bump your shoulder against his arm.

Tobirama finds that he did not mind, but he is still a little annoyed that you of all people have seen through him.

However, he also realizes that the awkward atmosphere between the two of you has dissipated.

It's a curious thing.

He sees you walking ahead, and before he knows it, he is reaching out to grab your arm. He is able to stop himself, but his fingers brush against the back of your arm. His hand forms a fist as a form of restraint.

You turn to him with a questioning look.

"Dinner," he almost stammers, but his voice is even. "It’s this way. My treat."

Your face lights up, but you cringe as your stomach announces once again that it needs food.

"Sounds great to me," you smile at him again, and Tobirama finds himself hurrying his steps ahead of you.

He thinks about the project and how it is almost finished. Just two more months of this, and he can be done and you can get out of his hair.

That was the agreement, after all.

He hears your footsteps catch up to him, and now, he finds you walking by his side.

If Tobirama thought that you were a con-man before, then he will probably think that you are now.

Today, he has students doing some chakra training by walking on water, and you have opted to watch and listen to Tobirama’s elaborate instructions instead of joining them and demonstrating how to do it along with Tobirama.

The truth is, you have no idea how to do that. You never learned how to because you had no formal shinobi training. All you know how to do is fight for your life, very desperately at that.

You watch the kids, and you cannot help feel the bitterness that you have tried so hard to let go. You did not have this when you were younger. All you knew were sickness after sickness, vials of poisons and medicine, and a hazy mind and a weak body.

Years of your life were lost to parents who failed to protect you because of their twisted beliefs and their inability to stand their ground.

You were lost and without a guide.

You consider sneaking away, but you feel like you and Tobirama are finally on the same page and doing that might not help your case with him.

You are aware of his piercing gaze being directed towards you, but he doesn't call you out for not participating or push you to do the exercise with the kids.

You stand to the side uselessly, using your foot to draw random circles on the ground, until the kids are dismissed and Tobirama is walking up to you with a strict expression. He looks like he might yell at you or scold you, but surprisingly, he does none of that.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Tobirama comments tersely.

You look up to meet his hard eyes and you shrug. “I did not think that you’d notice.”

Tobirama gives you a very hard and long look, and it burns through you.

“What?” You snap, your facade long gone.

You see Tobirama’s eyes widen slightly, but they are back to his usual scrutinizing gaze.

“If you have a problem, it’s best that you communicate it with me. We are working together professionally.” Tobirama does not back down. “We are both adults.”

You press your lips into a thin line, and you look towards the flowing river, where the kids tried their luck to walk across it.

Tobirama turns to walk away, and you grip the hilt of your sword in instinct.

It is now or never.

“I don’t know, okay?” You suddenly blurt out. “I did not have any of this when I was a kid.”

Tobirama stops and he turns to you questioningly. You observe from his demeanor that he is not particularly judgemental towards you at the moment. He looks at you with an understanding he extends to his students.

You turn towards the river again. “I…”

Tobirama waits, neither impatient nor placating. He does not even look like he’s in a hurry.

You grit your teeth, and then slowly let out a deep breath through your mouth. You glare at Tobirama.

“Do not ever speak of this to anyone,” you warn him. “This is between you and me.”

“I promise,” Tobirama says, his tone serious.

You look at his face, your eyes tracing his set jaw and the three perfect markings that are tattooed on his cheeks and his chin.

“I did not have this when I was young,” you tell him vaguely, but you realize that you will get nowhere if you keep evading the subject. “I don’t know, maybe you can help me, but maybe it’s too late…”

“You should get to the point,” Tobirama finally says and he folds his arms. “And if it’s help you need, you only need to ask.”

You stare at the ground uneasily as you feel your face heat up.

“I need your help because when I was young, I did not learn how to be a proper shinobi,” you say in a rush. “That walking on water lesson? I never had that. I don't know how to do that.”

You look at him helplessly and watch Tobirama’s neutral expression, seeing the gears turning in his mind.

“I had to figure out everything myself,” you say in a low, dark tone.

Tobirama nods, but then for the first time, he smirks at you. “That’s not a lot for me to go by, but it’s a nice change to see you not put up a farce for once.”

You glare at him. “Yeah, well, beggars can't be choosers.” You fold your arms as well. “And you’ve noticed it, haven’t you? That I do not have a good, consistent chakra flowing in me.”

Tobirama pauses, and his eyes glow for a moment.

“Shouldn't your closest friend know this?” Tobirama inquires sarcastically.

“He doesn’t,” you roll your eyes. “Or maybe he does, but he chooses not to bring it up.”

“Why did you bring it up?”

“Because I’m not stupid and I refuse to let my shortcomings get the best of me,” you snap.

Tobirama raises an eyebrow.

You meet his eyes, throwing your pride away and mustering all the determination you can find in yourself. “And I want to learn. So teach me. Help me. We only have two months and I know the timing couldn’t be better, but that’s all the time I need.”

Tobirama turns to the river, and a breeze brushes by, sweeping the grass, flattening it, and carrying dry leaves and scattering them about. It picks up strands of your hair, and it moves the hems of your clothes, and when the breeze has passed, Tobirama has his reply ready.

“Very well,” Tobirama folds his hands behind his back and turns to you. “I’ll do it and keep your secret.”

Your eyes widen, and you feel elated. “That was unexpected.”

Tobirama narrows his eyes.

“But...thank you. That means a lot to me.”

You can't help but give him a shy smile, and Tobirama glances at you from the sides of his eyes, his ears and neck turning pink.

"Well, when do we begin?"

Tobirama lets out a sigh through his nose and gives you a funny look. "Now. Get running."

"What?" You stare at him with disbelief. "Now? It's almost lunch."

"Yes, now." Tobirama's face goes back to its hard and strict expression, his eyebrows almost furrowing and his lips and jaw set.

You take a deep breath, and you break into a run and Tobirama jogs lightly after you. You try to get ahead of him, but Tobirama keeps up just as easily, his long legs pumping to match yours. The two of you run towards the forest, jumping over decaying logs and rocks. You hear Tobirama's rush of breath near you, the snap of sticks underneath his feet, and the ruffle of his clothes as his body moves. You focus ahead, and you see a wall of rock blocking the edge of this forest. Tobirama keeps going and you follow him, but you speed past him so that you can get to the rock first.

However, Tobirama does not stop there.

"What are you doing?" Tobirama barks. "We're going back."

You catch your breath and you watch him go ahead of you. Of course, you expected nothing less from the Senju Tobirama. You smirk to yourself, and you run to his direction, determined to get there first as well.

A burst of laugh escapes your lips as you pass him by, and you jump over a small path. You turn towards him, completely exhilarated and Tobirama stutters in his steps.

"Not bad," Tobirama comments coolly as he gets closer to you.

You pout playfully. "I was here first."

"That was not a race," Tobirama says. "And if it was, you'd lose."

"Wow." You roll your eyes, but there is no malice between the two of you. This is the first time the atmosphere between the two of you had eased enough for the two of you to joke around with each other willingly. "Such hubris, my lord."

Tobirama's eyes narrow. "I think you should just stop calling me with a title. You give it no purpose anymore."

"Are you hurt?" You say mockingly.

Tobirama sighs and he pinches the bridge of your nose.

You chuckle easily. "Alright, Tobirama."

Tobirama glances at you, a slight frown etched to his face but he does not look displeased. He nods and you shrug, and you find that spending time with Tobirama like this is not so bad. You are not sure about tomorrow since your interactions with him are like going through hills and valleys, but at least, it does not feel like you are Tobirama's mortal enemy anymore.

[CHAPTER FIVE >>>]

#avversiera writes #angelica writes #'til death do us part #Senju Tobirama #Tobirama Senju #tobirama x reader #senju tobirama x reader #tobirama x you #senju tobirama x you #tobirama x y/n #naruto fanfiction

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veliseraptor · 4 years

Text

Down in the Yi City Pit: A Recs Post

So as anyone following me may have noticed, I’ve been spiraling ever deeper into a pit called Yi City Feelings. I’m down at the bottom and I’m still digging. This also means I’ve been doing a lot of fic reading, and I figure it’s about time that I wrote a recs list, since I said I’d do it and some people expressed interest.

Heads up that I am a dirty Xue Yang stan first and foremost, so this list is going to skew in, uh, that direction. Just so we’re all aware.

Divided these into canonverse recs and modern au recs, since apparently this is the only thing I’ll read modern aus for! It’s a brave new world out here.

Also like. blanket warnings across the board here for The Inherent Dubiousness of Xue Yang/Xiao Xingchen as a Pairing, Generally. I’ll offer more specific/major ones as they’re relevant/I remember, but please check the tags/authors notes as well.

CANONVERSE

lover to your nightmare by Zaatar (@ameliarating) . Xue Yang uses Xiao Xingchen getting sick as an opportunity to fuck around a little. Second person POV sickfic, except XueXiao flavored sickfic which means it’s messy and full of good things like “delirium” and “people taking advantage of other peoples’ confusion and disorientation to mess with them psychologically.” This fic also does the thing I love really well where Xue Yang’s internal monologue/self-justification is full of indications that he’s having Feelings that he neither recognizes nor acknowledges. Crunchy, delicious.

Samsara / 輪迴 by ForgivenMemes. Upsetting fic full of every content warning ever alert! (Off the top of my head: violence, rape, suicide, self-harm.) I keep going back to this fic and rereading it because it hurts so bad and I love it, because it hurts in the best worst self-sabotage recapitulating-mistakes-over-and-over way. Like, I am a sucker for a time loop fic always, and usually I read them as a route to fixing things - but honestly I’ve always loved the part of time loop fics that’s “everything getting worse first.” And this is a whole fic of “everything getting worse.” Aka, the one where Xue Yang has thousands of chances to get it right, but there’s no getting it right.

compromise by Sectionladvivi. Xiao Xingchen convinces Song Lan and Xue Yang to kiss. (aka, obviously Yi City AU where Song Lan gets folded into things, Xiao Xingchen still doesn’t know about Xue Yang being Xue Yang, and an uneasy detente where the two of them don’t touch each other gets interrupted by Xiao Xingchen Wanting Things, which is, of course, a priority always).

til dawn by Sectionladvivi. Xue Yang takes care of Xiao Xingchen’s body after his death, and mind the tags. This is that perfect Yi City level of “horrifying and also very sad, I feel bad for my boy but also he is sort of defiling a corpse (though it is just kissing).” This might not sound like a recommendation but it is absolutely a recommendation.

Our Antebellum Innocence by spockandawe (@spockandawe). First time XueXiao. Xue Yang lays the groundwork for his first time with Xiao Xingchen with meticulous care. This author always delivers, both in terms of excellent porn and in terms of characterization, and this is no exception.

life’s illusions I recall by Sour_Idealist (@souridealist). The basics of this fic is just “outdoor sex at a river” and it is delicious for that, but what I love about it in particular is this author’s Xue Yang voice. It’s always good (they are the genius behind the incredible Jiang Yanli/Xue Yang fic - no, really), and this is a fic I come back to a lot for that reason. I also love the tag “two characters experiencing two very different fics” which feels like a very apt description for the XueXiao dynamic, generally speaking.

Selenographia by lightningwaltz. A lovely, short-ish fic about the Yi City years. I don’t feel like I have a good description for this one - it’s just one of those beautiful character/moment portrait pieces, very well done.

Stories from A Lonely City by blackwatervial. A series of snapshots/vignettes from the three years in Yi City. Sweetness, bittersweetness, and of course, ultimately, a sad end. This was one of the first Yi City fics I read.

yi city depression hours by glueskin (series). Just. You know. Some feelings. There’s two fics in this one, both short character study type fics making me feel feelings.

a bird caught in this winter blizzard by cherriru. I do love a good grief/mourning fic, especially featuring someone realizing slowly the sheer miserable depths of their fuck-up. Aka, Xue Yang after Xiao Xingchen’s death. It’s just sad.

all I ever knew of love by Sour_Idealist (@souridealist). See what I said above about the Xue Yang voice and this author; this one also featuring blistering hot porn (first time), a little light praise kink, and huddling for warmth as an excuse for sex. It’s a perfect blend of filth and tenderness and I love it.

revelations wallet wood burn art by Sectionladvivi. This one describes itself in the summary as “grim pwp” and yeah, that fits (and also! is such a XueXiao vibe, whoop whoop); it’s based off the simple premise of ‘Xue Yang tells Xiao Xingchen who he is, in the middle of sex.’ Honestly, one of my favorite things about this fic is the ending, which is horrifying in the best possible way.

Your Heart Inside My Hands by williamshooketh (@ectoplasm-james). This fic is fabulously made for me in the specific subgenre of “Xue Yang thinks he knows what he is getting into when having sex with Xiao Xingchen and, it turns out, does not.” This one featuring some of my favorite things including praise kink and Xue Yang getting extremely fucked up by someone being very nice to him.

Sleep Until the Sun Goes Down by spockandawe (@spockandawe). Love me some Xiao Xingchen seducing Xue Yang with candy. First time fic, second person POV, absolutely delightful.

pass the time by short_tandem_repeats (@yiling). A-Qing and Xue Yang bonding hours. I am actually such a sucker for their weird relationship (I don’t poke at it enough in my own stuff, should work on that) and the way they recognize each other in ways that Xiao Xingchen doesn’t, and also a-Qing having to reckon with the ways in which she’s more like Xue Yang than like Xiao Xingchen. Just a very good fic with a delightful a-Qing.

Three Springs by Verbana. Just a really excellent Xiao Xingchen POV of the three years in Yi City and a developing relationship between Xiao Xingchen and Xue Yang. Beautifully written, a lovely escalation, and I’m absolutely delighted by the gentle loneliness of the Xiao Xingchen POV here.

Red Azalea by CeNedraRiva (@cenedrariva) (WIP). A longfic in progress following the continuing adventures of the Yi City Crew after Xiao Xingchen survives his suicide attempt and Xue Yang reconsiders some life choices. Recently got tag-updated to SongXueXiao which has me absolutely thrilled. Updates every Wednesday.

ephemeral by im_krying (WIP). Xue Yang, traveling around wearing Xiao Xingchen’s face, decides it is time to go looking for the last remaining part of Xiao Xingchen that he doesn’t already possess. That is to say, the eyes in Song Lan’s head. I’m really curious where this is going - it smells up my alley at this point though it’s been a bit since the last update.

Heaven Has a Road But No One Walks It by Silvestris (@silvysartfulness) (WIP). Things I love: beating on Xue Yang, SongXueXiao, terrible road trips, fix-its where there’s a lot of suffering involved. Things this fic has: all of the above. I’m in love.

MODERN AU

(There are other recs to this one but for various reasons (pwp reasons) triggered my self-consciousness slightly too much to put on this post. Go check my bookmarks, you’ll find stuff there.

Most of these are PWP to greater or lesser extents (Rewritten and Misalignment are, I’d say, the exceptions); all very hot and fantastically written.)

circling like vultures by brawlite (@brawlite) (series). Truly quality porn, featuring mostly Xue Yang/Song Lan both pining for Xiao Xingchen, which is a thing that it turns out I really like. The sex is rough and mean and I’m really into it. (Okay, mostly the sex in the first one is mean, the second one is actually XueYao, and the third one is actually verging on nice. Wow! Growth. Anyway, it’s all very good and very My Scene.

Rewritten by incendir (series). This series is like. Everything I want from a modern AU and that was true even before the most recent fic gifted me a beat up Xue Yang suffering, so you know. I don’t have a good summary for this series other than that it’s basically a married Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen adopting Xue Yang as a third partner and it’s just. So well done, such good writing, such good characterization, I would read 20,000 more words of this and probably still be hungry.

catalyst by Ajaxthegreat. If there is a porny fic I’ve reread more than this one, I’m not sure what it would be. I’ve reread this one a lot. It’s very good. It’s very hot. I’m trying not to be self-conscious. SongXueXiao first time rough sex and boy is it tasty.

biting the bullet by Sectionladvivi. Xiao Xingchen doesn’t want to have to choose between his two boyfriends and so he doesn’t. Sectionladvivi in general writes some very sexy modern au PWP (including a few different Xue Yang/Lan Wangji fics which...didn’t see that one coming! But it works when they do it), so general rec for author but this one (as, you know, SongXueXiao porn), is one of my favorites, probably.

sxx configurations by rynleaf (series). This is a SongXueXiao series on AO3 based off of @kevinkevinson‘s modern reincarnation AU and I am in love with both the art for that AU (go look!) and these fics, they’re so good, I’ve reread several times.

Misalignment by Kasasagi (WIP). The one with a reincarnated Xue Yang and a Xiao Xingchen who arrives in the modern world from the past, fresh off his suicide.

And Once Again, if I’m Allowed to Rec My Own Fic

a kindness you can’t afford. Early days in Yi City after Xue Yang wakes up.

lick your exit wounds. I wanted canonverse-era bottom Xue Yang praise kink, so I wrote it for myself in the hopes others would also find this an interesting prospect.

this place could be beautiful. Xue Yang vs. domestic living.

tear out all your tenderness. Xue Yang gets turned on by murder and makes it a project to get Xiao Xingchen to lose control.

the beauty of your repair. PWP, modern AU SongXueXiao; there’s not an inkling of plot here, it’s really just an excuse to get Xue Yang wrecked, but nicely.

#finally posting this!!!#yi city crew #fic rec #song lan #xue yang #xiao xingchen #i'm sure i'm missing things but there's only so much i can do #xuexiao #songxue #songxuexiao

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detroitbydark · 4 years

Text

Fox and Mouse Finale 2/2

Chapter 14

Part 1/2 can be found here

Characters: Commander Fox x Mouse (reader), and more Jedi/clones/politicians than you can shake a stick at.

Summary: Yearning and Fluff and SMUT! Oh my!

Rated: M 18+

A/N: Ladies and Lads this is it! A chapter so stupid long it required it be split in two pieces. I'm not going to make you wait and I'll be posting both this evening. I'm feeling really sentimental because this is the longest thing I've ever written and completed. I couldn't have done it without y’all. Your support and comments have helped me get through the tough periods of writing and the stress in my life as of late. This is for you guys! Thank you. I love you!

Special thanks as always to @skdubbs and @crimson-dxwn for being there to listen to me and help me every step of the way. You are both absolutely amazing!

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Fox’s head is reeling, but he feels like he’s holding it together well. He’s pretty sure she can’t feel the shaking in his hand as she takes it and drags him to his feet. Her smile is soft and comforting. It’s home. Mouse is home.

His bucket is left on to rest on the blanket as she leads him through the grass. Wildflowers press into the plates of his armor, leaving yellow smears of pollen in their wake. Mouse looks over her shoulder as they go. Fox wonders if she feels the same way he does, like this is all a dream that will be over the second he wakes. That he’s desperate to stay under its sway just a little while longer.

“Come on Al’verde,” she teases, “I feel like I’m dragging a ton of duracrete. Pick up your feet.”

Fox yanks her hand and she stumbles back toward him, hands colliding with his chest as she breaks into a fit of laughter so honeyed and sweet it would make the bees jealous. She rolls up onto the balls of her feet and kisses his chin, then the tip of his nose. If the boys could see him now, grinning down at her like a fool in love, like a man who didn’t have the weight of a thousand suns on his shoulders.

“Stop trying to distract me. I told you I want to show you something,” she says, pulling away before he can get his lips on hers.

She leads him toward the small pool of water he’d passed coming to find her, where twin waterfalls keep the water bubbling and a fine mist of droplets in the air. They cling to her hair and weigh down the thin fabric of her dress, highlighting the soft curves he was denying himself.

“Where are you taking me, little Mouse?”

She doesn’t answer, instead flashing that enigmatic smile again and leading him to a rock wall that shot up suddenly from green pasture and up into the sky. The sound of water is loud, not quite deafening but definitely distracting. Mouse lets loose his hand and slips in between a gap in the slab wall. He is a far bigger fan of his cyar’ika than he is of tight spaces, but it still gives him a moment's hesitation, finally broken by her teasing voice calling his name.

It’s dark, damp with moisture clinging to the walls that press in on him, but again, before they begin to close in around him, he hears her voice call to him and he follows it like a beacon. In reality the passage is short and opens quickly into a larger cavity. Light spills in and his eyes have barely adjusted before Mouse is pressing into him. Fox stumbles back a half step and laughs as he leans down, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. Mouse rests her head against his shoulder as he takes in his surroundings.

“I found it my first week here” she says softly. He nearly doesn’t hear her over the sound of rushing water. It wasn’t a true cave so much as it was an alcove behind one of the twin falls. “The flow has eased off as the rains have. When I first came I couldn’t even hear myself think. I think maybe that’s what I liked about it.”

Fox knows the feeling well, remembers throwing himself into his work to try to forget.

“Did it help?” Work hadn’t helped for him, nor had sparring with Hound, hitting the blaster range with Ryk, or any of the other half dozen things he’d done to push thoughts of her away.

Mouse offers him a sad smile before turning and walking toward the edge of the cave and reaching out letting water splash over her finger tips. “No.”

He can’t hold her gaze. Instead his eyes rove, search for something to focus on other than her and the feeling of failure that wells up on him. Mouse hadn’t been the only explorer to find the secret cave. Names are etched into the rock walls. Sets of initials added together, hearts and promises and small bits of flowery poetry of different ages. Generation upon generation of infatuations, puppy loves, lust, and tenderness written into stone for all eternity.

“Fox? You’re doing it again, aren’t you?”

The nearness to the falls has only made the cling of fabric to her skin worse. The pale blue is nearly sheer in parts and Fox tries not to focus on the way it sticks to her legs, outlines their shape. “Do what?”

“Feeling bad for me? Feeling bad for you? Take your pick.” Her voice is teasing but her eyes belay the seriousness underlying her words. “Don’t. It’s as easy as that, right? Just stop.” She beckons him with a small wave of her fingers.

“Come here so I can show you what’s so special.”

Fox closes the distance between them as she turns back to the rushing water. His body slots in behind hers. His hands circle her hips and he frowns again at just how much weight she lost.

Her fingers, cooled by the running water, reach back over her shoulder and cup his cheek. “I know it’s hard,” she says, all teasing gone, “but we’re going to do this together.”

“Communication,” he whispers quietly. “It’s important,” he clarifies. Mouse nods, her head falling back to rest against his chest.

“I’m going to communicate this then -I don’t now, nor have I ever blamed you for what has transpired. You’re no more at fault than I am.”

“But you’re not at fau-“ he stops abruptly. “I see what you're saying, but it’s easier to say than to believe.”

“Fake it until you make it.”

He shakes his head, a bitter laugh working its way past his lips before he leans forward and kisses the hair at the top of her head.

“That easy?”

“Was anything worth it ever easy?” she asks softly.

The simple answer was no. It all took work. It had taken nearly a year for him to kiss her for the first time, hadn't it?

“Fake it ‘til I make it,” he repeats, and he can feel as much as he can hear the contented hum she makes.

“Exactly. Now, what time have you got?” The sudden change of subject has him raising a brow and his vambrace up to look at the built in chrono. He rattles off the time and she makes another contented sound.

“Perfect timing. Now watch.” She stares out into the falling water. He’s nearly ready to ask what he’s watching for when a change in the light hits the droplets just right. Rainbows are thrown across the inside of the cave. Some steady, like the continuous fall of water, some here and gone as the stream is broken. He’s never seen anything like it. It’s stunning. Mouse leans back into his chest. The armor isn't comfortable to rest on but it doesn’t seem to bother her. He wishes it wasn’t between them.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

It is.

A small laugh bubbles from her lips as she turns and her fingers trace the strays colors flickering at his temple. One hand rests over his heart. She’s happy and in his arms and the moment is perfect.

“Marry me.”

The words slip from his lips faster than credits from a gamblers hands on Canto Bight.

Mouse startles, pulls back and then her foot is coming out from under her and her arms go to grabbing, finding purchase on one of his. Her weight, however slight, combined with his surprise are enough to drag him forward with her as the pair falls through the rushing water and immediately into the pool below.

Mouse comes up laughing and sputtering. Her teeth set to chattering almost instantly. Fox doesn’t find it nearly as funny, even less so when Mouse’s eyes fall on him and peals of laughter escape her til she can barely breathe. He’s cold and he can’t believe he asked that question.

“You look like an angry tooka!” she barely manages to get out as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m all wet.”

Mouse rises to her feet. The pool is shallow and only comes up to her hips. Her dress has gone sheer and leaves nothing to the imagination as she splashes water at her grumpy paramour. “So am I.”

His hair hangs nearly to his brows, pasted down against his forehead. Mouse squeals as his eyes narrow and he lunges for her. She barely gets away from his first attempt, but is far to slow for his second. He hauls her into his arms and holds her close.

“Gotcha.”

Mouse squirms and laughs in his grip but she isn’t really trying to get away. She only manages to give him a better look at the curve of her breasts and the pale shadow of peaked nipples through it.

“Don’t do it,” she warns.

Fox smiles, aiming for innocence but failing miserably. “Do what? Do…. this?”

He falls back, dragging her with him into the cold clear pool. Water clings to her lashes as they both come up gasping and laughing. He nearly apologizes but Mouse’s lips are on his, her hands at either side of his head.

Where her lips are cold, her tongue is warm and welcome as it strokes along his own. Suddenly the water doesn’t seem so cold, his soaked blacks underneath the layer of composite armor doesn’t chafe so much. It’s easy to forget the world exists outside of the pair of them and the soft sounds she’s making at the back of her throat and the equally needy moans she’s pulling from him.

He buries his face in her neck when she pulls back, nipping and sucking to reacquaint himself with all the sweet spots and equally enticing sounds they produced.

“Are we going to do this here?” She pants out his question from earlier. The want in her voice mirrors the one he felt.

“Kriff…” He manages to drag his mouth away from her wet skin. One arm around her waist secures her to him as he lets the rest of her body slide back into the water. He chuckles at her hiss as the cold envelopes her again.

“Ok. New plan-“

“Your room or mine?”

————

There’s going to be tiny puddles of water leading from the garden all the way up to the guest rooms. Mouse can look behind them and see them forming, falling between Fox’s armor and skin. They get particularly bad every so often. Like now, where the urge has overwhelmed one or both. Fox has her back pressed firmly against the wall, a tapestry on either side of them whose beauty is going completely unrecognized as she hikes a leg up over and around his hip. Fox’s mouth is fused to hers as a free hand massages her breast through the damp fabric.

“Going to make you scream my name.” Fox comes up for air, pressing his forehead into hers as they both pant. She squirms against him seeking friction that will ease the building tension.

Neither of them sees the Chancellor until he is clearing his throat.

“Well, it’s good to see that you two have made your amends.” She can feel Fox’s spine go rigid as her leg falls. He puts only a hair's breadth of space between them, stepping slightly between her and Bail Organa.

“Sir, I was just showing the lady back to her quarters.”

Mouse stifles a laugh, and Chancellor Organa seems to be holding back one of his own. Mouse presses into Fox’s back and peers around to the Chancellor.

“We’ve been having a very heated discussion on the personhood bill, Chancellor.” She offers.

Fox glances back at her with a filthy smile. “Very heated sir. It may take us the rest of the day to come to terms with it.” He glances back at the Chancellor and Mouse notes, not for the first time, the friendship that has blossomed between the two. He’d never been so relaxed when talking about Palp- He’d never dared an ounce of impropriety before but now he was blatantly flaunting his highly inappropriate relationship without the least hint of shame.

Bail let’s his eyes roam between the pair for half a second, “As you were Commander, who am I to get in the way of aggressive negotiations? I expect a full report at breakfast tomorrow.”

Fox bites back a smile. “Breakfast will be fine sir though my report may be heavily redacted.”

Bail shakes his head with a laugh, finally giving in. “So be it.” He takes a half a step to move past them before stopping. “I would take the back way upstairs. Your vode and their generals are having an impromptu Sabaac tournament in the parlor and you won’t get away from them as easily as you will from me.” Fox nods.

“Also Commander?”

Fox cocks his head in question.

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Bail gives his pauldron a quick pat as he walks by. Mouse watches as the Chancellor moves down the hall without a look back. When her eyes do move back to the man in front of her, a new heat is burning in his eyes. She stifles a laugh as he scoops her up.

“You're taking far too much time cyar’ika.”

Mouse finally does laugh as she points in the direction of the back stairs. “Me? I believe it was you who said this seemed like as good a spot as any.” She pitches her voice low in mockery of his own.

“You do a horrible impression,” he mutters, taking the steps two at a time. He’s not even breathing heavy by the time he reaches his room and eases them through the door.

Mouse’s feet have barely hit the floor before she starts helping pull off bits of armor. His bucket, attached to his belt for safekeeping, is carefully shucked into the small corner table as a pile of drippy plastoid begins to take shape on the floor. When he’s down to just his clinging Blacks he moves on her.

“You have too much on.”

Mouse grins as she bends, grips the hem of the dress, before pulling it up and over her head. She tosses it lazily to the side.

“Still too much,” he says slowly, as his eyes rove over her. Mouse laughs as he closes the space between them.

“I’ve got panties on Fox. That’s it.” She makes a small surprised sound as he drops to his knees in front of her. A surge of excitement catches her off guard as Fox’s hands grip her hips and pull her body close. She can feel the scratchy stubble along his chin as he nuzzles at the small dip where her thigh meets her hip.

“Still too much.”

He’s looking up the line of her body and Mouse feels something like power flowing through her as he leans in and places a soft kiss over her hip bone. His thumbs hook in the band of her simple panties and push them down over her sex, below her knees, to her feet where he gently encourages her to step out of them.

“Better?” He’s barely touched her but she already feels breathless.

He leans in, rests his head against the flat plain of her stomach, his warm breath tickles as his hand strokes up and down her thighs. “Yes. Much.”

A glint of silver flashes at his temple as Mouse brings her hand to stroke through his hair. Fox’s eyes slip shut. All the rush to arrive has led to this, a serene moment. A moment that leaves Mouse feeling more connected to him than any kiss on their way back to the estate.

“I see you have a perfectly lovely bed waiting for us.”

Fox turns into her body and presses his lips along her tummy then to her hip. “Can’t lie,” he murmurs against her skin, “I’m pretty content right here.” His eyes flutter shut once more as her nails gently rake across his scalp.

“Cyare,” she whispers softly, “take me to bed?”

Rising slowly to his feet Fox doesn’t let himself lose contact with her body once. His motions are unhurried. “Your accent is getting better.”

“I’ve had some help.”

Fox doesn’t ask who. He has an idea and he’ll probably have to thank them at some point, but he’d rather not think of the Marshal Commander while he makes love to his girlfriend.

Mouse steps away, smiling coyly over her shoulder as he reaches after her. The soft sway of her hips makes his mouth go dry.

“I feel like you’re the one with too many clothes now, Al’verde.”

There’s an underlying confidence to her that he doesn’t remember, a way she moves, a way she holds his gaze. It makes him want. It makes him need.

Just like she had with her dress, he is quick to pull off the black under armor top he wore but the reaction as her eyes trace over him isn’t quite the same as when she’d performed the same maneuver.

Mouse’s eyes go wide as she focuses on his chest.

“What is that?”

Why has her voice gone so quiet? He glances down and realizes-

“Oh Fox…” her hand is warm against his bare chest as she matches it up with the tattooed replica of her print.

“We’ll talk about it later, cyar’ika.” He tries to sound persuasive but the petite creature in front of him is not having it.

Fox allows her to drag him the last few steps to the bed. He plops down with a tired sigh.

“We’ll talk about it now.” It’s a gentle order but an order nonetheless.

“Communication?”

Mouse nods as she slides into his lap, a leg falling to either side of his. Fox’s hands come up automatically, one on her lower back and the other with fingers flexed over her bottom. “That would be a good start,” she encourages. Leaning in, Mouse presses her forehead to his.

“Now, why?”

It’s the most arousing interrogation he’s ever been a part of. One part of his brain says to kiss her and make her forget she ever had a question in the first place, but the other reminds him of Bly and General Secura.

Promises could be made ‘til the end of time, but if he didn’t follow through, if he didn’t show her that he intended to hold himself to that standard than everything he said, no matter how poetic or romantic, meant bantha shit.

“I didn’t want to forget you.”

“Oh Fox…”

He wishes she wouldn’t say that. He doesn’t like the sadness that fills her voice, like it’s not for herself but for him. Fox tips his head away ducking around her until he can press his cheek against the smooth expanse of her neck. Nothing about this came easy and she seems to give him the simple gift of a small escape.

“I failed you. I couldn’t let myself forget that,” he continues, his lips moving against her skin. His lips brush over her pulse and Mouse inhales so sweet and soft it nearly shatters him.

“Didn’t fail,” she manages out. Her hand slips between them and traces over the inked lines. “You could never.”

“Your faith in me is moving, cyar'ika, but I’m afraid your love for me has left you blind.”

Mouse laughs as his lips brush butterfly soft under her ear. Goosebumps erupt over her body. “So be it ner darasuum. Let me be blind and happy. It’s much preferable to being alone and sad.”

Fox freezes and draws back. Mouse looks so serene and at peace even though there’s no taking back what she’s just called him. My Forever.

Mouse’s hands gently cradle his cheeks. Her mouth curls into a smile, beatific and knowing. Fox feels like his chest is going to explode.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” The words slip from her lips with the smoothness of a nonnative speaker who is only becoming proficient. “Apparently, it was important for a silly little Mouse to learn more Mando’a.”

Words fail him. Even if he wasn’t saying the right thing he usually had something to say, but not to that. Not to her declaration worded in his preferred language, not when she was perched naked in his arms. Not when she looked down on him like she saw all his sins and cared for him in spite of them.

Fox leans in and captures her mouth with his own, cherishing the feeling of plump wanting lips under his own as he pulls her in close and presses his body against hers. Mouse goes pliant in his arms, moulding to his body as her arms snake around his neck. Her hips rock lazily, grinding against the hard line of him without any real intent just yet. He wishes he would have taken his pants off first. The telltale heat of her center is painfully close, the fabric already becoming damp with her arousal.

A quiet, needy sound rises up in her throat as his tongue strokes along hers. Last night had given him a none too gentle reminder of what a pleasure it was to touch her. Earlier in the cave, it had been a tease of what was to come. Now there was no chance she was getting away from him. No ultimatums, no di’kutla proposals to ruin the moment. It was just them and the sunlight soaked day stretching out ahead.

Mouse’s tongue slides along his own. She’s less languid now. Her body rolls against his with intimate purpose. Each time she grinds down on him her breasts press against his chest. He's lightheaded from the press of her skin, hot against his.

His blacks feel constricting.They're irritating and uncomfortably tight. Fox attempts to push them down with one hand but there’s no room between them. He lifts his hips and she lets out a needy moan into his mouth that makes the aching hardness pressing against his thigh that much worse.

One hand slides up the bare expanse of her spine, feels the little ridges as it goes. Fox’s fingers tangle in her loose hair and pull her away. Mouse whines at the loss.

“Cyar’ika, precious one, sweet love of my life,” he starts, “if I don’t get these pants off I’m going to cum in them like some shiny cadet.”

It takes a moment for her to swing her leg over him, kneeling to the side. His focus shifts to getting his no good, kriffing blacks off his legs while Mouse seems to want to challenge his ability to complete any task. He watches as she leans. Starting at the edge of his shoulder, she begins laying trailing kisses. He falls back onto the elbow nearest her to keep his body propped, allowing her easier movement while his other hand grips at the waist of his blacks and yanks them down as he lifts his hips up. It’s such a relief when his cock bobs free that he nearly groans.

He does groan when Mouse’s smart little mouth moves from his collarbone down to his tattoo. It’s fascinating watching as she kisses each red inked finger. He reaches down and grasps the hardness between his legs and pumps it lazily.

From the tips of the tattoo she trails her tongue over his heated skin, moving down until her mouth opens to envelop his nipple. Fox can’t help but arch at the sensation of her hot mouth as she gently alternates between nipping and sucking..

“Fierfek,” he curses lowly as she continues to heap attention on him. Her other hand slips down his body and shoos his own away from his cock. It’s heaven to watch her wrap her delicate fingers around him and pump, gathering beads of precum to aid in lubricating each stroke.

He curses again as her thumb sweeps over the weeping slit. Mouse’s mouth comes free from his nipple with a soft ‘pop’ of release and she places one more kiss in the center of his tattoo.

“Cyar’ika, I want to taste you.” His cock comes to rest, hard and leaking into his belly as she lets go.

“I think we’ll be discussing the logistics of the bill all night, don’t you?” Mouse offers him a heavy-lidded smile as she pushes on his opposite shoulder until he gives in and falls back onto a matching elbow.

Fox can only nod mutely as one leg is draped back over his lap. “Right now I don’t want to play anymore.” She says softly, taking his cock in hand and lining it up with her center. “I need you, Fox.”

A low groan escapes them both as the angry red tip of him comes into contact and swipes along her drenched outer lips. She moves him back and forth, collecting her slick along the tip of his cock as she goes. Her mouth falls open in a quiet moan as she uses his weeping tip to rub her clit. The teasing is exquisite torture. Months of longing and desire build with each touch of her skin to his.

One hand shoots forward and steadies her hip as she slowly begins to take him. Usually he’d have used his fingers to help prepare her body, but she’s not having any of that right now. He watches her move, taking little bits at a time. Her head falls back, her eyes shut and her lips parted. That possessive little part in his soul purrs at the sight of his woman, his partner splitting herself open, desperate for him.

“Say it again,” he demands, fingers digging into the flesh of her hip.

Mouse feels drunk on sensation. It’s been too long since she’s had him and each inch she takes stretches her body deliciously.

“I need you, Fox,” she repeats. Her eyes flutter open to meet the soft golden brown hues of his own locked intently on her.

This is better than any dream, any late night with her fingers working furiously pretending they were something they weren’t, better than the discreetly packaged toy she’d purchased off the holonet. All were poor facsimiles for what she felt now as she comes to rest against his body feeling overwhelmingly full.

“Feel so good,” Fox praises, his voice gone rough, drawn tight like the muscle straining in his neck, “Missed touching you.”

Fox’s hand strays from her hip, thumb skimming along her belly as he slides it up her body. Mouse moves her hips tentatively as his rough fingers skim over her breast and capture the pebbled peak topping it. He rolls the dusky tip of her nipple between his fingers, drawing a ragged moan from her.

“You ready to move, cyar’ika?” he purrs as he plucks gently. The sensation travels straight to her center. She can’t help but arch into his touch, crying out softly at the combination of stimuli. Fox’s hips jerk seemingly against his own will, just a micro movement, but it makes her head spin all the same as she slowly begins to rock her body, rising up oh so slightly before sinking back down fully. Mouse watches as his head falls back and his hand falls back to her hip in a desperate grip.

Soft sounds spill from her lips, a constant flow of pleasure for him to hear.

“Look at me,” he demands raggedly as her eyes fall shut again. His hips cant up to meet her, their bodies rolling together in a sinuous motion.

She hears his name fall from her lips, full of love and desperation. In a smooth movement Fox is pushing himself into a sitting position and wrapping his arms around her, tight bands of muscle she couldn’t escape even if she wanted to. Her rhythm is lost as he moves them back, until his back is against the headboard. His knees angle up behind her. An arm stays banded around her as he uses the leverage to begin to fuck up into her willing body. It takes a moment for her to find her rhythm again as bright beams of pleasure shock her system each time the head of his cock brushes against her sensitive walls. He chuckles as she makes a frustrated sound.

“There, there, precious. I’m going to make you feel so good,” he promises, nuzzling against her throat. His breath is hot on her skin and she struggles to ground herself among the sea of emotions swirling around her. She feels his teeth graze along her collarbone and her body clenches around him. Fox growls low against her skin. Mouse holds tight to one shoulder, nails leaving angry half moon marks, as her other hand grasps for the short hair at the back of his head.

Dark marks are sucked into the skin on the column of her neck, her shoulder, the soft spot just below her jaw. She shouldn’t enjoy his possessiveness as much as she does, but Mouse can’t help the way she rocks just a little harder against him thinking about what she’ll see in the mirror tomorrow. A feeling, tight and winding, begins to build low in her belly leaving her feeling like she was in a race to catch up.

Fox feels it too, the telltale seizing of muscles as her body began its hunt toward climax. Her nails dig sharply into his skin as he finds her mouth. It’s sloppy and needy. Mouse’s teeth nip at his lip and he feels his own end threatening, a telltale tingle starting at the base of his spine. Not yet though.

Their bodies move together, finally finding some semblance of familiarity after so long apart. The quiet whimpers that have been slowly spilling from her mouth become louder echoing pleasantly in his ears.

“You’re close, aren’t you? Me too.” Her hips stutter at his observation. “I want to feel you first. Can you do that for me?”

“Fox- please.” There was something about the way she asked, so polite with her “please” that strokes his ego, bringing a self-satisfied grin to his face.

“What do you need, little Mouse?”

“Ask me again,” she demands breathlessly, “Please ask me again.”

Ask? Ask what? At this point he’d honestly do anything she asked of him. His brows knit together and she must see his confusion through the fog of her desire.

“Earlier. Under the falls- you asked-“ Fox’s hand drops between them, finds her clit and begins rubbing it in smooth circles. Mouse’s back arches and her head falls against his shoulder.

“Again. Ask again.” She begs softly.

Did she mean-?

“Cyar’ika, look at me” he demands, slowing down just enough to turn his head, nuzzle his nose against hers until he’s sure her lust darkened eyes are focused only on his. “Marry me?”

“Fox… Fox… Fox…” she so close he can feel her body pulled taut like a bow. Sweat drips between their bodies as they chase release together. “Yes. Maker- yes.” She manages out seconds before waves of pleasure wash over her. She calls out his name in basic and again, softer, in Mando’a. It comes out as a sweet Fox’ika he’s never heard her use before.

He holds her close, working her through her high until he can no longer keep his own pace and his body coils tight and snaps. The world whites out as he finds his end in her, each pulse of his cock met by the vice grip of her body around him seemingly working in tandem with his to bring about an orgasm that leaves him overwhelmed and disoriented.

Mouse trembles in his arms. It’s the first thing he’s able to note as he comes back into himself. The next is that her lips are peppering his skin lazily with feather light kisses, murmuring soft words against his neck.

And then it hits him.

He nearly jostles her from her position straddling his lap with the sharp movement he makes. She wraps her arms around his neck and has the audacity to laugh at his stunned expression

“You want to marry me?”

Mouse leans in and kisses the very tip of his nose. “You already asked me that, silly.” Her fingers tease gently at the short hair at the back of his head.

“I- Kriff, you know what I meant.” He slips his hands up between her arms and holds her face. Her eyes are soft and relaxed, her cheeks still painted with a flush of pink, a small smile tugs at her lips. She looks perfectly content and… in love.

With him.

“Of course I want to marry you, taking care of you is a full time job-“ He drags her in for a kiss, slanting his mouth over hers. When she pulls back she’s laughing. “-at least this way I can collect the fringe benefits.”

He feels a smile split his own features in two.

Mouse squirms in his grip. The fading blush returns with a vengeance as he slips from her body, an unquestionable wet trickle following. While she may be embarrassed, he finds it sinfully hot to have his seed marking her thigh. He takes pity though and lets her escape to the ‘fresher. He lets his head fall back against the headboard. He can’t wipe the smile from his face. In his wildest dreams he never saw this playing out like it had.

The sound of the door opening has him turning his head lazily in her direction. He’s pretty sure she’s a goddess. Nope. Strike that. He was positive she was a Goddess and somehow she was his.

She tosses a warm washcloth his way and averts her eyes as he cleans up. It makes him chuckle as he does. She crawls back into bed as he finishes and attempts to lay next but that wasn’t going to work. Instead he drags her back into his lap. She curls into him as soon as she’s in place, legs off one side, head resting on his opposite shoulder all the while looking like she was made to be there.

“When do you think we could do it?” she asks softly,”It’s not exactly legal.”

He’s already thought of that.

“We could do it anytime you want. The old Mandalorian way. Exchange some vows and bam! Married.” Her brows furl in thought “unless you want to wait for-“

“I’m not Mandalorian.”

“And I’m just a poor facsimile of one,” he huffs when her frown deepens. “It’s the vow that matters. If you believe in the words you're saying, the vow you make, what does it matter?” Her hand feels so soft and so fragile in his own as he brings it up to his lips and gently kisses along her knuckles.

“So we could do this?”

“We could do this.”

“When?” There’s an excitement stirring in her voice and he doesn’t try to hide the matching energy on his own.

“Whenever you wa-“

“Now. I want it now.” She slips off his lap and turns to him, kneeling. Her eyes are as bright as the stars in the sky and far more captivating as far as Fox is concerned. He sits up a little straighter.

“You’re serious? Just like that?”

Mouse nods. She’s never been so sure of anything in her life. When he’d said it earlier today she was scarcely sure she heard him correctly, and then the icy bath in the pool had worked wonders in rearranging her priorities.

“Stop questioning me. You’d think you’d be happy to-“

He steals the air from her lungs and the words from her mouth with a kiss that, had her panties not already been on floor, would have surely put them there. His hands cup her face and she’s thankful for the anchor they provide as she whimpers into his mouth. She lets out a ragged breath as he pulls back just enough for her to focus.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde."

Maker bless Cody because she understands every word Fox says. The Marshal Commander hadn’t even blinked when she’d posed her question.

“You have to breathe Cyar’ika,” Fox whispers and Mouse lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Fox’s brows bunch together as her silence stretches. “We don’t have to-“

Mouse presses a finger to his lips and he quiets.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde."

Fox leans in, presses his forehead to hers. Her heart is full. Her soul is light.

“Mine,” he promises softly.

She smiles at the claim.

“Mine,” she makes her own assertion.

His thumb strokes along her jaw. “Precious…” He pulls her back into his lap and Mouse’s eyes grow wide as she looks down as giggles begin to bubble up in her chest.

“Again already?”

“We need to get to work on those little warriors.”

——-

Mouse really hadn’t wanted to get out of bed. Strike that. She had adamantly refused to get out of bed. She was nowhere near Fox’s level of ‘morning person’ and the pleasantly dull ache between her legs left her even more certain that bed was the perfect place for her.

Unfortunately, her newly minted Riduur had other ideas. Mainly to watch the sunrise - just once - over Naboo’s famed lakes. He’d seemed so hopeful that she had begrudgingly crawled from her bed and slid into a pair of leggings before stealing one of the black under armors he’d packed. He seemed to approve as she tied the overly large shirt off just below her navel, his eyes lingering on the bare strip of flesh as he’d pulled his own clothes on. It had been fascinating and almost jarring to see him in something other than regulation GAR issued clothes, instead having opted for the simple pants and tunic that Padmé had left for all her guests in their rooms.

“You know, we could still go back to bed and discuss the little warriors some more,” she teases lightly as she reaches across the table and retrieves an insulated carafe. She pours two mugs of rich black caf and then begins doctoring them accordingly.

The light is slowly beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a soft glow over the lake when the patio doors open and the rest of their party ease into the cool morning air.

Fox huffs, “First we eat and then we’ll discuss what pops up.”

“You’re talking about sex right?” Bly’s voice echoes over the patio, “because honestly, bravo. Amiright?” He looks to an exasperated General Secura and an equally unamused Cody. “Because wow, you two give Aayla and I a run for our credits.”

“Bly!” The Commander winces as Aayla cuts her eyes at him. Mouse hides her embarrassed smile in the hot mug of sweet caf.

“Come on, look at him!” Bly points to Fox who sips at his own caf. “When was the last time he looked so much like himself?”

“You mean a smug asshole?” Cody cuts in straight faced, but eyes dancing with amusement.

“Exactly!”

Mouse glances at her husband and the way he’s relaxed back in his chair with one leg crossed over the other, the sleeves of his cream tunic rolled up just below his elbows with strong forearms on display... stars above! And that grin…

He did, in fact, look like a smug asshole and it did things to her.

“Don’t be jealous Bly. It’s not becoming.” Fox baits his vod happily.

“Why you little mir’sheb-“

Cody rolls his eyes and physically moves Bly out of the way with a straight arm to find his spot at the table.

Aayla slides in next to Mouse. The Jedi gives her a knowing smirk before gently touching a spot just behind her ear. The twi’lek’s voice is conspiratorial. “Our boys like to make it appear as if we’ve done battle with octopi, no? Bacta gel and high collars are going to be your best friend.”

Mouse can feel her cheeks heating up again as Bly’s head appears over Aayla’s shoulder. “Don’t let her fool you. She’s never worn anything high collared in her entire life.”

“Are we starting in on the armor argument again this early?” the blue skinned woman asks with a huff.

“Now that you mention it…”

The pair dissolve into playful bickering while the doors open and Padmé and Anakin make their way onto the patio, each with a baby in tow, while General Kenobi takes up the rear. The atmosphere is lively as everyone settles in. Babies are dispersed and fawned over. Bly smiles widely as Luke fumbles to touch and grab at his face. Obi-wan has a placid watchful Leia in his arms. Both look serene to a point where it’s nearly comical.

The Chancellor makes his presence known as the food is being spread out.

“What a strange group we have here,” he notes with a smile.

“Ah yes, it would seem you have stumbled on the inaugural meeting of those who don’t believe in fraternization regulations.” Obi-wan’s eyes sparkle with mischief while at his side Cody rolls his.

A small laugh rises within the group and for a moment there is no war, no separatists, no strife or heartache within the Republic. For a moment everyone is allowed to just be, without making decisions or worrying about repercussions.

Mouse tops off Fox’s caf before pouring one for Cody, who thanks her with a knowing smile and nod. Fox is busy piling a plate with food. Colorful cut fruit, fresh meats, and rich pastries fill it as he sits back.

The babies are making their rounds. Anakin has managed to wrangle his daughter back from the child’s Grand Master and Luke is plunked into Mouse’s arms while Padmé seems to enjoy the moment sans child.

When she glances at Fox, she can’t help but notice the way he looks at the infant in her arms. His eyes soften at the little boy as he gurgles and tries to grab ahold of Mouse’s braid hanging over her shoulder.

If he had his way, they’d have a tiny one of their own in nine months. Not that she was complaining. If they could use their contacts to rush Me’kar’s adoption through, they could have two before the next Festival of Life. Of course, until Padme’s bill became law, Fox wouldn’t be the father of record for at least Me’kar - possibly either child - but they’d already talked about it and they would do it the Mando way until they could-

“Cyar’ika? You’re thinking very hard about something,” Fox notes softly, holding his hands out for his turn with Luke.

“Yes, I hope you're feeling well,” Padmé adds as Mouse admires the tiny child tucked comfortably into the crook of his elbow, “I hear that you may not have had much sleep last night.” Mouse’s head snaps to her friend who - for being an amazing politician - is doing an awful job of hiding her smile behind her cup of juice.

Mouse glances sideways at the snort her husband makes. He pushes the plate of food in front of her and eyes it. “Eat, precious.”

He ignores the way her eyes roll and maintains his stare until she takes the first bite of fruit.

“Commander Fox.” Bail eyes the pair of them as he speaks, “I wonder if you had the report on those aggressive negotiations we’d spoken of yesterday.”

“As I stated, they’re likely to remain heavily redacted.” The grin that spreads across Fox’s face should have warned her he was up to no good. “But my Riduur and I came to a perfectly reasonable agreement in the end.”

Bastard.

The table goes silent as Fox looks down and coos something to Luke. Mouse puts her head down and chews longer than necessary. Someone drops a fork. Then, all at once-

“As someone experienced in secret weddings-“

“Can he do that? Legally speaking-”

“Leave it to Fox-”

“I have a sister now?! Cody we have-“

“This is going to go over like a-“

“There’ll be no living with him now. Does this set a-“

Mouse takes another bite as she looks over at the satisfied grin on the face of the Coruscant Guard Commander. “Are you quite happy now?”

“Very.”

She can’t argue with that.

#fox and mouse #commander fox #cc 1010 #commander fox/reader

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rpf-bat · 4 years

Text

Celebrate The End Of Things With Cheap Champagne

Pairing: Frank Iero x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: @sirloin-steaks requested a Frank story based on the song “New Year’s Day” by Taylor Swift.

It’s December 31st, 2006, and My Chemical Romance are ringing in the New Year, performing live in Times Square. Frank invites you to come out, and see the show. But, an after-party at the band’s hotel, takes a turn, that nobody saw coming.

Trigger warning for substance abuse.

You stood on the deck of the ferry boat, watching the bright lights of New York City draw closer and closer. You used to take this ferry every day, from your hometown in New Jersey, to your job in Manhattan. But, that seemed like so long ago now.

Once upon a time, your friend and former coworker, Gerard, would catch the morning ferry with you. But, after the September 11th attacks, he’d quit his job at your company, and started a band. His decision had puzzled you at first. But, the first time you saw My Chemical Romance perform live, you had understood.

That was also the night that you met Frank. His guitar playing was electric, and you told him as much, after the band finished their set. It had been at some shitty dive bar - the only venues that would take them at the time. But, he’d told you that night, that he, and Gee, and the guys, were going to make it to the big time. You’d admired his ambition, and the two of you became fast friends. And he’d been right.

Now, four years later, My Chemical Romance was one of the biggest bands in the country. Their album, The Black Parade, had just dropped two months ago, debuting at #2 on the Billboard charts. They had gotten popular enough, to receive a prestigious offer. Ryan Seacrest had asked them to play New Year’s Rockin’ Eve, tonight, in Times Square!

Millions of Americans tuned in every New Year’s Eve, to see the concert broadcast, and watch the ball drop at midnight. It was crazy to you, that your dorky friends from back home in New Jersey, had gotten “big” enough to perform alongside glitzy pop stars, like Christina Aguilera.

You were so psyched for them. It would also be the first time you had seen them in a while. Frank was the only one of the guys who still technically lived in New Jersey. When he was home, and off the road, he would come over to your house all the time, to watch movies, or play video games, just like in the old days. But, the last time that had happened, had been months ago. He, and the rest of the band, had been traveling around nonstop, doing radio and TV interviews, to promote the new album. In February, they were supposed to embark on a world tour.

“But after tonight’s show, we’ll have a little bit of time off, before the tour starts,” Frank had told you excitedly on the phone, yesterday afternoon, when he’d invited you to the gig. “I really hope we get to spend more time together, Y/N. I missed you.”

You had missed him, too - more than words could describe. Your heart ached whenever you drove past his house, knowing that he wasn’t in it. You had things you wanted to say to him tonight - things you’d been waiting to tell him for a long time.

Your heart hammered as you stepped off the ferry, and began walking towards Time Square. The streets were packed with people, all rushing towards the same place you were. You knew some New Yorkers had started camping out at three o’clock in the afternoon, to get the best seats. If Frank hadn’t sent you a VIP pass in the mail, you’d surely have ended up in the way back of the crowd, nowhere close to the stage.

You showed your pass to the security personnel, who were looking through peoples’ bags at a checkpoint, near the entrance to the Square. They waved you through to a special designated area, in the front row, for friends and family of the performers. You were pretty sure the kid on your left was the fourth Jonas Brother. You felt remarkably out of place.

But, then your phone beeped, alerting you that you had a text. A smile crossed your face, when you realized it was from Frank.

We r about 2 head onstage, he said. I will see you after our set, I promise! There’s nobody I’d rather ring in 2007 with :)

You heard the crowd start screaming, and your head whipped around, as you watched the announcer stroll onto the stage.

“Please welcome our next musical guest - My! Chemical! Romaaaaance!”

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Their performance was amazing. They were one of a dozen artists performing tonight, so they only got to do three songs, before they had to get offstage and make room for the next act (Gwen Stefani, apparently). But, they put their whole hearts into those three tracks. Frank was jumping around like a maniac with his guitar, despite the freezing cold. Ray even had a pair of “2007” sunglasses on.

You screamed for them, like every other girl in the crowd. At this point, you thought with a frown, there’s probably ten thousand people, with a crush on the same man, that I’ve been pining for since 2002.

...Then again, you considered, the ten thousand other girls, don’t have backstage passes.

Your frown disappeared, when you walked backstage, and a pair of arms immediately circled you.

“Y/N!” Frank grinned. “Thank you so much for coming out and seeing us tonight!”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” you grinned, hugging your friend back. “You were amazing.”

“Thank you,” Frank said sincerely, releasing you from his grip. “Are you ready to get out of this cold?”

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“Back to the hotel,” he explained. “Ray’s not feeling so good.”

“Oh, no,” you frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Hi, Y/N!” Ray greeted, waving at you with one hand, while he pulled a tissue from his pocket, with the other. He blew his nose loudly. “....Sorry,” he muttered. “How are you?”

“It’s okay!” you assured him. “I’m fine...I’m sorry you’re not doing so well, though. You sound awful.”

“It’s this East Coast weather,” he shrugged, throwing the tissue in a nearby wastebasket. “I hate doing outdoor shows, in the wintertime.”

“You sounded great onstage,” you reassured him. “Nobody could even tell you were sick.”

“The dorky sunglasses conceal how puffy his eyes are,” Frank confessed. “Poor guy didn’t sleep at all last night.”

“Well, hopefully, I’ll sleep better tonight,” Ray chucked. “We’ve got two rooms at the Knickerbocker Hotel - one for me and Mikey, and one for Frank and Gerard.”

“Speaking of which,” you asked, “where is Gerard?”

“Here I am!” chuckled a voice behind you, and you turned and saw your old friend Gerard, beaming at you. “Sorry, I was busy calling our cab. It’s so good to see you, Y/N! Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me!” you smiled back. “I’m really proud of you guys, getting to be part of such a major event.”

“Oh, it’s surreal,” Gerard confessed. “I used to come up here with my mom and dad, and Mikey, every New Year’s Eve, to watch the show live. I never thought I’d be in the show.”

“We’re really lucky,” Mikey smiled, appearing beside Gerard, with a glass of champagne in his hand.

“Ooh, where’d you get that?” Frank asked.

“They’re giving them out to all the VIPs,” Mikey explained. “Would you like one, Y/N?”

“I don’t think I qualify as a Very Important Person,” you confessed.

“Nonsense,” Frank shook his head. “You’re very important to me.”

“Yeah,” Mikey nodded. “You’ve been good friends with all of us for a long time. You can have whatever you want.”

“No time for that,” Gerard shook his head. “Our cab’s here.”

“C’mon,” Frank said, lacing his fingers with yours. “We have to go out through a secret exit, so that the fans don’t mob us.”

“Oh, shit, really?” you chuckled. “I feel like a secret agent.”

“Our lives have gotten so weird, honestly,” Gerard confessed. “I’m kinda glad that we’re gonna put some distance, between us and these crowds.”

“Yeah, it’ll just be five of us, once we get to the hotel,” Mikey nodded. “Well...four. Ray is gonna go to sleep in our room, as soon we get there. But, the rest of us can party in Frankie and Gee’s room til midnight.”

“Or later,” Frank grinned mischievously.

You smiled at your four oldest friends. “I can’t wait.”

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“Ok, question,” you asked uncertainly, staring at the yellow cab in front of you. “How are we gonna fit five people in there?”

“It’s gonna be a tight squeeze,” Frank chuckled.

“Well, hey, we’ve managed to fit in smaller places before, right?” Gerard pointed out.

“True,” Ray laughed. “Remember when we were traveling around New Jersey, in our shitty little van?”

“We were all practically right on top of each other,” Mikey recalled.

When the band had first started, you had gone with them, on weekend trips, to play a gig, in the next town over. You’d squished between the boys, somehow, and helped them carry their equipment into the venue. Watching them rock the faces off the local kids, had been so much fun.

But, as time went on, they started getting offers to play at clubs across state lines. Day trips turned into months-long tours. You couldn’t commit to that - unlike Gerard, you still had a day job. And so, you started seeing the guys less and less. Then they’d gotten a record deal - and everything had gotten even more complicated.

“That was….a long time ago,” you frowned.

“Yeah,” Frank said wistfully. “I wish we had the chance to do that again.”

“Well, now, most of the time, we don’t have to squish,” Ray pointed out. “We have a nice, roomy tour bus, with bunks and everything.”

“You’ve come a long way,” you smiled weakly.

You were quiet as you piled into the car. As the taxi started driving down the street, you stared out at the night sky, and the city lights flying by. Suddenly, Frank gently touched your hand, making you turn, and face him.

“Hey,” he said quietly, giving your hand a squeeze, “are you alright, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“Tonight’s supposed to be a party, remember?” he teased. “So, try and smile for me, okay?”

“I’ll try,” you promised. It was far easier to smile, with him around.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You could tell as soon as you walked into the lobby, that this was a five star hotel. A crystal chandelier, cast a soft glow over the pristine decor.

“We already got our room keys earlier,” Gerard explained. “So, we can go ahead up.”

You nodded, and followed him and the guys to the elevator.

“I think I’m gonna crash as soon as we get upstairs,” Ray confessed, sniffling into his tissue again.

“I don’t blame you,” you said sympathetically. The elevator dinged, as you arrived at your floor.

“Since I won’t see you guys until tomorrow,” Ray sighed, “Happy New Year, alright?”

“Happy New Year, Ray,” you waved, as you watched him unlock his hotel room door, and head inside. “Feel better soon!”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Ray wheezed, closing the door behind him.

“Alright, let’s head into our room,” Frank grinned, opening the door to the adjoining room. “What do you want to do first?”

“Let’s turn the TV on,” Mikey suggested, immediately looking for the remote. “I wanna see the other performances. They’re still broadcasting live right now.”

“Oh, true,” you nodded. “We can still watch the ball drop tonight, on this flat screen!”

“I wanna look at the room service menu,” Gerard grinned. “Y/N, you can have anything you want. Just let me know.”

“Thanks, Gee,” you grinned. “Should we get champagne to toast with, at midnight?”

“I’ll get it for you three,” Gerard shrugged. “For me? I guess I’ll order a club soda. If they put it in a fancy glass, I can still clink it with yours when the clock strikes twelve.”

“Yeah, that works,” Frank agreed. “Looks almost the same.”

You frowned. That’s right, you remembered. Gerard is about two and a half years sober now.

You remembered going to see them, at their Englishtown show, during Warped Tour ‘04. Gerard had been a mess. You hadn’t seen him in two or three months, and you were shocked how much he’d deteriorated. You’d felt helpless. If you’d had more time, maybe you could have talked some sense into him. But, the very next day, he had to get back on his bus, and head to another gig, in Pennsylvania.

Frank had called you on the phone, maybe a week later, and told you Gerard had decided to get clean, on his own. You didn’t know how, or why. You didn’t know fifty percent, of what went on in your friends’ heads anymore.

“.....Y/N?” Frank called, his voice stunning you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry,” you blinked. “Did you say something?”

“Yeah, I said I’m going out to the balcony, to have a smoke,” Frank replied. “I asked you if you wanted to come with me?”

“Oh….yeah, sure,” you nodded, and followed him out. “Got a light?”

“Here,” Frank said, pulling a lighter out of his pocket, and handing it to you.

You took a pack of Marlboros out of your purse, and lit one. “Thanks,” you said, handing it back.

Frank lit his own cigarette, and took a drag. You glanced over at him as you inhaled the nicotine, watching how the cool night breeze tousled his hair.

“I thought you said on the phone, that you were trying to quit,” Frank raised an eyebrow.

“I should,” you sighed, exhaling smoke. “I know it’s bad for me.”

“Sorry for being a bad influence,” Frank laughed. “I know I got no room to talk.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shrugged, taking another puff. “I guess I’m just stressed tonight.”

“About what?” Frank asked, looking at you curiously.

“It’s stupid,” you mumbled.

“Tell me,” Frank insisted, taking his free hand in yours again. Your heart raced at his casual touch.

“I just…,” you sighed, unsure how to begin. “I never see you guys anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Frank frowned.

“No, don’t be,” you shook your head. “I’m being selfish. I should be happy for you, right? It’s a good thing, that the band has gotten so successful, that you have fans in practically every city in the world, that want to see you.”

“Yeah, they get to see me,” Frank groaned. “But, I don’t get to see my friends, or family - any of the people I love most - for months at a time.”

The people he loves most. Your face reddened. Did you really fit into that category?

“After tonight,” you asked, “how long will you be in town?”

“The first night of the tour is February 22nd,” Frank explained. “The gig’s in New Hampshire, so we’ll be flying out the night before.”

“So we have….slightly less than two months, to spend time together,” you calculated. “And after that, the next time you’ll be in my neck of the woods is…?”

“Bamboozle Festival,” Frank replied. “That’s in May.”

“Wow,” you frowned. “Are you playing all three days of the festival, or…?”

“Nah, just one,” Frank said sheepishly. “We’ll be in Jersey for a night….the very next day, we’ll be playing a gig in fuckin’ Maine.”

“The fun never stops, I guess,” you deadpanned.

“I mean, it is fun,” Frank admitted. “I love being a musician. Playing my guitar, onstage, is all I’ve wanted to do, my entire life.”

“Yeah, it’s your dream,” you said quickly, “that’s why I should just shut up, and let you…”

“You don’t have to shut up,” Frank interrupted. “Y/N, I want you to tell me how you feel.”

“How do I feel, Frank?” you repeated, your emotions starting to get the best of you. “I feel like I don’t even know my friends at all anymore! I don’t want you to turn into a stranger, whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. I’m still working the same dead end job I had the day I met you….but your life has completely changed. You’re gone 80% of the year, and yeah, I know you text or call me whenever you can, but when I’m not there face to face, I still miss so much of your life! You used to be just….a guy next door, that I could listen to records and smoke with. Now you’re some….millionaire rock star. That coat you’ve got on right now is probably worth more than my first car, and you’ve probably got girls in every town, throwing their panties at you…”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t look twice at any of those girls,” Frank said, looking you in the eye, “if a certain someone, told me, that she wanted me to be hers, and hers alone.”

A certain someone….? you gasped. Did he mean…?

“Hey!” a voice interrupted, and you jumped, as the sliding glass door slid open, and Gerard stepped onto the balcony. “There you guys are!”

“H-hey,” you stammered, taken aback.

“Everything alright?” Gerard asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s cool,” Frank mumbled, not looking at you at all, as he stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray. “What did you need?”

“We’ve got about five minutes til midnight,” Gerard smiled. “Figured you guys would want to come back inside, so we can count down the last seconds of 2006 together.”

“Oh, right, of course,” you blinked. “Did room service already bring up the champagne flutes?”

“Yeah, they’re ready to go,” Gerard nodded. “....Wait. Where’s Mikey?”

“We thought he was with you,” Frank said, looking confused.

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “I went to the bathroom, and when I came back out, he was gone. If he’s not on the balcony with you guys, where did he go?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Maybe he went to his and Ray’s room?”

“Oh, yeah, that would make sense,” Gerard nodded. “Let’s go get him.”

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Gerard knocked loudly on the hotel room door.

“Come on, Mikey!” he called. “We got three minutes til midnight, you’re gonna miss the ball drop, dude!”

The door swung open, but instead of Mikey, a sleepy-looking Ray answered.

“Mikey’s not in here,” Ray said with a yawn. “It’s just me.”

“Oh, sorry for waking you up, man,” Gerard apologized.

“Wait,” Frank realized. “If he’s not in either hotel room, then, where is he?”

“Maybe he went to go get ice?” Ray suggested.

“Or maybe he went downstairs, to ask the front desk guy something,” you guessed.

“Let’s split up,” Frank suggested. “You guys go down the hall and see if he’s by the ice machine. Y/N and I will look for him downstairs.”

“Yeah, we can do that,” Gerard agreed. “Hopefully we’ll find him before the end of the year!”

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“This elevator’s taking too long to get up here,” Frank said impatiently, hitting the down-arrow button a second time.

“Wanna just take the stairs?” you suggested.

“Works for me,” Frank shrugged.

You followed him into the stairwell, your heart still pounding from the conversation on the balcony. What would have happened, you wondered, if Gerard hadn’t walked in when he did?

Frank kept his eyes on the flight of stairs in front of you, not saying a word, as you walked past the sign, indicating that you were now on the second floor.

“Maybe he didn’t go this wa...oh, fuck,” Frank gasped, coming to a sudden stop.

Your blood froze, when you saw what he was looking at. Mikey’s unconscious body, lay sprawled across the bottom steps. He was face down….he didn’t even look like he was breathing.

“Mikey, oh my god!” You ran to his side, flipping him over, so that you could see his face. “Frank, we have to help him!”

The bassist looked deathly pale, and his lips had turned a horrifying shade of blue. You felt for a pulse. It was there, but it was disturbingly weak.

“Come on, Mikey, wake up!” you pleaded, shaking his shoulders. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with him?!”

“I think he’s overdosing,” Frank realized, kneeling by your side.

“On what?!” you gasped.

“On whatever he went downstairs, to pick up from his dealer,” Frank growled. “Goddamnit! We need to call 911.”

“Mikey!” a familiar voice called, and Gerard and Ray burst into the stairwell.

“Oh, god!” Gerard gasped, when he saw his brother, lying eerily still in your arms.

“I’m trying to wake him up!�� you explained. “It’s not working...fuck, what do I do?”

“He needs a doctor,” Ray realized, whipping out his cell phone. “....Hello? Yes, we’re having an emergency…...the Knickerbocker Hotel….umm, Six Times Square….please hurry….my friend isn’t breathing…”

You shook Mikey’s shoulders again. His eyes fluttered open, but his pupils were like pinpricks. He gasped and choked, like he couldn’t get air into his lungs.

“Come on, Mikey, hang in there!” you begged. Oh god, what if he died?!

You could see the headlines now. World Tour Canceled After Bassist’s Hospitalization. You’d wanted more time with Frank….but not like this, damnit!

Since when did your oldest friend’s kid brother do smack?!

I really don’t know anything about them anymore, you realized, tears clouding your vision as you listened to him wheeze. Minutes felt like hours.

“Out of the way!” called an unfamiliar voice, and you gaped as two paramedics dragged a stretcher down the stairs.

“Ma’am, we need to move him,” a uniformed woman barked. “Time is of the essence.”

You let the EMT scoop Mikey up, and load him onto the gurney.

“What did he take?” the second paramedic asked.

“I….I don’t know,” you stammered. “We just found him like this.”

“Ma’am,” the man pressed, “we’re not here to judge anybody. But, any information you have, can help us figure out what antidote he needs…”

“Here,” Frank said. “I found this next to his body.”

He handed the paramedic a needle. Oh, god.

“I see,” the paramedic nodded grimly. “Judith! Get this man two milligrams of naloxone, stat!”

“Is….is he gonna be okay?!” Gerard gasped, tears in his eyes. “That’s my baby brother….”

“We’re going to try our best to save him, sir,” the female paramedic (Judith) promised. “We need to move him to the hospital, as soon as possible.”

“We’re only going to be able to fit two extra people in the ambulance,” the male paramedic warned. “Who’s going?”

“Me,” Gerard said immediately. “He’s my family!”

“Who else?” the paramedic demanded. “We don’t have time to waste.”

Mikey gasped for air on the gurney, his face growing bluer by the minute.

“I’ll go,” Ray decided. “Frank, you stay here with Y/N, okay?”

“O-okay,” Frank stammered. You clung to him,shaking, as you watched the paramedics drag your friend out of the hallway, to the ambulance waiting outside.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“.....Happy New Year!” the oblivious voice of Ryan Seacrest rang out from the television screen, as you walked back into the hotel room, wiping your eyes on your sleeve.

Confetti was falling in Times Square, as the credits rolled. You’d missed the countdown. There had been no toast, no midnight kiss (although perhaps, the latter had been foolish to even hope for.)

“This wasn’t how 2007 was supposed to start,” Frank sobbed, sinking down onto the bed. “Fuck!”

“H-he’s gonna be okay,” you stammered. “The doctors are gonna save his life…”

“You don’t know that!” Frank cried, kicking a bottle of Dom Perignon off the coffee table. It shattered, sending broken glass and alcohol all over the floor.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N,” Frank apologized, kneeling to pick up the shards. “I shouldn’t have done that…”

“Ssh, stop, you’re gonna cut yourself,” you warned, grabbing his hands. “We can clean that up later, okay? I understand that you’re only lashing out, because you’re scared…”

“Of course I’m scared,” Frank wept, burying his head in your shoulder. “That’s one of my best friends.”

“He’s my friend, too,” you said softly, stroking Frank’s hair. “I’m scared, too, but there’s nothing we can do now, but pray.”

You sat down on the bed, and Frank sat with you, still sobbing into your shirt. You were choking back tears yourself.

“I….I didn’t know he was doing that stuff,” you said guiltily. “I’m never around you guys anymore….I….”

“I didn’t realize the extent of the problem, either,” Frank confessed. “And I’m with the kid almost every day. I should’ve noticed, but I was too self absorbed, doing my own dumb shit…”

“Ssh, it’s not your fault, Frankie,” you soothed. “We got him, to the people that can help him. That’s all we can do.”

“It doesn’t feel like enough,” Frank sniffed, still clinging to you tightly.

“No,” you agreed, your heart aching, “it doesn’t.”

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You woke the next morning, to the feeling of warmth against your side. Your eyes fluttered open, and you realized that Frank was sleeping next to you. What?!

Your cheeks reddened as you stared at his sleeping face, so close to your own. “...Frank? Why are you…?”

Reality filtered back into your head, slowly, as you recalled the events of the previous night. Oh god….Mikey!

Was he okay? You still didn’t know. You and Frank had sat beside each other on the hotel room bed, crying, clinging to each other for comfort. You supposed you had fallen asleep like that.

“.....Huh?” Frank groaned sleepily. “Y/N…?”

He shot up, jerking away from you, almost as soon as he realized, that your bodies were touching. “I...I’m sorry!”

“N-no, it’s fine…” you stammered.

“Fuck….I need to check my messages,” Frank realized, groping for his cell phone on the bedside table. He sat up,and put his feet on the floor. “Owww!”

“What’s wrong?” you gasped.

“I just stepped on a shard of the bottle I broke last night...fuck!” Frank swore.

“Oh no,” you winced. “Is it bleeding?”

“No, it’s just cut a little,” Frank shook his head.

“Do you want me to call the front desk,” you offered, “and see if they can bring up some Band-Aids?”

“No, it’s not that serious,” Frank insisted, opening his flip phone. His eyes widened, as he clicked through his inbox. “Oh….oh, thank god…”

“What?” you demanded.

“Ray texted me, around like two in the morning,” Frank explained. “He said Mikey’s gonna make it. The doctors were able to reverse the overdose in time, and he’s gonna make a full recovery.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” you cried, tearing up from sheer relief. You had been so scared, that Ray’s text, would say that Mikey hadn’t survived. He’s gonna be okay. He’s alive.

Frank, however, didn’t share your grateful smile.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I’m sorry that you had to see that, last night,” Frank frowned. “We ruined your New Year’s Eve.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shook your head. “I’m glad I was there, to help you find him. I wouldn’t have wanted you to go through this alone.”

“I hate to ask you for even more help,” Frank grimaced, “but, we need to clean this shit up.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, leaning down to help him pick up the glass shards. “It wouldn’t be fair, to leave it for the hotel staff to pick up.”

“Some bands dig trashing hotel rooms,” Frank sighed, grabbing a towel from the bathroom, to mop up the puddle of champagne. “Not me, though. I feel bad, making a mess, that some housekeeper is gonna have to deal with.”

He’s a kind person, you thought to yourself, as you carefully placed the pieces of bottle into a waste basket. Not everyone would take the time to do this, after the night we had.

“Shit, look at this,” Frank sighed, pointing down at the hardwood floor. “Nobody blew out the stupid scented candle, that Housekeeping lit before we checked in, to make the place smell pretty. Now, there’s dried wax all over the floorboards.”

“You had bigger things to worry about last night,” you reminded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice the candle was still burning, with everything else going on. I would’ve reminded you to put it out.”

“That’s not your job,” Frank said, pulling a guitar pick from his pocket. He tried to use it to scrape some of the wax up, but it didn’t seem to want to budge. “None of this is your job.”

“What do you mean?” you blinked.

“You said last night, that you don’t see us for months at a time,” Frank reasoned, scraping harder with his pick. “And then...last night, you finally see us again, and this happens.”

“You couldn’t have predicted something like that,” you assured him.

“We complicate your life, Y/N,” Frank frowned. “I complicate your life. You don’t need this fucking drama. The best thing I could for you, is probably just leave you alone. Stop inviting you to see us when we’re in town. I’ve grown apart from a lot of friends since I left New Jersey. Why can’t I just let this relationship go, too?”

“I don’t want you to do that!” you protested. “Frank, our friendship is really important to me. I would be miserable if you suddenly stopped inviting me to hang out.”

“I don’t just want to hang out with you,” Frank mumbled. “I want more than that.”

“....Huh?” you cocked your head.

“But it’s not fair, for me to ask you for that,” Frank signed. “Not when I know damn well, that I’m about to spend the majority of 2007, hundreds of miles away from you.”

“Ask me for what?” you demanded. You suddenly remembered the words, he had spoken to you on the balcony, before your night had gone straight to hell.

“I wouldn’t look twice, at any of those girls, if a certain someone, told me, that she wanted me to be hers, and hers alone.”

“Nothing,” Frank murmured, picking fruitlessly at the wax on the floor again. “It’s stupid. Ignore me.”

“I won’t ignore it,” you insisted. “Frank, what were you going to ask me?”

Frank looked at his shoes.

You sat down on the floor next to him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “....Frank?”

“I was going to ask you...to be mine,” Frank confessed.

You gasped, audibly. No way….he really felt the same way about you, that you did about him?!

“But, it’s not right, for me to ask you, to make that commitment to me!” Frank said miserably. “Not when I’m just gonna disappear on you again. And...you saw, last night, what my life has turned into. What my band has turned into. I’m a mess….why would you want to be with someone like me?”

“Frankie, I love you,” you said plainly. Now that you knew he returned your feelings, there was no point in hiding it anymore. “I’ve loved you for years.”

He raised his head to look at you. His hazel eyes, swimming with tears again, stared into yours. “You….you mean that?”

“Yes,” you said emotionally. “I’ve been in love with you for so long….but, you’re a famous rock star now. I’m still just an art school dropout. You can do so much better than me.”

“Funny,” Frank chuckled bitterly, “I was about to say the same thing, about you.”

“Frank, there isn’t anybody better than you,” you sighed, and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into a searing kiss.

His lips met yours, hesitant at first, but then suddenly you were toppling to the floor, as he pressed himself against you, with four years worth of buried desire.

Life was so short. You realized that now.

His hands tangled into your hair as he kissed you over and over. “Be mine,” he gasped, coming up for air. “Please be mine, Y/N….even if it fucks up everything…”

“Frankie, it’s okay,” you assured him, as you gazed up at him tenderly. “I don’t care if you’re gone a hundred nights. You’re worth waiting for. Just promise me, that when you do finally come home, I can….have you.”

“Oh, you can have me any way you want me,” Frank breathed, leaning down to kiss you passionately again. “I won’t touch anyone else while I’m away on tour….nobody else is as beautiful as you. You’re the only one that I want.”

“You’re the only one that I want, too, Frankie,” you promised him, claiming his mouth once again. “I want you every day. Not just when you’re the toast of the town. Not just when times are good. I want to be there with you, through the bad times, too. I want to help you when you’re scared, or even when something fucked up happens, like last night... because I love you. I’ll stay with you, no matter what….even when it’s hard, or it’s wrong, or you’re making mistakes. I don’t care. I just want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you, too, Y/N,” Frank vowed, kissing your eyes, your nose, your mouth. It was like he couldn’t get enough. “You’re the woman I choose….because, hey, there might be lots of women who’d love to be my New Year’s Eve kiss. But, you’re the only woman I know, who would stick by my side, helping me clean up bottles on New Year’s Day.”

#frank iero x reader #frank iero imagine #substance abuse tw

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nursejoyirl · 3 years

Text

Hallelujah (afterlife!Fred x reader)

Context: Your name is Andromeda (Annie) Karkaroff. It’s 6 months after the battle of Hogwarts and Fred’s death. Fred had been your lover and boyfriend for three years at the time of his death, and you’ve been grieving his loss heavily. This one-shot is inspired by Hallelujah, Rufus Wainwright’s cover and some lyrics from Car Seat Headrest songs. This is my first time attempting to write fanfic so please give constructive feedback!! I’m thinking about writing more on this topic if people are interested!

CW: brief mentions of s**cide

Fred’s smile is the same in death as it was in life. He briefly raised his eyebrows, peering through those mischievous brown eyes, hands relaxed into his front pockets. He rocked back and forth between his toes and his heels. Moonlight danced across his skin. He’d never been more beautiful. And he’d never seemed more tragically real.

youtube

You shift in your sleep. It was rare that sleep found you these days, as grief usually took its place. Your eyes open, staring at the ceiling. They watch the fan run in circles for as long as they can, trying to count the number of rotations that pass, as you desperately try to take your mind off what plagues it.

Footsteps fall at the foot of your bed. A jolt of panic runs through you as your eyes flicker downward, your body frozen, not daring to move.

“What are you doing here, Fred?” the whisper escaping your lips hardly giving away the pounding in your chest.

You slowly sit up in bed, exposing your shoulders and chest, your breasts barely covered by a satin nightgown. Your lips press together tightly, and a wave of anguish swells in your chest. Your breath hitches on the inhale. “Fred?” You croak, betraying the impending tears in your eyes.

Fred chuckles, walking towards your side of the bed. “Say it again, love. You know how it gets me going.” He sits down, his weight creating a dip in the mattress that inadvertently moves you closer to him.

“Fred, is that really you? Or is this all in my head?” You desperately whisper.

“Annie,” Fred’s eyes meet yours. “Just because it’s happening in your head doesn’t mean it’s any less real.”

A long silence passes between the two lovers.

Fred’s face turns towards the window. “I miss you, Annie.”

A sob escapes your throat. “Freddie-“ you grab his hand, “Freddie- I- I don’t know what I’m doing here without you. I’m living in hell.” Tears come without hesitation now, the taste of salt stinging in your mouth. “There’s so much pain within me, and I don’t know what to do with it. I’ll ever get better.” You shake your head, using the soft sheet to wipe your face, quickly inhaling some snot. “I thought we’d be together forever, Freddie.”

“We will be together forever,” Freddie turns away from the window, meeting your eyes. A breeze flows through your open window, tousling his fiery hair. “If only in dreams, in your heart, in your memories.” A crooked smile on his lips. A twinkle in his eye. “Death and time don’t make our love any less real.” A beat. “After the Battle…I had plans. To ask you to marry me. I’d been thinking about it for months.” His thumb runs over the back of your hand before letting go, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulls out a box of dusty purple velvet. Your eyes drill holes into it. Fred’s slender fingers pop it open, revealing a pear-shaped ring of Morganite set on a simple gold band.

“What is-” you begin, but Fred cuts you off.

“I did a lot of research. There’s a phrase they say in muggle weddings, ’til death do us part.’ he shakes his head with a scoff.

Your eyebrows narrow, gaze fixed on the ring.

“I hate that saying. Nothing, not even death himself, could stop me from loving you, sweet Ann,” Fred chuckles in disbelief. “You’re my soulmate. And here I am, in death, and my soul cannot tear itself from you.” Fred’s voice breaks as he looks at the ring. “I’ve come here every night to watch you sleep. Hell, what I wouldn’t give to join you under those covers, as a real man.” He sniffles. “A man with a warm body. Who can marry you, and care for you, and give you children, and grow old with you and die with you.”

His eyes meet yours once again. You sit up on your knees and lean forward, reaching out your hands to grab each side of his face. “I want that too, Freddie,” you cry in a volume that threatens to awaken your mother next door. His right hand meets yours that caresses his face. “There’s this…nothingness inside of me. This vast expanse of grief where you used to exist. It’s a massive black hole, it’s swallowing me alive, Fred!” You shake your head. “I don’t know how much longer I can take it here.”

Fred grabs your wrists with his large hands. “You have to forgive yourself, Annie. You have to move on.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” You spit. “When I go to this same room every night, without you. And sleep in the same bed every night, the same fucking bed, with the tear in the duvet and the red stripes,” Your gaze turns to the window, “And that moonlight, it makes me feel like I’m dying. Do you know how many nights I’ve drowned here? How many times have I drowned?” Your voice grows to a desperate cry.

Fred presses his forehead to yours. You inhale his scent and are immediately taken back to the years of memories you made together, from the very first kiss to the very last laugh. It’s all too familiar. Fred’s lips kiss your wet cheek. “I would let myself die and be reborn a thousand times over if it meant I might be with you again,” you breathe.

“But you can’t.” He says tersely, biting back his sadness. It’s not what you want to hear. He tries to pull away, but you grip his wrists.

“Please, Freddie-“

“I’ll always be with you, love. As long as I wander in this godforsaken afterlife, my heart will be set on you. But I can’t move on until I know you have, too.”

“I don’t want to move on, Fred. I can’t do that! You know I can’t! What do I have to do, kill myself?”

“There’s a wonderful life ahead of you, sweet Ann. You’re so young.” Fred breathes.

“So were you!” You exclaim.

“Exactly, Ann! You have what I never will. A life to do as you please. I’m forever stuck in death, a timeless shell of who I used to be, but you have years to experience this life, this…short, fleeting human life.” Fred kisses your hands. You shake your head, refusing to accept his words.

“No, Freddie. Don’t you understand? I will never have a life without you in it. I refuse. It can’t be that way. There’s no point in me going on without you, feeling this way-“

“You HAVE to, Annie.” His voice is stern. He frees his wrists from your grasp and turns away from you.

“Please, don’t do this Fred. Please.”

Fred stands up and paces toward the window. He places his hands on the sill, head hung low, and takes a deep breath. “You’ve loved before me. You can do it after me. There’s someone out there waiting for you, someone who understands, someone who can give you what I can’t.”

“I DON’T WANT THEM!” You roar. You jump out of bed, running towards him, forcing him to turn to you. “I want YOU, Fred. Only YOU! That’s what true love is, Freddie. There’s only one.”

Fred shakes his head. “See that’s where you’re wrong, my love.” His voice softens. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You soften at his touch, leaning into his hand, wishing the moment would last forever. He pulls you into an embrace. Your arms grip his waist, resolving to never let go. There’s so many warm tears coming from your eyes that you can’t see at all.

“You might have been the only one for me, Andromeda Karkaroff. You, beautiful, sweet, courageous thing.” He kisses the top of your head with a sob, his tears landing on your scalp. “But I know, I know, that I am not the only one for you.”

His words don’t even register with you. “I love you, Fred. I love you, I love you, I love you,” you declare.

He strokes his hand down your hair one last time, his fingers twirling the ends around themselves. “And you know I love you too, Annie. I always, always will.”

And then he’s gone. Your arms go limp around nothing. You frantically glance around the room, desperately looking for him, but it’s as you feared- he is as gone now as he ever was.

But then your eyes land on your bed, where sits a small box with an impossibly real ring, reflecting the moonlight in perfect sparkles.

You sit down on the bed, taking the box in your hand. You slide the ring out, carefully examining it, rolling it between your fingers. Finally, you place it on your left ring finger. It’s a perfect fit. It’s real. He had been real.

You remain fixated on the ring and decide you’ll never take it off. You might live the rest of this life against your will, but you would never stop loving Fred.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #fred weasley fanfiction #weasley twins #george weasley #george weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley one shot #harry potter one shot #harry potter one shots #nursejoyhp

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actualfarless · 3 years

Text

Confessions

Unknown to you, your girlfriend is part of a secret organization sworn to stopping an ancient evil. Unknown to her, you are that ancient evil.

Story below or read on Wattpad

“So, I have something to tell you.”

Rylie stared at me with her baby blue eyes from over the top of her knees, clad in her fluffy unicorn pajamas. Biting her lip, she wrapped her arms around her legs, doing her best to look at innocent as possible. It was the same as when she told me she loved me for the first time. Same as when she told me about her parents. Same as any serious conversation.

I smiled the best reassuring smile I could. “Yes, Missus Thelpty?”

“Thelpty-Grey. Future Thelpty-Grey,” Rylie corrected with a grin. She played with her wavy brown hair, not so subtly flashing her tattoo. She always lied about the heptagram on her wrist and I never pushed. Despite how much she pretended, Rylie never liked talking about herself. She would let me know when she was ready. Probably curled up on the couch in unicorn pajamas, staring at me with innocent blue eyes.

“Yes, Missus Future Thelpty-Grey?”

“Kay, so, you know how I, like, love those weirdass horror-scifi books?”

“Which ones?” I teased. I knew which ones. I first met her in the bookstore when she was buried in them. The local shop received a collection of the old ones, and she bought all of them. Every copy, even multiple versions of the same ones. ‘In case there was a misprint,’ she later told me. The author was prolific. For a normal person, it would have been an extraordinary purchase.

But that was Rylie. She won the lottery twice and was set for life.

The horror-scifi clashed with the fluffy unicorn pajamas, but that was Rylie. Half magical horse, half spooky space thing, entirely lovable. I guess that was part of why I liked her so much. She knew what it was like to live with a split life.

“The ones by Crofte.” Rylie’s smile didn’t slip, but her tone shifted. She looked past me, taking a deep breath. This was way more intense than the first ‘I love you.’

Not as intense as her proposal.

“Ah, yes. The spooky ones.”

“The spooky ones,” Rylie agreed. “Well, I’m part of a group. The Val Crofte Literature Club.”

I was well aware of the VCLC. Rylie received a box filled with new books from them every month, marked by seven circles. She told me they represented the seven classical planets in Crofte’s work. Rylie talked about them a lot. For Crofte-heads, a name Rylie used to refer to the group once, which I would never let her forget, the classical planets were the key to understanding the meta-story.

It also had something to do with alchemy. I had a hard time getting into them. They hurt my brain. I had no clue how one man wrote so much.

“Yeah, your nerd group.”

“They’re not nerds! Well, not all of them.” Rylie stretched, again flashing the heptagram. “It’s not just about the books. It’s about the meta-story. We, uh… we…”

Rylie struggled to get the words out. A nervous blush spread across her face.

I took her hand, careful to avoid the tattoo on her wrist. I never told her, since it was impossible to explain, but the design was unpleasant. Every time I touched it, even the slightest brush, it burned. Like a hot stove, but through my whole body and prickly. “It’s okay, Rylie. You can just admit to being a nerd. We’re engaged. I know this now.”

“There’s more to it, Aaron.” Rylie bit her lip, still uncertain. Then, a serious expression suddenly took her face. Not the way the faceless steal faces in the Crofte books. She simply decided to be straightforward. “The VCLC believes that the books aren’t just stories.”

“They’re damn good ones!”

Rylie didn’t laugh. That hurt a little. “They - we believe that Val Crofte is trying to warn us about creatures. Monsters. Eldritch beings.”

My heart thumped. Did she know?

“Val Crofte isn’t one person. The members of the VCLC embed codes in the books whenever we learn something new. Some of us are trained to hunt these things.” Rylie paused, looking sadly at her hand which I no longer held. I hadn’t realized I’d been retreating. But it was starting to make sense now. “Not me, of course. I’m a researcher for the VCLC. I study the codes, sort out the truth from fiction, then pass it along to the hunters. They’re usually about lesser beings. Mimics. Vampires. That sort of stuff.”

A weight was lifted off my chest.

“Some of them are about great ones.”

And put right back on.

“The VCLC has had a few names. We were inspired by Lovecraft. The name too.” Rylie’s excitedness took over as she continued her tale. She stood, pacing in front of the couch now. My eyes were focused on the seven-pointed star on her wrist. How it moved with the way her hands tensed. “There’s been so many stories, Aaron. We’re dedicated to stopping evil, great and small. And now… now there’s rumours, Aaron. Rumors of something big. The kind of monster that could destroy the world.”

Rylie paused, impressing the dramatic weight of this realization with her blue eyes and gestures. “A real Lovecraftian nightmare, Aaron.”

I couldn’t hold it back anymore. “Is that tattoo VCLC?”

Rylie looked shocked, as though pulled from a dream. She held her wrist out to me. “This? Yeah. Ish. The members of VCLC get a tattoo on their wrist so we can recognize each other. But it’s also a sigil of protection. In Crofte’s books, it’s a symbol of power. It shows control over all of the elements. And all of the planets. The classical planets. They’re-”

“The ones that count,” I finished. That was something Rylie said a lot. It was a popular phrase among the books’ protagonists.

With a laugh, Rylie sat down next to me, snuggling close and wrapping her arms around me. “They are actually good books too. I was a fan of Val Crofte before I even knew about the VCLC. And not all of our members are full members. Some of them are just fans. You should give them a shot.”

“I will,” I lied. At least now I knew why the books hurt to read. It wasn’t just poor worldbuilding.

“You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?” Rylie asked, staring with her innocent blue eyes. Eyes that concealed secrets all too well. I gave her my best reassuring grin.

“No, Rylie, I don’t. I love you. I know you’re telling the truth.” I sighed. It was my turn to share. “In another life, I was called Thorn. Thorn A. Laytep.”

I took a deep breath. In a thousand lifetimes, I never told anyone this secret. But it was time.

“Before then, I was known as Nyarlathotep.”

<<>>

“Before then,” Aaron said slowly. His lips were pulled tight, replacing his usual smile with something stern. He was like that sometimes. Aaron liked to joke, to laugh, play. He brought out my childish side. That was what I loved about him. Then, rarely, he was serious. I loved that too. I could tell him things - important things - and he’d meet me with the same sincerity. “I was known as Nyarlathotep.”

My heart thumped. The name alone made my tongue numb and he said it with ease.

I laughed, pulling him tighter. He got me. “Nice.”

“I’m not joking, Rylie,” Aaron said. “I am… I was Nyarlathotep.”

“I know.”

Aaron stopped fiddling with the drawstring on his sweatpants. I tried many times to get him better sleepwear, even getting him more boyish pajamas, since he didn’t like my totally cool unicorns. He never wore them. I wasn’t upset, though. Aaron liked what Aaron liked. I loved that about him.

Aaron liked grey sweatpants and octopus shirts. “You know?”

“Well, like, I didn’t til you told me. But I know you’re not joking, Aaron.” Aaron Thelpty. Oh my god, I was such a dumbass. Seven years of piecing together puzzles for the VCLC and I never cracked the one that kissed me awake every day for the last three. I laughed again. “You really like anagrams.”

Aaron smiled. He had a nice smile. I loved that about him too. “That I do, Missus Future Thelpty-Grey.”

My heart hurt again as the feeling of guilt shot through me. I’d been with Aaron for so long now. We met when I was doing research on a local cult for one of our hunters and I just felt pulled to him. The same way Argent was pulled to the moon when she first arrived on earth. A connection that transcended the physical form and joined them in the spirit. With that first connection, Argent was soulbound to her element.

They were really good books. I wished Aaron would actually read them.

“If there is a future Missus Thelpty,” Aaron said quietly. His brown eyes were wet and he bowed his shaved head. In my initiation to the VCLC, they asked me to read - not recite, they were clear about that - read some magic text. My eyes burned. My blood boiled. It felt like my body was trying to tear itself apart from the inside out.

They later explained that the test was to see if I had any latent magic ability. I didn’t. But I still wanted to join the VCLC and contribute to the metanarrative. So they let me be a researcher.

Aaron’s sad look hurt worse.

“You said you were Nyarlathotep-” a figurative bee stung my literal tongue - “Gnarly-thep in another life. What does that mean?”

Aaron sighed again, moving away from me.

“I was beaten. A group of kids figured out how to stop me, at least for a little bit, and Nyarlathotep was defeated. Well, banished,” Aaron said sheepishly, “for a thousand years. Then he- I came back as Thorn. Thorn was angry. He wanted to get revenge on the kids who beat him before, but they were gone. So he lashed out.”

“Like Aurum,” I whispered.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You haven’t met him yet,” I told Aaron excitedly. “He’s Argent’s… He’s related to Argent, soulbound to the sun. He’s all about the heart and lavish things, but he has, like, a bit of an anger issue.”

“Yeah,” Aaron said with a soft laugh, watching me walk around our living room. “Like Aurum.”

I hadn’t realized I was pacing. Val Crofte’s books got me so excited. It was definitely the excellent world building. I carefully readjusted the painting of the eclipse I had commissioned and sat back down next to Aaron. “Sorry, go on.”

“I… We? Thorn realized he wasn’t as strong as Nyarlathotep. He was a little superhuman but he wasn’t a powerful space being. He was just a strong man with a little bit of magic.” Aaron paused, reluctant to finish his story. I encouraged him with the sweetest look I could muster. He told me once that he could never resist my smile. I loved that about him. I didn’t tell him I had the same problem. “Thorn got himself in some trouble in the Americas. He didn’t live past the twenties.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Aaron quickly said. “I don’t consider Thorn part of me. I don’t even consider Nyarlathotep part of me. I have memories of them. Vague memories. But I don’t have any powers. I definitely am not an eldritch monster. At least not any more. Whatever I used to be, I’m not anymore.”

I searched his face, looking for any sign that he was lying. The VCLC texts warned that Nyarla… Aaron’s alter-ego a master of deceit. Supposedly, he delighted in pain and trickery. But those were just stories shared by strangers. Research from unconfirmed sources. Some members claimed that garlic could outright kill a vampire, but it rarely did more than give them a stomach ache.

The VCLC wasn’t always right. They were just a bunch of nerd books.

“Aaron Thelpty,” I said, tracing the Sigil of Seven on my wrist. It was meant for protection from physical and spiritual harm. But I traced it whenever I needed to feel brave. “There are thousands of stars in the sky. There are hundreds of worlds. They all have their theories. Their rules. But what they think doesn’t matter. What they say doesn’t matter. Because, despite the trillions of lives on those worlds and between those stars, only one matters to me. You. We are soulbound. There is nothing that can break that bond. I’m here for you, Aaron. I’m here for you.”

Aaron gave me the most confused stare I’d ever seen from a thousand-year-old being. “What?”

“It’s from the books. It’s what Luna tells Argent in The Rise of Neptune. It means, I love you. I don’t care about your past. I don’t care what the VCLC says about you or your followers.” I took Aaron’s hand, squeezing gently, and looked him straight in the eyes. His soft brown eyes welled with tears. Not the painful ones that made me want to peel my skin, but the ones that made me want to wrap him in my arms and kiss him.

“I love you, Mister Future Thelpty-Grey.”

#short story #this one is also from reddit #from 2019 #its the one folk liked the best so i wrote a second part #the reddit link is somewhere but i'm too lazy to find it

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snarkwrites · 4 years

Text

sprung spring | found you | jacob black [m]

PROMPTS USED:

“You’re kinda small. It’s cute.” + Height Difference Kisses Where One Person Has To Bend Down And The Other Is On Their Tippy Toes + Suck + Being dared to kiss + against a wall/door -

NOTES:

Hey, look... Years ago, I actually STARTED writing in the Twilight fandom. I feel like things have come full circle now, kinda? Idk.. Anyway, just wanted everyone to know that this takes place AFTER the series. Jacob is grown up here. So is the OC omega/imprint. If people bother me enough I miiight be tempted to sit down and come up with an actual story for these two, idek... Enjoy the filth. I blame the recent announcement of the Midnight Sun movie / book... Anyway, yeah.

Oh yeah and just so you know... I kinda took imprinting and alpha x omega bonds and mashed them together. So the oc here is not only Jacob’s imprint but she is also his omega.

PAIRING:

Jacob Black [ alpha ] x ofc, Lily [ omega ]

WARNINGS:

Uhh... the usual stuff that goes with a/o.. Meeting a guy at a bar and hooking up. Protected sex, for once -yeah, that’s right, you heard it here guys and dolls, Ash FINALLY remembered that condoms exist.. Biting.

Writer does NOT agree or disagree with hooking up casually. Writer says to make up your own mind about these things. Alcohol warning, btw.

TAGGING:

@micolegg - just because | @kyleoreillysknee - they’re the only person on my Twilight tag list. If you want to be on any of my taglists, once again, go [here] otherwise, you will not be getting tagged.

( nobody @ me. I had to use this gif. I had to. )

“Okay, if you’re really over the jerk, I dare you to kiss the next guy who walks through the door.”

Lily scoffed at her best friend’s dare and rolled her eyes, picking at her nails. “No, I believe I’ll pass. Knowing my craptastic luck, it’ll be one of those creepy Cullens or Nelson’s ass.”

Cassandra’s gaze was fixed intently on the doors that lead into the crowded sports bar and she let out a low whistle. “I mean, if you wanna pass on that, by all means.” she gestured to where Jacob Black stood, tugging off a weathered brown leather jacket to toss at an empty booth. She nudged Lily again so that she’d look up and see the man for herself.

Lily swore sharply and finally tore her gaze off of her phone. “What the hell--” her sentence died on her lips and she swallowed down a baseball sized lump in her throat, blinking. Raising a hand to rub her eyes when blinking didn’t just make him disappear.

“Jacob?” her voice came almost whisper quiet, eyes fixed on him intently. She shook her head, it had to be some kind of hallucination. Jacob had been in Canada since a few weeks before Bella’s wedding. And every letter he sent home to Billy suggested that Canada is where he intended to stay. Or that’s the last thing her father told her when she bothered to ask last month.

So why come back now, she found herself wondering. She didn’t even realize that she’d started to move towards him until she bumped into Jessica’s back, muttering a distracted and quick apology, shoving past her until she caught up to Jacob Black.

Jacob was distracted; entranced by the warm and heavy sweetness of the vanilla scent he’d followed into the bar. Brown eyes darted around and his fists clenched at his sides as he tried to keep himself pulled together. For a split second, he thought he caught sight of Lily, an old neighbor, but when he tried to focus, see if it was really her, she was gone.

“I’m here, might as well grab a drink.” Jacob mused to himself as he glanced around again, turning and preparing to walk back to the booth he’d left his jacket in. The scent of vanilla permeated the air around him heavily and he felt his skin tightening, his blood almost boiling. His vision started to tunnel and when he turned around fully, he found himself body to body with Lily.

“Jacob, hi.” Lily bit her lip and stared up at him, reaching up to toy with the end of soft long jet black locks. He let his hair grow back, Lily thought to herself distractedly, thank God. She quickly snatched back her hand when she realized what she’d done.

Her feet felt rooted to the floor. Why wasn’t she moving?

She wasn’t the same stammering little mess she’d been back then, damn it. Suddenly, Cassandra’s dare came rushing back and Lily took a deep breath, her eyes locking intently on kissable lips.

“Fuck it. Yolo.” Lily muttered quietly, molding herself against Jacob, raising to tippy toe, tugging his mouth closer to her own as he bent down to make up for the difference in height. Rough hands dug into her lower back, lifting her off the floor slightly as his mouth crashed against her mouth. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging at it so that the kiss deepened and his hand moved up her back, fingers catching in a long jet black braid, raking through it until it tumbled loose down her back. His tongue trailed over the outline of her lips and when she rubbed against him just a little, he groaned, the taste of rum filling his mouth as he deepened the kiss to a point where he knew she had to be getting dizzy and he could feel their breathing sync up, almost as if they were breathing for each other.

The kiss broke, the pair springing apart as Lily took a few deep breaths and raised her hand, smoothing it over her hair, pushing shaggy bangs out of her eyes. Jacob’s mouth opened and closed and his hand raised, dragging through his hair. All he could do was stare at her as everything he’d seen and the scent of her bombarded his brain and dominated every single part of his thoughts. He chuckled, rubbing his chin. “Hi, Lily. So, uh… is this how you greet everyone?”

“No, no.” the word tumbled out, making him laugh, making him flash her that bright and cocky grin of his. When she blurted out what transpired before he walked in, she wanted to kick herself, adding quickly to the end of her explanation, “But I wasn’t gonna do it til Cassandra got me to look up and I saw you walk in. Shit. Fuck. You know what? I’m gonna take this as my cue and go.”

Lily turned abruptly, already halfway back across the bar by the time Jacob processed what she’d basically just admitted. He was on his feet again, shoving through the crowd, deep brown eyes darting around all over as his nose honed in on the scent of her. He found her easily, sitting in the back in a booth with a group of two or three other girls he remembered from La Push High.

He cleared his throat and the girls all surrounding his imprint shared a look and stood abruptly after doing so, making a hasty retreat.

Lily lightly beat her head against the tabletop. “I swear to God, I just want to disappear right now, Cass. He has to think I’m still a huge dork.”

“Actually, no.” Jacob spoke up as he slid into the booth bench beside her, an arm going around the back of it.

Lily raised her head reluctantly, her cheeks almost an angry red as she stared at him a few seconds. That intense heat was lingering in the air all over again and the spicy scent of him pierced her nostrils as she felt her skin tightening all over again.

The urge to straddle his lap took over before she could stop it and she didn’t even realize that every single dirty little thing on her mind was being broadcast directly to his until he leaned in close and chuckled against the shell of her ear, “Are you okay? You look like you’re burning up right now.”

“I,uhh.”

It clicked into place what was happening and she crossed her legs, clenching them tight beneath the table. Oh naturally, he’s my Alpha and I make an entire ass of myself…

Jacob’s gaze shifted to her hands and the way they were almost white knuckle, her palms flat against the wooden tabletop. It happened again, just like earlier when she’d kissed him. Every single noisy thought flooded his brain and the animal side kicked into overdrive.

Yeah, he knew how imprinting worked but this felt… Different. A thousand times more intense. It was imprinting and something different… Something so much more than that. This primal urge to get her alone and lay claim.

When it hit him, his jaw dropped and for a few seconds, he sat there in a daze, staring straight ahead.

Lily toyed with the wrapping to the straw in her mixed drink after noisily slurping down the last of it and taking a few labored breaths. The way he looked at her just now was… Deeper than any look he’d given her before.

To be fair, she found herself thinking with mild annoyance, before it was all about Bella.

“Do you dance, Lily?” Jacob leaned in and muttered the question against the shell of her ear as someone put the Halsey version of I Walk The Line on to play in the music box at the front of the bar. He needed her closer. He needed to know she was okay. He needed to feel her body molded against his again because only then could he feel centered.

“Nobody dances in here, Jake.”

“There’s a first time for everything, Lil. C’mon. Unless you’re too tipsy?” he teased her gently, his eyes fixing on the pyramid of shot glasses in front of where she sat and the two empty glasses that contained mixed drinks.

This got his inebriated imprint slash omega on her feet. Between the alcohol in her system and the effects of what he suspected to be her heat setting in, she swayed a good bit. Jacob stood too and pulled her completely against him, his hands drifting down and gripping her ass to hold her in place. Lily looked up, staring deep into dark brown eyes. “I’m not too tipsy for anything, Jacob. I’ll… I’ll have you know, I-I’m perfectly sober right now.” she nuzzled her face against his shirt as soon as she dropped her gaze again and Jacob barely contained the low growl that arose from deep in his chest. His hands splayed across both sides of her ass, fingertips digging in just a little as his nose buried in the crown of her hair and he breathed in the scent of his mate as deep as he possibly could. After a few seconds, he gave a quiet laugh at her words.

“Right.” Jacob continued to snicker quietly to himself, a fond smile tugging his mouth upward as he fixed his gaze on her intently.

Lily’s head raised and she poked out her tongue at him, prompting him to snicker about it.

“What’s so funny, Jake?”

… God, is she ever not going to get me hard or distract the living hell out of me?. This is going to take a lot of getting used to, but it’s fine. It’s perfect, actually.. the thought came and went and rather than be dumb and let it slip out, he instead went with, “You’re kinda small. It’s cute,actually.”

“Oh hahahaha. Says the guy who reached man size in what? Seventh grade?” Lily teased gently, trying hard not to think about just how good it felt to be pressed against him like this, but just how many layers of clothing were still between them and how badly she wanted those gone.

“Ninth, actually. And I was not man sized.” Jacob chuckled, a soft gaze down at her. There it was at last, that truly lightweight and give no fucks feeling that came with the imprint bond.

“Y-you are.” Lily muttered, stumbling over the words lightly. With each little step they took, she found herself rubbed right against him and the slick coursed down her inner thighs, coating them. “Y-you were more of a man t-than any of t-those other s-shitheads at our school.”

… I seriously just said that… Ugh, can someone just strike me mute? Before I totally fuck up?... the thought came floating into her mind and Lily muttered a quick apology, giving him a little dirty look when he managed to mis step and stepped on her toes.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Jacob apologized, laughing. He dipped her down and as she came back up, their faces bumped against each other. Just the feel of her lips against his own had him struggling to keep the animal within at bay.

Lily’s tongue danced over the outline of his lips and his grip on her body tightened as he hauled her up fully, pressing into her so much that she had to lean back, her back meeting the edge of the booth with a soft smack. “It’s...it’s okay.” Lily managed to gasp out between sloppy and rough kisses that seemed to dominate her mouth and set her pulse racing. A throat clearing nearby had the two springing apart momentarily and it served to put the brakes on for the two momentarily.

“You wanna get outta here, Lily?” Jacob pressed into her heavily, his hands on her hips, his mouth next to her ear.

… isn’t this a little fast?...

… better too fast than never, besides… haven’t I waited long enough?... his mind was at war with itself and the stronger side, the animal side, that was winning.

Lily found herself staring deep into dark brown eyes and getting lost, just like she used to when they were kids. After a few seconds, it occurred to her that he’d said something and she managed to respond, “Oh god, yeah. Take me home, Jake.” as she slipped her tongue past his lips all over again, her hands drifting down, tugging almost impatiently at the waistband of his jeans.

Jacob bent at the waist, scooping her up, making quick strides towards the doors of the little sports bar. Once they were outside in the chilled night air, he sat her down on the back of his motorcycle, getting on in front.

“Hold on tight.”

Lily’s arms slipped around his waist and she pressed herself into him as the motorcycle’s powerful engine roared to life, the motorcycle taking off at a decent speed towards the reservation.

“Your place or mine?” Lily muttered quietly next to his ear as she grazed her lips against. Jacob’s breath caught for a second and he chuckled quietly, shrugging. Lily continued, “Because I’m the only one staying at my place… No interruptions.” her lips dancing right over the rapid pulse in his neck. Jacob bucked a little, feeling himself getting harder and harder.

The reservation was coming into view and he drove down the dirt road they both lived on, parking his motorcycle beneath the carport next to the little red cabin she lived in.

Getting off the motorcycle, he scooped her up in his arms again, quick strides up the porch steps, Lily digging around for her house key after climbing out of his arms, reaching out to unlock the door as Jacob lightly kicked it open with his foot, stepping inside the darkened house as he shut the door behind them and locked it.

Her back pressed against the wooden door with a soft smack and Jacob’s hands were all over her. Her mouth latched onto his neck and chest, anywhere she could reach and when she rose to tiptoe all over again, Jacob chuckled and slid her up his body to sit her down on top of her dining table, his mouth latching onto her mouth and then dancing down her neck.

As soon as he found the spot where her scent glands were, he could feel the pierce of his fangs at his gums. Lily was rubbing herself against him, her legs wrapped around him, her hands moving down between them and then her fingertips catching in the hem of his tee shirt, starting to pull it upward. The warmth of his breath against her neck felt so fucking good. She gasped and let her head fall to the opposite side, giving his mouth better access.

Jacob pulled away a second or two, eyeing her as she continued to rub against him, shaky fingers catching on the button to his jeans and pulling it free, then lingering down, lowering his zipper slowly. In a daze, he kicked his jeans and underwear free when they pooled at his ankles, a low and primal growl filling the air as his eyes settled on his mate all over again, his tongue trailing slowly over his lips as he gazed down at her.

“Aren’t you going to do it?” Lily’s voice was a breathy drawl as her fingertips trailed up and down his bare chest and she fixed her eyes on him almost expectantly. She rubbed herself against him with more urgency, her whimpers and moans echoing off the walls of the dining room. Jacob licked his lips and smirking, he lowered his mouth back down to her neck, his teeth scraping against scent glands again.

“You’re sure, right?” his voice came out deeper, sending a jolt racing through her and another wave of slick coating the insides of her thighs. Lily gazed up at him, biting her lip. “I asked for it, didn’t I, Jake?”

“Yeah, but..” he trailed off, unable to finish his words because she took his face in her hands, scooting herself closer to the edge of the table, rubbing against him all over again, more urgently. Jacob’s hand went down to the jagged hem of her crop top, tugging it up and over her head, letting it settle on the table top behind her. He gave a low growl as his eyes roamed over her, his mouth almost watering at the way her scent intensified. Wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, he leaned in again, reaching around, the quiet tear of satin as her bra was torn away breaking the semi-silence between the two as he tugged it free from her body next. And then, he was leaning in, ghosting his mouth down the side of her neck, his tongue trailing over soft skin boldly, his lips latching onto the patch of skin her scent glands lingered beneath.

This time when he felt his fangs starting to prick through and push to the surface, he didn’t bother fighting it. Instead, he sank his teeth into the sac just below the surface of the patch of skin. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she rocked herself against him, legs clenching his hips tight as she gasped. “Oh, oh wow..” the rush of the bond took over, leaving her to lean into him heavily, clinging to his body. Jacob leaned right back against her heavily, chuckling as he muttered the same against her skin.

The wooden tabletop was cool against her back as she wound up flat against it, Jacob pinning both her hands at either side of her head, his mouth crashing against hers again, muttering against her lips, “Just a second… stay right there.” and raising up, letting go of her hands, bending to pick his jeans off the floor, rifling through the pockets. He tore open the condom wrapper with his teeth, sliding the condom down over his cock before turning back around to face her, stepping back between her legs as he leaned down, his hips pressing into her lower body, his mouth roaming over her neck, littering soft skin with bites and suck marks as he groaned and rutted himself into her, the tip of his cock teasing between her folds and making her whimper out loud, rubbing herself right back against him. As his cock sank deep into her heat, she got louder, Jacob chuckling against her mouth as he pressed into her, going still to let her get used to his size as the knot began to form.

“I think I’m okay.” Lily managed to gasp, rocking her hips against him urgently. Jacob sank his cock in a little deeper, a quiet growl escaping into the kiss as he pulled his mouth away, staring down at her. “You’re sure?”

Lily gritted her teeth as she felt him burying his cock in even deeper. She felt like she was being split in two, stretched and overfilled. Her nails dug into his shoulder and she gasped as she started to really get used to the way he felt buried inside her, trying to rock her hips against him all over again. “Yeah, yeah. Fuck.” she moaned out, “so big.”

“I’m not hurting you, right?”

“No, fuck no. Feels so..” Lily met the deep and steady drives he made into her tight and dripping cunt with her own thrusts eagerly, “So good. Fuck.”

Jacob slowed to an almost stop, she was so tight around him, it felt too damn good. His fingers dug into her hips and he growled quietly as he slammed her up and down his massive cock, panting next to her ear in quiet and filthy growls, “You’re so tight, fuck. Feels so good to bury my cock in you.”

Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she moaned louder and louder, the table creaking quietly beneath them and making them both pause and eye the table, then each other. “Maybe we should move this to the couch.” Lily muttered, giving a soft laugh as she caught her breath for a few seconds. Jacob scooped her off the tabletop and went to step out of the dining room and into the living room. Lily’s back met the wall as Jacob’s mouth buried in hers all over again and he started to fuck into her slowly, making her moan and whimper and bite down on his neck as she begged for more. “On second thought, this… Oh fuck it feels so good, baby. So good. Don’t stop.”

Jacob slipped her legs over his forearms and started to fuck into her harder and faster, feeling her clench around his cock as he slammed into her throbbing G spot again and again. Her nails danced down his back and from the way her mouth kept latching onto his neck, he had no doubt in his mind that tomorrow, he would not be hiding the marks left behind. Then again, neither would she, because he’d definitely left marks of his own. He felt her tense up and chuckling into her mouth he asked quietly, “Are you getting closer, baby girl?”

“So close. So close.” Lily gasped into his lips as he continued to pump in and out of her, the sound of their sloppy kisses and quiet moans and growls breaking any silence in the room. “C’mon, Lily. Let go.” Jacob coaxed as he felt himself getting closer too. “Wanna feel you, princess.”

“ -oh fuck. Oh yeah, that’s it.” Lily moaned as he slammed against her g spot all over again, and she felt her orgasm shatter through. Her walls clenched his cock and Jacob’s thrusts became erratic, skin smacking loudly against skin as he fucked them through their orgasm, holding her against him and kissing her all over the face as they both tried to catch their breath. He nipped at her ear and muttered quietly, “Are you okay?”

“If you’re going to carry me around a little while, yeah.” Lily teased gently, catching the corner of his mouth with her own as their stomachs both growled noisily. “But I am kinda hungry…”

“Me too.” Jacob chuckled against her mouth, his forehead pressed against hers as he kissed her again, tender and deep.

#jacob black fanfiction #jacob black fanfic #jacob black imagine jacob black imagines #jacob black oneshot #jacob black fic #//fourseasonsofsm*tselfchallenge #// tw: s*xual content #// tw : a/o dynamics #// no one under 18+#// tw : alcohol mention

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unchartedterritoria · 4 years

Text

Dangerous (Sam Drake x OC) - Chapter 31

NEW CHAPTER!!

Previous Chapters:

Chapter 1 * Chapter 2 * Chapter 3 * Chapter 4 * Chapter 5* Chapter 6* Chapter 7 * Chapter 8 * Chapter 9 * Chapter 10 * Chapter 11 * Chapter 12 * Chapter 13 * Chapter 14 * Chapter 15 * Chapter 16 * Chapter 17 * Chapter 18 * Chapter 19 * Chapter 20 * Chapter 21 * Chapter 22 * Chapter 23* Chapter 24 * Chapter 25 * Chapter 26 * Chapter 27 * Chapter 28 * Chapter 29 * Chapter 30

As always, you can read the story thus far on A03 HERE

Tags: @jodiereedus22, @shambhalala, @missdictatorme @bechobbi @the-winchesterboys

Reviews and comments are always appreciated!

The first sign of dawn began to show itself on the open ocean of the Gulf. Like a sleeping eye tentatively raising its lid, a small hint of light shown in the east. A subtle blue pushing its way through the dark night. Lighter colors began to follow suit, an array of purples, pinks, and oranges that looked like sand art spread across the sky. Each new tone emerging quicker and transforming to another before the edge of the bright sun shone on the horizon.

It was breathtaking, and at that moment, Sam Drake didn't give two shits about it.

His mind was focused on revenge and redemption. He had made three promises. He had made a promise to Victor he was going to keep Faith safe. He failed. He made a promise to Faith; he would help her find the answers she wanted. He failed. Lastly, he had made a promise to himself that he wouldn't get attached to Faith, to the situation. Once again, he had failed. An angry red mist had settled over his thoughts, his plan to just storm through the front of the fort, guns blazing—a hail of bullets taking out everything and everyone in his path.

“There she is,” The gravel of Sully's voice over the growl of the plane engines pulled Sam back to reality.

Sam's eyes focused on the discolored blotch in the distance. A brick blob floating in the vast blue ocean. As they approached, it began to take shape, a massive brick hexagon, encircled by a moat and a ring of land that looked to serve as a port for ferries, seaplanes, and a walking trail for tourists. A cistern and weathered pikes, remnants of an old jetty no doubt, sat in the water along two sides of the path.

"You sure this is how you wanna go in, kid?"

Sam's vision remained unwavering on the approaching building.

"Just get me down to that dock," Sam answered, his voice almost zen-like.

The landing gear of the plane cut quietly through the crystal water as Sully brought the plane down gently with an experienced hand. Sam was up and out of his seat in an instant.

“How long you think we got til Jasper's guys get here?” Sam asked, checking the holster at the small of his back he slipped his 9MM in, securing it with a snap.

"Couple hours, if we're lucky. It's a lot of island to search, and he'll want them to get an early start. I'll monitor the chatter, update you if I hear anything," Sully said, driving the plane up to the dock. Sam nodded absently in agreement.

A small scrap of land a thousand meters from the fort stood its old, yet still maintained, lighthouse. Though even cared for, evidence by new dock planks and fresh paint, the island itself was overgrown thick with lush plant life. Mangroves and manchineel grew high and wide, obscuring whatever paths lay on the ground.

“Put the plane near the lighthouse, I'll let you know when we're coming out,” Sam said, taking his favorite gun in hand. He popped the door of the plane open.

“Wait, wait, wait a minute,” Sully pivoted in the worn vinyl seat.

“What?”

"That's all you're taking with you? You got all that firepower, and you're just gonna bring in those two pistols?" Victor jutted his chin towards the gun in Sam's hand.

“With any luck, that's all I'll need,” Sam let sardonic grin pull at the corner of his mouth.

“Since when have you had luck?” Sully snorted, making Sam frown momentarily.

“That's why I got Plan B.”

“And what's Plan B?” Sully asked, chucking a small walkie-talkie to Sam. He clipped it to his back pocket.

“Just trust me.”

Ready.

Sam clenched his jaw, a determined sigh jetting through his nostrils.

"I'm gonna make this right, Victor," Sam said, a quiet declaration to both Sullivan and himself.

“I know you will.”

Sam jumped from the plane down onto the dock below him.

"Just be careful of the crocodile," Victor added.

Sam's nose wrinkled.

“Crocodile?”

"Go," Sully commanded, revving the plane's motors, signal that any further discussion of this warning was over. Sam, albeit a little confused, slammed the metal door on the plane shut, giving the old girl a couple pats for good luck.

Alright, Drake, let's go get our girl. The last of the sentence in his head formed spontaneously. He wanted it to be right, part of him did, but the truth of the matter hit him like a mule kick to the gut. It was wrong. With what he had done, she would never be his. There could be no forgiveness on her part or even to himself. He was right; this was a mission of redemption, but with it would follow a hollow ending. Though he could make the world safe for Faith again, he could never set it right for her and give back what he had taken. His existence was like an unknown toxin in her life, corrupting each person around her he touched like a cancer, growing, consuming all grace. If he could take it, purge it from her system, purge him completely from her life. If he set this right and disappeared, it could finally be a cure where she could start over. She deserved that.

The building before him was old, massive, and intimidating, not to mention giving a whole new meaning to the phrase, 'middle of nowhere.' The delicate thwack of the water's waves mixing with the hissing winds through the giant archways echoed; A foreboding acoustic mix that did nothing but add to the feeling of intimidation creeping up Sam's back.

So, to fight it off, he did the only thing he knew to do. Sam Drake shook a smoke from his pack, lit it with a quick flip of his lighter, cocked his gun, and started walking forward.

He hiked over the packed gravel bridge that spanned the width of the fortresses moat, a large ring of water clear enough to call its identity as a moat into question.

The day's heat and humidity had already started to rise. He felt a damp film of cool sweat tickle his lower back as he entered the fort, the masonry retaining its coolness of the night. Sam passed in front of the empty guard station and a small sunken room off the central passage that acted as a gift shop. He reached the end of the main entrance, the concrete parting wide and grand to usher Sam into the fort's sprawling courtyard.

Scrub grass crawled over the sandy surface, yellowing or balding patches pockmarking the ground's attempt at healthy green growth. Ruins of red brick walls clawed up through the grass, trying to give shape to what was once some military building. The occasional palm tree swaying to its own music. It was a vast open space that had been stripped of anything useful to society over time, leaving the big building feeling naked and sad.

Sam stood quietly while he scanned the courtyard for any sign of Nox or his men. The smoke from the cigarette between his fingers swirled gently up his arm—the sounds in the air nothing but waves and the occasional squawk from an island bird. Sam allowed himself one last long drag before blowing large unsettled plumes out of his nostrils and crunching the rest of it under his boot. He took a couple of steps back into the main doorway and grabbed a glossy brochure from in front of the gift shop alcove, shaking it open while he walked towards the light of the courtyard.

Sam stared at the commercially colorized map.

"Faith does love a good map," He muttered under his breath as his eyes ran over the glossy commercial colors. The sound of her name dripping from his lips, a sweet rain that used to make him grin now single-handedly enveloping him in a cloud of shame. Sam shook it off. Like most touristy maps, it highlighted the main focal points and prominent locations within the fort, ruins of the artillery shed, the cistern, the officers quarters, and the second floor at the end of a long hallway, the cell of its most famous guest. Knowing Jasper's penchant for drama and theatrics, Sam already knew that's where he would find Faith.

He crumpled the map and shoved it into his back pocket and headed for it at a jog. Sam hurdled over the sill of one of the inner archways and inside the running ring of the fort. Dirt and sand crackled under his boots as he passed arches, all in different states of erosion. Some of the more decrepit reduced to nothing but a craggy, terrifying gap dropping off into the courtyard or the sea. Yellow caution tape had been haphazardly strung across their width and pieces of orange, plastic snow fence pieced across them—enough of a precautionary measure to avoid a lawsuit. Sam passed loose bricks and pieces of rebar, scant evidence of some sort of restoration effort that had occurred at a point in time. The hallway veered right, leading him to a way up. The staircase was dark, narrow, and spiraling, enough room for him but indeed not wide enough for two people side by side. Circling tightly and encased in concrete, it revolved only one and a half times before spitting the climber out on the second floor. It was a claustrophobics nightmare.

Before he could mount the stairs, the clatter of falling gravel on the steps above him gave him pause. Hearing faint movements but no conversation, he hoped it was just one guard. Slinking his way up the stairs, Sam kept his gun raised, and his back pressed flat against the wall. Reaching the top, he peeked around the corner.

One guard was pacing slowly around a set of arches, his sidearm still sitting idle in its holster. The guard dragged the toe of his black workboot through the sand like a mandala, creating swirls and patterns. He let out a sudden, vicious sneeze. His foot twitched and spasmed, ruining his budding work of art. Frowning in disappointment, he swiped his foot through the rest until all that remained of his art, just a pile of silt, dirt, and sand. Sam watched it all silently from the staircase.

Got some real winners employed here, Jasper, He thought, stowing his gun as he watched the guard leaning against the side of a stable arch, his gaze fixed on the ocean in front of him. Seizing the moment, Sam emerged from his hiding spot and, with one quick kick, swept the officer's leaning legs out from underneath him. He landed on the ground with a harsh thud, his face slack with surprise until a firm boot to the jaw from Sam rendered him unconscious.

Sam dashed soundlessly along the hallway, ears pricked up, eyes darting and alert. He reached the end of the hall and its staircase to the next floor without incident. Sam eagerly ran up the stairs, taking two at a time-

THUMP!

A solid mass of a man slammed into his chest, the moment catching both of them off-guard. Sam hit the back of the concrete capsule and rolled down along the wall, the edge of the stairs bit into his hip as he slid until he spilled back out onto the ground floor. Sam righted himself, scooting backward as the large guard emerged from the shade of the staircase.

“Jesus, you're a big fella now, aren't ya?” Sam quipped. The massive man approached, adjusting his belt.

"Well, you know what they say, 'the bigger they are...," Sam prompted raising one foot, thrusting it towards the guard's knee. A moment before he could make contact, the guard swooped down with quick cat reflexes and grabbed Sam's boot.

"Ah, shit."

The man jerked Sam's leg violently sideways, the tendons and nerves in his ankle and knee strained and screamed with pain. Sam yelled as his other foot shot out with pure reflex. The blow landed in the guard's ample stomach, making him double over. The burly man's retching gave Sam the window he needed to slither away from his grasp. He was trying to reach the closest archway to get himself to his feet when a large boot slammed into his lower back.

Sam wheezed a curse and rolled awkwardly towards the wall, trying to lessen the blows of the quick kicks being administered to his stomach. Able to reach the eroded bottom of an archway along the wall, Sam grabbed frantically for a rock, a pipe, anything useful. Settling on a grapefruit-size chunk of concrete, he whipped it at the guard. The rock thudded against the zipper of his crotch, sending him hard to his knees. Sam steadied himself upright. Back on his feet, he landed a right hook in the sweet spot, knocking the big guy out cold.

“Shit, why do they always have to go for the same knee?” He grumbled between heavy breaths. Sam worked it back and forth and tested putting pressure on it. He took a few hobbling steps as he batted the dust off himself and feeling for his gun still stored beneath his red overshirt. The pain amounted to all of a gnawing ache, nothing that his body hadn't felt and dealt with before.

The view from the arches passed like shuttering frames of film as Sam jogged towards his final set of stairs. The fort was still quiet, Jasper and the rest of his goons tucked away for now. Not knowing exactly how many men Jasper had already on the island, not to mention how many he had incoming that day, Sam planned on saving his bullets until he had no choice but to start shooting, something entirely not his style. He took the last staircase with more caution than the last; his ears were still raised for any sounds of people. The narrow opening from the stairs gave way to one last row of arches, all almost all intact. A massive oak door faced him from the other end, a large worn beam securely seated to hold the door closed.

An all too familiar sign hung above the door, the words on it making his stomach churn.

Whoso Entereth Here Leaveth All Hopes Behind.

Mudd's cell. Faith.

The realization of how close he was to her drew him like a high powered magnet. Sam raced towards the door, heart pounding, the ache in his knee forgotten. He just needed to get her out.

Sam grabbed just underneath the center of the beam that was keeping him out. The veins on his forearms strained against his tanned skin as he tried desperately to lift the substantial chunk of wood. Sweat coated his palms, and the erosion of smoothed wood worked against him, the locking beam barely creaked in its cradle.

"Shit!" He swore loudly. Sam looked around wildly for something, anything that could be used to aid him in opening the door. The quick search produced nothing but a couple chunks of masonry and the remnants of a bag of mortar, the bag torn and scratched open—Nothing at all useful.

Sam's frustration and anger grew with every attempt to open the door. He was so close, this godforsaken door his last hurdle. In one last rage-fueled action, Sam slammed his shoulder up underneath the end of the log. Phantom silver flecks flashed beneath his closed eyes as he strained against the wood.

"Please. God. Move...you...mother.." Sam commanded through gritted teeth, his whole body vibrating as he called on every ounce of energy he had. Sam finally felt the one side of the log begin to give. Sam slid himself under the end and, with all his might, and a groaning, yelling swear, unseated the beam as thunked to the floor, missing Sam's toes by a scant inch.

No wonder it took both me and Nathan to open doors and shit in Libertalia.

Sam grabbed ahold of the large, iron ring and pulled, the door coming open with the hinges offering only a minor protesting squeak.

The adrenaline in his veins came to a sudden stop, along with his breathing.

He thought he was looking at himself in Panama.

The cell was small, with one small window, like his. Instead of humid sweat and sewage, this smelled of ocean salt and mildew. No cot, no sink, no bucket. Just a cement drain to keep the blood from pooling. The cells they stuck you in after un achicalada, to reflect, to repent, and to bleed. Hideyholes for the guard's handiwork kept you all tucked away until one could stand, walk, possibly breathe through their own nose again. From experience, Sam remembered relishing in the coolness of the concrete and eventually passing out against it, trying like hell not to lose your mind.

Sam snapped back to the present.

Faith had passed out against the back wall at some point in the night. The side of her body leaned against the concrete, her chin tucked to her chest. Dried blood flaked around her mouth and her nostrils, which whistled desperately for air. Judging by the familiar sound, Sam could guess her nose was more than likely broken. Sam's brow furrowed as he gingerly lifted her arm. Her knuckles were red and angry while the meat of her hands was so swollen, her rings squeezed into flesh that was a massive purplish bruise. Her arms and legs were covered in welts, bloody, torn open raggedly, and blistering burns that already starting to weep and go raw. Sam bit the insides of his cheeks.

Jesus Sweetheart, what the hell did they do to you? Sam thought, his stomach knotted as he looked at every burn, welt, cut, bruise and puncture mark, knowing the amount of time this kind of pain took to inflict.

Sam put her arm back down gently against her legs, which looked to have gotten the same attention as her upper body.

I gotta get her out of here. If her outside looks like this, who knows what her goddamn insides could look like.

“Faith," He called her name quietly. His hand hesitated in the air, settling on the side of her neck and running his hand across her shoulder. A site that looked like it hadn't seen much damage.

He called her name again a little louder, resisting the urge to pick her up and just haul ass out of there. If they ran into trouble, he knew he couldn't shoot and carry her at the same time. And she was in no condition to shoot for him.

Faith's eyebrows twitched violently at the third call of her name. Her eyes flew open as she took in a breath and began to cough like a woman drowning in a dream. The pain in her head made her eyes shut tight again while she gingerly brought her hands to her temple, her hands barely making contact.

“Faith, it's me,” Sam said gently.

The cloud around Faith's brain made her ears ring, her head roar, and her face scream. Through it, she thought she heard Sam's voice. Truth be told, she had been hearing it all night in micro dreams where they were still in their hotel room, each with a beer in hand, none of this or any of what Jasper said, having taken place. All a bad dream. If I was only so lucky, she had thought miserably during the night. But this voice was clearer, closer, and was delicately stroking her neck.

Faith let her hands drop slowly, a curtain reveal to see if this was just another trick of her imagination. She saw his eyes, the hazel that was usually bright and bursting with golden tones now a deep green-brown like a muddy lawn.

"Sam?" Her voice croaked out his name, and Sam thought there was no sweeter sound on this Earth.

"Yeah, sweetheart, it's me. It's me. Let's get you out of here, alright?"

Sam saw Faith's face darken and knew something wasn't right.

Words flew through Faith's fogged brain. Some old. Some new.

Sam Drake caused this.

After all the misery Samuel Drake has caused to you and your family...

What happened to your father was his fault.

How in the world can you trust that man...

What happened to your mother was his fault.

Now myself, personally, I couldn’t do it...

What happened to you is also his fault.

Arthur Bixby and Jasper Nox's voice playing in her head. A hellish, harmony, doubting tune she couldn't shake.

Faith batted away Sam's hand and coward against the wall. A constant chant of 'no, no, no' dribbled from her lips as she inched her way back into the corner with her heels.

Sam backed away slowly as she did. He stood and watched as Faith returned herself into the safety of the corner of the room, her knees brought to her chest, her face cowering behind her arms. She looked like a kicked puppy, scared to move, untrusting the hand in front of it held out in friendship.

An onyx Eagle came from behind to rest of Sam's shoulder.

"Now what on God's green Earth makes you believe she would go runnin' back into the arms of a murderer? Especially yours?"

#sam drake x oc #OC X Sam Drake #samuel drake x oc #sam drake fanfiction #My writing #dangerous #uncharted fanfiction

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isthisthingeven0n · 5 years

Text

same circle, new memories : m.k

brief summary: being a social media influencer most of your life is forever on display, but the most private part is your relationship with matt. one you both enjoy being just the two of you, that is until you’re exposed and fans are allowed to react.

word count: 1.1k requested: yes- so long ago it’s embarrassing! this is actually a combination of two requests both from anons. (one about having date night w matt cooking and the other being a social media person and having your relationship w matt revealed) warnings: literally none, but if you count swearing?

* masterlistin’

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

You were always amongst the same circles of people, it was part of your job. In the end, it was only going to be a matter of time before you spoke to one another and you’ve never been more thankful that he made the first move.

Sometimes, when you think back to it, the entire thing feels like it happened yesterday. The nervous smile he wore as he leant against the wall beside you as you held another red cup in your hand, past the point of comfortable. But you talked to him, you liked his glasses and his humour. And for once, that at one of these parties someone wasn’t trying to seduce you, not intentionally that is.

Both of you weren’t interested in making it public after a few dates. You enjoyed the privacy you shared, the sweet moments you could enjoy as a couple without forcing it down everyone’s throats. There wasn’t a need to cause speculation with fans, to display what is going on. You were just happy, and so was he. And for you, that was all that truly mattered at the end of the day. Your relationship was in a bubble, one neither of you were prepared to have burst.

Sadly, someone always comes around and pops the bubble, exposing you both to the entire world. Well, to all of those on social media following you both that is.

Walking into your kitchen, you could smell the chicken as it was removed from the oven. A ward of smoke swiftly clinging to the ceiling as the lights shine onto the swirls of grey.

A loud cough follows, and you silently laugh as you lean against the kitchen counter, waiting for the tall man to turn around and face you.

“Shit.” He mutters under his breath, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

“You’re telling me, I only just bought that dish.” You reply with a smile, causing him to quickly turn around in a panic.

His eyes are wide, hidden behind his foggy glasses. “I didn’t think you were home?” He questions and I glance over my shoulder, seeing my roommate give me a thumbs up before walking toward her room.

“Change of plans. My photoshoot ended early.” You reply, placing your bag down on the counter before moving to open the windows as you struggle not to cough. “You cooking is dinner?” You ask with a smile, walking over and wrapping your arms around him.

Matt shrugs his shoulder before his arms rest around your shoulders. “Well, I was going to make it a surprise.” He huffs, ignoring your growing smile. “But I forgot you have a weird oven.” He motions to the near-black chicken resting on the counter.

“You tried, that’s all that matter.” You tell him supportively, causing him to turn back and lean in to kiss you softly.

As he pulls away he groans into your lips. “How long you home for?” He questions as his forehead remain against yours.

“Few days. I’ve got a trip to New York with Tarte on Monday ‘til Thursday.” You explain, watching his smile falter. “But,” You reason, standing back on your tiptoes. “then I’ll be home for a month. No commitments, just the usual stuff in the city.”

Matts smile returns as he kisses you gently. “That, I like the sound of.” He chuckles as you head your roommate call you, causing your moment to be interrupted.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt you guys. I know it’s date night, but you might wanna see this.” She holds up her phone as a look of worry is evident in her eyes.

Slowly, you walk over toward her as Matt follows behind you. “What’s up?” You ask calmly as she passes you her phone, seeing a screenshot of a photo one of your friends took of you and Matt.

It takes a moment to process what is happening. And when it hits you, you swear under your breath. “Fuck.” You rub your eyes, realising what it all means.

You turn and grab your phone, seeing notifications rolling in by the second. “Your phone will be blowing up too.” You glance over, telling Matt as a heavy sigh leaves your lips.

After all these months, a single photo is all it took to expose your perfect relationship. You enjoyed months of being just you, not recording every given moment together for anyone else to see. Every vlog that was filmed you noticed snippets that were cut out of you both. You knew they still existed, as Matt wanted to treasure those together. Any sight of you curling up together was put down to friendship, and you ignored comments questioning the pair of you.

Glancing up to Matt, he wears the same look of uncertainty. “What’d we do?” You ask him quietly, biting at your lower lip as he rubs his temples.

Letting his hand fall down to his side, he huffs to himself. “Do you wanna address it or keep this quiet?” He focuses on you, watching your eyes remain on his.

You allow your mind to wander to the night you first spoke, how transfixed you were with his eyes then. When you looked at them, they told you a thousand different stories, ones you were excited to hear. You knew you could trust him, you would always trust him.

“I don’t wanna keep us quiet.” You speak up confidently. “I care about you, Matt. And I think, no, I know I love you.” The words roll off of your tongue effortlessly as you focus on him, not letting your gaze nudge from his.

Without realising it, you watch as Matt’s lips move and repeat the words back to you. His hands wander down your arms, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I can’t believe you got to say it first.” He mutters to you with a light laugh, causing your smile to grow.

“What can I say? I’m not good at waiting.” You joke, glancing over to see your roommate with her phone up, capturing the moment.

She lowers her phone, wearing a sheepish look on her face. “Thought you might wanna keep this moment precious. I’ll airdrop the photo.” She walks off, dropping the photo of you two in each other's arms together, curled up in your perfect bubble.

“Shall I?” You bite your lip, looking up to see Matt nod.

Letting one hand slip from his, you reach out from your bubble and post the picture, bursting your bubble and allowing the world in.

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quackeroos · 4 years

Text

ONE WEEK || Day Four

Pairing: tom holland x dying ex!reader

Summary: you were dying, and tom still loves you. now he plans on loving you ‘til your last breath, and maybe get you to say those three words back to him.

Warnings: swearing, angst

Words: 4.9k

*gif is not mine!

General Masterlist | Series Masterlist

EYES SQUINTING, Y/N WOKE UP with the sun shining on her face. The blinds were open, and she groaned at the blinding rays of light. She never really was a fan of the morning sun. Well, when it came to waking her up, of course. She very much preferred watching it set rather than blinding her eyes.

Her body decided to wake up, a little early than her usual wake up time. Stretching her muscles felt good, she could feel her joints pop and give her that relaxing feeling. Blinking, her eyes wandered around her surroundings. It was weird, nobody was with her. She expected to see Tom laying down on the couch and her sister on the little spare bed beside hers, but instead, she was all alone. Her hand reached for her phone and rang their contact numbers. It immediately went to voicemail.

She tried ringing Tom's phone for the fourth time, still no answer. "Where could he have gone?" she hears the door open, her head turns at the source, expecting a curly haired brunette walk out of the shadows. "Tom?" she called out. But instead of Tom, it was someone else.

"Bold of you to assume I'm a guy, N/n." a giggle escapes her mouth, it was only Jamie.

"You look disappointed, what's wrong?" her sister approaches her bed bringing along some of the stuff she got. Y/n shakes her head. "Never mind that. So, where have you been? And what's with all the paper bags?"

"Just thought of buying a few outfits for us. I even sneaked this pass your nurses." Jamie opens the lid of the takeout she bought. Pancakes and Waffles. A grin makes it way up to her mouth, but falters at the sudden realization. "You know I can't." sadness in the tone of her voice was evident.

"Oh nonsense! I say that today is your cheat day, and that my sister should have a bit of freedom. Now here, eat." She pushes the breakfast plate towards her and gave her the maple syrup. Y/n ponders for a moment. Should she or should she not? It looked so good, but it could risk her health even more. One sweet breakfast couldn't hurt, right?

Still having second thoughts, she reluctantly takes the fork and knife, digging into the maple syrup covered carb meal. The sweet taste melted in her mouth, and she loved it. She missed the flavour of every dessert, sugar, and fast food she ate. She hated her diet, oh how much she missed living normal. "Good, right? Tom told me you'd like it." This caught her attention. Her face looked up from the plate, a little drop of maple syrup on her lips.

"What?"

"What?" her sister parroted. Y/n wasn't at all phased. Her eyes squinted at her while Jamie still pretended to not say anything. "Just go and eat your breakfast, I'm taking you to a trip around the hospital after."

***

"Can't we just stay in the room? I really wanna finish my sit-com marathon."

"Oh, quit you're whining! You should get out of that room more. It's suffocating in there." Y/n rolled her eyes at her sister. She sounded a lot like their Mum, and Y/n could already picture it out in her head. Jamie did take after their mother's looks and a bit of her mannerisms, and on their Dad's side, she got more of his personality. She stifled a laugh while looking at her sister. Jamie gives her a confused look. "What are you laughing at?" she asked.

"Nothing. You just sounded like Mum." Jamie gives her a sarcastic laugh and continues pushing. Y/n hadn't taken this route before though. The siblings pass through a skybridge leading towards the other building of the hospital. Her head craned and looked up at her sister, "Where are we even going?" She asked.

A smirk appears on her face. "You'll see."

The once transparent walls were changed into colorful walls painted with rainbows, flowers, butterflies and stars. This must be the children's ward. Y/n thought. The two pushed through two doors, leading to what seems "An activity center?" The girl spoke aloud. The venue was filled with a mix of teens and children, sick children. "Why in the world did you bring me to an activity center filled with children?" Jamie only looked at her with a hint of excitement in her eyes. Music blasted through the speakers and two familiar faces walked out from the makeshift stage.

"What's up guys! /Hello everyone!" the two greeted, waving to the crowd of children who also seemed to be hyped up. "I'm Jacob and this is my good friend Zendaya." The kids reply in chorus, waving at them saying 'Hi'

"So today we have a very special surprise for you guys! Do you like surprises?" Another enthusiastic reply from the young crowd, which brings a smile to Zendaya and Jacob's faces. At a far distance, Y/n could see a mop of curly ginger-brown hair holding a camera. It was Harry. Y/n could smell something fishy. The smirk her sister gave, Jacob and Zendaya's sudden appearance, Harry filming. She didn't want to go with her gut feeling. Y/n wanted to leave but at the same time, she wanted to stay and see where this was headed. "So, do you guys like heroes?" Jacob directed the mic towards the crowd and everyone in the room replied with another 'Yes'

"You know what Z? I'm not gonna delay this any longer. Everyone please welcome, our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man!" the doors burst open and music played as the figure made an entrance. He momentarily glances at Y/n. Although the person was masked, she could feel his smile radiating. She knew exactly who it was behind it. Spider-Man did a flip, making the children around him wow and cheer at awe. "Hey! What's up everybody?" more cheers from the audience. He removes the red mask and his long brown curls flopped on his forehead, making him bring his hand up and brush through it. It was a signature move he did that Y/n loved, she still does, she's not gonna deny that. The Kingsleigh Sisters stayed all throughout the little meet and greet. Some stories and laughs were shared between Tom and his fans. She could tell he loved it, his job, his fans, everything. And when it was time for him to go, Tom lifts his mic.

"But before that, I'm gonna sing a song for you guys. Some of you might know this, so go ahead and sing along if you'd like." Sam takes out a mic stand while Tuwaine hands him a caramel colored guitar. Y/n recognizes the familiar instrument. She could feel her heart clench. Thousands of songs were played with it, and so many memories held in that guitar, both good and bad ones. She then started to wonder, did Tom ever stopped playing after everything that had happened?

The man positioned himself behind the mic, his guitar hanging around him with a strap to keep it's hold. He played a few chords to see if it was in tune, before he talks through the microphone. "This song is called, Introducing Me." Y/n hears a few of them gasp, most of it coming from the teenagers.

Tom starts strumming the intro, biting his lip a bit and smiling as he does. A few of the audience starts to sing along with him, their phones raised up, ready to record everything.

"I'm good at wasting time I think lyrics need to rhyme And you're not asking But I'm trying to grow a mustache I eat cheese, but only on pizza please Sometimes, on a homemade quesadilla Otherwise it smells like feet to me,"

She remembers one time, when they went out on a date, Tom insisted not to order anything that has a lot of cheese. It didn't sit well with his stomach and he heavily dislike the smell. And like the song, he only accepts it on pizzas.

"And I, I really like it when the moon looks like a toenail And I love you when you say my name"

Tom looks up from the crowd and finds the pair of e/c he loved looking into. Although she was far, he caught her staring back. Y/n didn't know what to feel. At the exact moment he said those three words, he looked at her. Her heart starts beating to the same beat to the song.

"If you wanna know Here it goes Gonna tell you this The part of me that shows if you're close Gonna let you see everything But remember that you asked for it I'll try to do my best to impress"

The song takes her way back to high school. It was lunch time, and hundreds of students were there to witness it. In the middle of the cafeteria, he stood there on the table, facing her, serenading her in front of everyone. And here they are now, nine years later, in front of a crowd, doing the exact same thing that made her see what could be if she said yes to him.

"But it's easier to let you take a guess at the rest But you wanna hear what lives in my brain My heart, will you ask for it For your perusing At times confusing, slightly amusing Introducing me"

His little humming to the tune made her giggle, Y/n found it very cute, with his head moving to it, it was double the times better. When it came to the second verse, he strummed faster, the lyrics also matching with his pace.

"I never trust a dog to watch my food And I like to use to the word "dude" As a noun, or an adverb, or an adjective And I've never really been into cars I like really cool guitars and superheroes And checks with lots of zeros on 'em"

Tom walks towards the audience area, serving his fans with a few smiles for them and for the cameras on their phones. Harry followed behind his brother, documenting everything with his camera.

"I love the sounds of violins And making someone smile"

His goofy face made her smile. A sweet and genuine smile. It was more than enough for Tom to send him to the seventh heaven. The corners of her eyes crinkled, cheeks blushed and face fully glowing. How he wished he could see her like this every day. He continues with the chorus, circling the fans, and from time to time, he would glance at Harry's camera. The bridge part of the song came, and little by little, y/n notices Tom coming towards her. Jamie moved back to give the two their limelight, her giddy smile evident on her face.

"So, if you wanna know, here it goes Gonna tell ya there's a part of me that shows If were close gonna let you see everything But remember that you asked for it I'm trying to do my best to impress

But it's easier to let you take a guess at the rest But you wanna hear what lives in my brain, in my heart Well, you asked for it."

At this point, y/n was already melting in her seat. Tom continued strumming, his left hand skillfully moving from one chord to the other on the neck of the guitar, all the while his gaze was focused on her. The crowd of children, teenagers, nurses and guardians all directed their attention towards the two, not only them but their group of friends too, and Harry at the side still holding his camera with a grin on his face.

"For your perusing At times confusing Hopefully amusing Introducing me" He slowly kneels on one knee, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. The brown locks on top of his head flopped on his forehead and droplets of sweat glimmered in the fluorescent lights. Being a habit of hers, her hands lift up and brush through his hair. The brown locks slicked back and stayed with the few waxes left in its hold.

"Introducing me."

Heavy breaths came out of him, his hands were a bit sore, and his head felt a little fuzzy. But it was fine for him, because the butterflies he felt in his stomach and the immense pounding of his heart both in exhaustion and adoration made it alright. Tom heard claps in the background, but he never turned. He just wanted to be with her and the moment that they have right then and there.

"You're shaking, Tom." She spoke softly. He couldn't feel it himself, but Y/n could see him trembling a bit. Probably because of the exhaustion his body had intake. Tom only smiled and dismissed the fact. "It's alright. I'm not gonna pass out I promise." A soft giggle escapes her lips. "Is this the reason why I haven't seen and heard of you all morning?"

"Yeah. But that was only the opening act." A smirk formed on his lips and pushed back the stray hair on her face. He quickly left and went back to the stage, thanking everyone who came and the hospital for having them. Y/n was left dumbfounded and confused. What did he mean 'that was only the opening act' ?

***

Tom quickly went to go to a nearby restroom and change back into his casual clothes, hurrying as he fixes his pants and combs through his hair. Sam was outside, waiting with a bouquet of Yarrows, and Harry waited with his twin, holding his brother's guitar. "So, now what do you do?" He asked his sibling from the door, and it opened to reveal a fresh-faced Tom. His hand runs through his hair, grabbing the bouquet in the other.

"Phase One: Nostalgia"

***

Jamie helped her change into the clothes she bought her. Y/n shivered at the cold air that was hitting her skin. She wasn't used exposing her skin that much, unlike a few years ago. Now, it felt like she was living in the Arctic Ocean. The air in her hospital room combined with the cold London air was not helping her condition at all. "Why do I have to wear a dress?" she questioned her sister, irritation visible in her tone.

"Because...."

She waited for her to continue, but Jamie only kept silent and fixed her hair. "Because what?" she urged on. "Oh, you'll find out soon." Her eyebrow perked up. She had a gut feeling this had something to do with Tom. It had only been a few hours since she had last seen him. And with the last sentence he had told her, made her mind run in circles and her gut clench that maybe what Jamie was doing was all part of it.

It all connected, but she had to find out if it really was true. So she let Jamie do her hair while she sat comfortably in her wheelchair, watching the telly in her hospital room. The younger Kingsleigh was already half through when her phone beeped from her pocket. She skillfully holds all three strands in one hand while using the other to open her phone and read the text message Harry had sent her.

Curlz™ Tom's done changing. We're heading to the car. Is everything set?

Jamie Jamz 🍯🍓 She's almost done. You got her exit permits?

Curlz™ Yup. Gtg. We still need to set up everything before she comes.

Jamie Jamz 🍯🍓 See ya later curlios read 12:28 pm

Jamie tucked away her phone and continued braiding the small section of her sister's hair. Y/n wasn't really a fan of her hair being tied up, she preferred it free from bands and bobby pins. But Jamie loved doing her hair, so on rare occasions, she lets her do hers. Once Jamie was done, she let Y/n look of her final look in the mirror. the sides of her hair were braided but it was loose, just as she requested. The remaining locks trailed down her shoulders felt free to her liking. "It's perfect. Thank you Jams."

"Glad you like it. Now come on, we gotta go. the car's waiting."

She blinks in confusion. "Wait, a car? I thought I wasn't supposed to leave before my surgery?"

"Nothing's impossible, darling. We've made a little arrangement. And besides, you have 48 hours before your surgery. Let's make the most of it, yeah?" Jamie excitedly pushes her wheelchair and they left the room.

***

Y/n couldn't see anything. After boarding the car, her eyes were immediately covered with a blindfold. She could feel Jamie at her side and another person beside her. She assumed it was the nurse that usually takes care of her, the one before Daisy. Harriet, she thinks her names was.

"Jamie, where the hell are you taking me right now?" She was getting impatient. They had been in the car for almost thirty minutes and they still haven't arrived at their destination, wherever it was. "Having some trouble with the directions. Don't worry, we'll be there in ten minutes tops." and in ten minutes, they did.

Y/n was carried down and placed on her wheelchair, Jamie pushing her to who knows where. She took in a deep breath. Oxygen, fresh oxygen. Not the air from the hospital or from the tanks, this one was pure oxygen. She had a guess, that they were in a park, maybe? The sounds of birds chirping, the smell of flowers, and the feeling of grass slightly hitting her skin made her think so. The next thing she knew, the cloth was removed from her eyes, and now she could see everything.

Her hunch was right, she was in a park. The park where Tom took her on their first date. "Surprise!" A deep voice said behind her. She turned her head around and found a pair of blue eyes looking back at her with a charming smile. "Harrison? I thought you had a photoshoot today?"

"We ended earlier than expected. And besides, I wouldn't miss this one for the whole world. Let's take a walk, yeah?" He grabs the handlebars and pushes her wheelchair, moving slowly to appreciate the view more. She inhaled a deep breath, nostalgia filled it. Memories flooded back in from their first date to their last one. Those were the only things that ran inside her head for the past few days. The smell of his hair, his cute laughs, dates, fights, kisses and everything they did together. Ever since Tom unexpectedly came to her room and back in her life, it was nothing but pure nostalgia and memories.

Now, she finally understood it. She really did miss him after all these years.

"Feels great to be finally out huh?" Harrison spoke. She hums in reply.

"Even if it's just for today, this is even better than the rooftop garden."

"And it's about to get even better." Harrison leaned down to whisper in her ear and his head nods forward. Her line of sight followed the direction and there she saw Tom, inside a big white playpen filled with dogs, there were at least ten or more of them in different breeds. Harrison can see the sparkle in her eyes, and he smiled when he saw the old Y/n at that moment.

The blonde pushed her towards the gate of the playpen, and when she was already near, dogs start to come up to her and their tails wagged in excitement. Tom notices her at the gate, cooing at the little ones while her hand reached out to them. He stands up, dusts himself off and jogs towards her. "Wanna come and meet them?" he asks her. Tom smiled when she nodded. He stuck his foot at the other side of the playpen and slid his arms under her legs and her small back. He carried her gently and placed her on one of the small cushions.

Dogs of different breeds and sizes came running up to her, smothering her with licks and pouncing on her. Y/n's giggles were the only things he could hear at the moment. Those beautiful giggles he loved to hear. It sounded so melodic; he couldn't get enough of it.

He couldn't get enough of her.

"Tom?" he was pulled back from his thoughts. Y/n was staring up at him, a golden retriever sat on her lap while a few other dogs laid under her hand as she scratched their heads. She patted the other cushion beside her, inviting him to sit down. As soon as he sat down a certain dog came up to him, running with a smile, tongue out. Y/n's face beamed up as soon as she saw her. "You brought Tessa!" The staffy's ears perked up upon hearing her name, she pounced on Y/n and licked her, tail wagging a mile per minute.

"Aww I've missed you sweet angel!" She cooed. Tessa barked; happiness etched on her adorable face.

"I figured I'd bring Tessa. She's been playing with that toy you brought her, never wanted to let go of if." Tom said from the said as he leaned in and scratches his dog's head. So close, her mind warned. His scent filled her nose. That familiar scent that was unique that reminded her that this was her Tom. "Would've been nice though if Haz brought Monty along."

"I'll ask him next time. In the meantime, let's eat." He pulls out a picnic basket from behind and opens it, revealing various snacks that she could eat without having to break her diet.

Her eyebrow quirked up, "You planned this out, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I just happen to find this hiding behind my back."

"Whatever you say. Hey, do me a favour though, pass me that..." she points to the opened basket and one particular pastry was in view. The croissant.

His eyes squinted at Y/n, who was trying to contain her laughter. "Going for the old jokes huh? You pronounce it like that to you know!"

"Yeah. But it's not as lame as yours, Quackson." Tom rolled his eyes and lets out a sigh. Still as childish as ever. Tom took out a pack of dog treats and whistles. Dogs around the playpen immediately run towards Tom and it then are became a food frenzy. "I honestly still can't believe this. Where in the world did you get so many dogs? You didn't kidnap them, did you?"

"I asked a dog shelter I was sponsoring to lend them for a bit. They needed to go out and have a walk anyway, so I thought I might just let them play around. Honestly y/n, you think I'm that bad? And here I thought you knew me better than anyone else."

"Alright, alright, no need to get sappy on me Movie Star."

The corners of his mouth curls and he bites his lip to try and suppress the forming smile. Y/n could see this from her peripheral vision, and she turns around to face him. "What?" Tom just shakes his head and chuckles softly. "Nothing." She had still remembered that darn nickname. He hated being called like that, Movie Star, Big shot, most specially by his father. But with y/n, he didn't mind it. Well, just a little.

"You did great earlier, by the way. I'm glad you never stopped playing."

"Yeah, I'm glad I didn't too." he breathed out.

Y/n puts both hands on her lap. "I have a special request though, if you don't mind playing right now."

Tom waves his hand and moments later, Harrison jogs towards them with Tom's guitar in hand. "Wow, you really prepared for this."

Tom lets out a dry laugh. "Not gonna lie about this one. I was actually gonna do a concert for the kids earlier, But I figured I'd might as well do it for you instead." He puts the strap on and strums the strings, just in the right tune. "So, what song?"

"You choose. You know I'd enjoy anything you play."

And so, Tom positioned himself, sitting crisscrossed and facing her. She silently waits for him while he was choosing a song in his head. His face lit up and he starts strumming, humming the intro. Y/n immediately remembers the song and a grin makes it way up to her face. The song was her favourite, and Tom played it often, so it wasn't hard for her to recognize it. Tom matched her grin and continued playing.

"I'll hold the door Please come in and just sit here for a while. This is my way of telling you I need you in my life."

The next thing y/n did surprised Tom, in a good way. He never thought he'd be hearing her sing along with him again.

"It's so cold without your touch. I've been dreaming way too much Can we just turn this into reality.

And the two sang, hearts beating as one.

"Cause I've been thinking 'bout you lately. Maybe you could save me from this crazy world we live in. And I know we could happen cause you know that I've been feeling you."

A giggle escapes her lips as Tom repeats his humming.

From a far distance, Jamie, Harrison, and the others watched the two. They've never seen the two look so happy together. "It's as if they've never broken up in the first place." Sam commented. The others agreed with him. The two had been grinning, both obviously lovesick and comfortable with each other's presence.

Jacob nudged Harrison's side, asking him, "Do you think she's falling for Tom again?"

"No." All their heads turned to Jamie. "Because, even after my sister broke it off, she never really stopped loving Tom." Her head turns back again to the two. "She always had."

"There's no other love That I'd rather have you know."

And just like what he had done earlier, Tom never broke eye contact.

"There ain't no one there ain't no one else. I want you for myself"

He purposely made y/n feel like the song he was singing was meant for her. Honestly, it was for her. Every word that contained it was the message he wanted to tell her.

"I've been thinking 'bout you lately. Maybe you can save me from this crazy world we live in. And I know we could happen cause you know that I've been feeling you. I know you want me,"

She sang again.

"I've been thinking 'bout you lately. Maybe you can save me from this crazy world we live in. And I know we could happen cause you know that I've been feeling you."

"I know you want me too." The strumming continues and he moved closer to her.

"I know you want me too." Her reply came out more as a statement, but Tom continued strumming and humming.

He ended the song with one last strum. A half-smile was still etched on his face. "I'm glad you never stopped singing, Y/n."

"Yeah, well, I couldn't exactly dance, now can I?" She joked. "I might as well keep the next thing I love most before I lose it."

Tom puts his guitar to the side and offered some food from the picnic basket. Their time together continued, with more duets and playing with the dogs. When the sun was setting, Harrison texted Tom and informed him that it was time to take Y/n back to the hospital. Jamie came with her wheelchair and from that, Y/n knew that the day was over.

"I wish this never ends." Y/n says.

"Don't worry. As soon as you're done with your surgery and you get out of that hospital, we'll be doing this every day." Tom scooped her up and walked towards her wheelchair. He couldn't help but look at Y/n while he was carrying her. She looked like a bride, and he could hear the bells ringing inside his head.

At that moment, Tom had imagined everything. Him standing at the altar with Harrison by his side. His parents and Y/n's parents sitting at the front. Jamie walking down the aisle with her. Dressed in a white gown with beautiful laces that decorated it. Her veil covered her face, but he could still see the face of the love of his life.

It felt like Tom was looking into his future.

He sets her down and the grip around his neck removed once she sat. Jamie turns her wheelchair, "I'll see you at the room, Tom." she said before pushing her sister. Y/n looked back for a moment and waves at Tom. He waves back.

"Can't wipe that smile off can yaw?" Harrison teased, patting his friend's back.

"Nah. Not goanna come off any time soon."

"So, what's your plan now? You made Y/n the happiest she had been ever since she was admitted to the hospital." Tom quiets for a moment and stares off into the distance. He watched Y/n's car drive off before he spoke again. "Haz?"

"Yeah?"

"I've made up my mind. I'm gonna do it again."

"Again? What do you mean-" Harrison slowly realizes what he meant as his voice falters, blue eyes wide in shock. "Tom, are you sure? This is kinda big y'know."

He sighs. "I know." Tom turns to him, a sad look mixed with love and determination on his face. "But Y/n's time is running out, Haz. Her operation is in two days, her chance of survivability may not even make the cut. I'm not gonna take that chance."

Tom felt through his back pocket and took out a tiny velvet box.

day five of One Week

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#tom holland #tom holland angst #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland reader insert #peter parker fanfic #harrison osterfield #dying ex #angst fanfiction #tom holland fanfiction #one week #one week by quackeroos

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fic-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

The Boxer

A/N: This is inspired by the song with the same name. I was listening to it and thought to myself “you know what nobody needs, angst.” Also the lyrics aren’t really in order, I just chose the ones that I thought best fit the fic.

Pairing: Steve x reader

Warning: Extreme angst. Listen to the song for maximum angst.

Word count: 1.5k

Steve remembers the battle in Wakanda as vividly as the day it happened. Thor had just come crashing down to Earth with Rocket and Groot at his sides, it looked like they were going to win this after all. Steve had attempted to take Thanos on one to on. You were battling alien after alien but holding your own none the less. You tried to make a desperate pass for Thanos but he threw you aside like you were no more than a ragdoll.

Steve ran to you then, the rest of the battle suddenly unimportant to him. You were what he cared about and he couldn’t live with himself if something bad happened to you. You had a gash in your side but it didn’t seem deep, wasn’t anything serious. You were more shaken up than anything. Steve could hear the crackle of thunder and knew that Thor was about to finish the job once and for all. Steve scooped you in his arms so he could take you back to the lab and ask Shuri if she could work her magic one last time. Everything was going to be okay.

You pressed a gentle hand to Steve’s face and stroked his beard. Teasing him about letting it grow out to such an absurd length. You two had been parted since the Civil War but had made up in Wakanda. Life seemed too short, to precious to squabble about the things that no longer held any importance. That was in the past. You wrapped your arm around Steve’s , neck, getting ready to be lifted when the sound of a snap echoed throughout the battlefield. Steve looked behind him as Thanos disappeared through a portal, Thor having failed in his attempt to stop the mad titan. Where had he gone? Had they lost? Steve didn’t know how much more of this any of them could take. He would’ve continued staring at that spot for an eternity but you called his focus back.

“Stevie, what’s happening?” You questioned, the fear apparent in your voice. Steve looked down to discover that your body was slowly turning to ash. It started at your feet and worked its way up encompassing you in a deathly gray.

“Baby? Baby stay with me.” Steve panicked, trying to grab you closer to him, anything to keep you with him where you belonged.

“Steve, I-” Your voice cut out as the gray ash caught up with you, and before Steve knew it he was holding a pile of dust where your body had once been. Numb doesn’t even begin to describe how Steve felt. He felt like his heart along with the rest of his organs had been ripped from his body and burned in front of him.

He pawed at the grass beneath him, thinking that maybe if he dug enough he would find you again. He dug until his fingers were caked in mud and dirt, until he felt Natasha place a hand on his shoulder.

“They’re gone.” She said, voice hollow and devoid of emotion.

He stopped. Looked around him and stood up with his team. There was no trace of Bucky or Sam or really anyone for that matter. Those that remained all had the same shell-shocked expression etched on their faces. Like something unnatural had just occurred.

*5 years later*

Sitting in his grief counseling group Steve had encouraged the other members to talk about their lives. How they moved on from the snap, because what alternative did they have? Some cried, some laughed, but they all grieved in their own way. Steve should’ve been listening to the man who was speaking, but he couldn’t. His mind just kept going back to everything in his life that had led him here to this moment.

When I left my home and my family, I was no more than a boy. In the company of strangers.

All of the dumb fights he would get into as a scrawney kid in Brooklyn, all the enlistment forms he falsified, everything he did, was to get to somewhere better. He was so naive when he became Captain America. He had left his home, his family, Bucky, the only friend he had ever known. Traveling on the road as a glorified chorus girl had kept him isolated from any real human interaction, but why had it stung less than it did now? He knew the answer, of course he did.

The reason was you. He felt splintered and broken inside because before all of this mess, after the ice, he had you, every step of the way. You were the one who coaxed him into modern living and who helped him through his PTSD. Even though you two sometimes had different points of view you made each other better people. Steve thought he was in pain when you sided with Tony for the accords but that paled in comparison to this. At least then he knew you were alive. Now, he didn’t know what you were, and that was by far so much worse.

Just a come-on from the whores on seventh avenue. I do declare there were times when I was so lonesome I took some comfort there

After therapy, he waited outside a rundown coffee shop, looking at his phone. He was meeting someone. He wasn’t taking his advice and moving on as he should have been, these women were never about moving on. They were about forgetting, or at least, trying to forget. They were about burying the pain in each other for a moment but then the inevitable guilt would eat at his soul. What would you think if you saw him like this? That thought was too much for Steve to bare.

Steve would never tell anyone this but he kept a bag packed in his closet. You had told him about your hometown and spoke about it with such adoration and love that he couldn’t help but want to see it. To see the town that built you. He thought that maybe a small part of him would feel better, could start to heal, if he had that little piece of you with him.

And wishing I was gone, going home. Where the New York City winters aren’t bleeding me

He got home and sighed. He opened the closet to change and saw the bag, staring him in the face. With tear-stained eyes he grabbed the bag. Deciding that he was going to get out of the city, at least for a little while, to see you. See the part of you that still existed, it was almost your birthday. He owed that much to you.

He got in his car and figured he should see Nat before he left. He didn’t have to tell her where he was going, but he wanted to see her one more time, in case he didn’t come back.

*Bruce does the snap*

Scott is the first to notice a change. He can hear birds coming back to their flock. More birds than there had been in years. Clint is next, he gets a call from Laura, it’s surreal to hear the sound of her muffled voice talking to Clint as if nothing happened. But where are you? All the others are coming back but why aren’t you?

In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade. And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him til he cried out.

Fighting Thanos for a second time was brutal. Steve is so battered and broken he can’t think straight anymore, he just knows he has to keep going. Your death will not be in vain. It can’t be. He lost sight of Thor and Tony, all he knows is that it’s just him against Thanos and his entire army.

In his anger in his shame, “I am leaving, I am leaving” but the fighter still remains

With gritted teeth and leaded limbs Steve straps his fragmented shield tighter around his battered and bloody arm, getting ready to die on the battlefield if that’s what it takes. This is his destiny and this is his time. He stands, one knee at a time, Thanos has given him that luxury at least. The luxury of time.

Steve hears a faint crackle in his comm but ignores it, it’s probably broken, just like everything else in Steve’s life.

“Stevie? Can you hear me.” Your voice is a sirens call to him. Confusion and relief seep through his bones, giving him renewed fervor.

“On your left.” He hears Sam call, but how is any of this possible? Steve looks up to see hundreds of thousands of magic concentric circles open up around him. He stands up a little straighter as people keep pouring out. People he thought he lost. He looks and sees Bucky walk through a circle and he thinks he’s going to pass out because you’re right there next to him, knives in hand and a familiar glint in your eyes. You give him a knowing nod, and it’s all the encouragement he could ever need.

“Avengers...assemble.”

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #captain america fanfic #the boxer #song fic #avengers fanfic #avengers infinity war #avengers endgame

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myckicade · 5 years

Note

Do the kids stay snakes forever, or do they change into toddlers/babies? (I only just found your blog so I have no idea if you've answered a similar ask, so please forgive me if you have) Bc tbh I thought that in the last ask you answered, that Crowley might turn around and find the missing kid looking like a toddler, walking on unsteady legs, knocking things over and completely nude. He sees Crowley and they just stare at each other until the baby smiles and laughs while Crowley is just "???"

Awww! That’s so adorable! I gave it some thought, and I think it would go down, a little something like this:

P.S. This is being broken down into (at least) three parts.

***

“Do you think they’ll be like this, always?” Aziraphale asked quietly, voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t dare raise it, even a fraction, for fear of waking the two slumbering hatchlings curled around his throat.

Crowley looked up from where he sat, at the opposite end of the sofa. “What do you mean?” he murmured, with a tired smile. The child draped over his shoulder didn’t budge. The one on his chest wiggled for a second, before settling back down. Reaching up, Crowley brushed a gentle thumb along the boy’s side, hoping to comfort him back to sleep.

On the other cushion, Aziraphale looked to be struggling over a thought. “I mean, will they be… Well…” He looked to each of the four children, in-turn, before looking to their mother. “Like they are now.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “What, like, snakes, you mean?”

Aziraphale gave a guilty nod. “I-I’m not trying to say that there’s something wrong with it. With them.” He worried his bottom lip between his teeth for a second. Crowley’s smile returned. Now, his angel was just over-thinking it. “I love them. You know I do. I just wondered if…” He sighed. “Well, I just wondered if you thought they might have inherited your gift for… Well… Transmogrification.”

“Shape-shifting, angel,” Crowley corrected lightly. “Let them learn the easy words, first.” That got a smile. Still, Aziraphale carried that expression of guilt, which didn’t suit the demon, at all. “I know what you mean. And, honestly, I’m not sure.”

Blue eyes glanced up. “No?”

Crowley shook his head briefly, before catching himself. “I mean, I’d like to think so. They’ve certainly got the right personalities for it.”

“My dear, they’ve only just joined the world.” True, just hours prior, they had begun cracking their ways into existence, beyond their shells. They’d been checked, fed, and sleepy, in no time. Given the hours of waiting, watching, and caring for them, their parents were likewise ready for a nap. “How can you tell what their personalities are?”

Crowley’s lips turned up, in the softest expression he was sure he’d ever attempted. (If a full fifty-percent of that expression was smug satisfaction, then so be it. He’d earned it). “Easy,” he replied, looking the father of his children in the eyes. “I’m their mother.”

***

“Where in the f-.” Crowley paused, catching himself, at the last second. He leaned back, to peer through the doorway, and into the living room. Nah, they couldn’t hear him. Still, he bit his tongue. He’d promised Aziraphale, after all.

But, really, where, in every conceivable Circle of Hell, was his fucking plant mister?!

It had been going on for days, now. Every time he tried to find something, he felt like it wasn’t where he’d left it. Keys, cups, books… Crowley half-expected to come home to find the whole blessed flat moved slightly to the left. He was getting closer and closer to believing that, no, he wasn’t just imagining it. Which left only a handful of options:

1. Aziraphale was right, and pregnancy had left him a little light in the brain cells, and lax in memory.

2. Aziraphale thought he was being fucking funny, in hiding Crowley’s things.

3. The fucking place was haunted.

Honestly, he liked the third option the best. He was pretty sure he’d read that, somewhere, in the last century, that newborn babies could disrupt the peace and harmony of the spirit world. And, he’d had four of them.

Crowley cringed. On second thought, the first option was looking better and better.

Pausing, he took a deep breath, which he let back out slowly. Where hadn’t he looked? Well, no, really, where hadn’t he looked, by that point? He’d been through the bedroom, the bathroom, and he’d threatened the plants three separate times. (As expected, everyone was pretty well mum on the subject). Nothing was on the kitchen counters, but-Oh! Maybe, the cupboards. It stood to reason. After all, Aziraphale was always putting things back where they didn’t belong.

Bless him, his lover tried. His heart was in the right place, even if Crowley had no idea where the angel’s brain sometimes ended up.

Though, as of recently - as evidenced, at the moment - Crowley really was one to talk.

Well, the cupboards were as good an idea as any, he supposed. He made a sudden one-eighty, intent to saunter back to the kitchen. A shot of discomfort in his hips stopped him in his tracks. Crowley swallowed back a hiss, and shook his head. “Ow.” He rocked from side to side, a few times, stretching that one out, before continuing on his way. “Wish that would go away.” From the beginning of his pregnancy, he’d been plagued by aches to… most of his body. And, most of them had gone away, by the time he’d given birth. The hips, though. That pain had decided to stick around for a prolonged torment. The frequency, and severity had both lessened, but every now and then…

Crowley smiled, just a little. Every now and then, he’d get a reminder of how worthwhile the last six thousand years truly had been.

“Helps that you’re cute, too,” he murmured, as he passed by the most precious basket in all of Creation. He peeked in, smiling at the three slumbering sn-.

Three? Oh, Hell, not this again.

“Freddie, you little-.” That child was a terror, Crowley had concluded. Every time he turned his back, Freddie was out of the basket, and off on an adventure. He had no idea where the boy got it from. Honestly. One of Aziraphale’s hidden traits, he imagined.

And, promptly, he scoffed. ‘Hidden’. Sure.

Crowley continued toward the kitchen, already picturing the jar of biscuits, in his head, complete with his son, nibbling away on more sugar than any four children would ever need. (And, he would know).

“Somethin’ wrong, Mama?” came a voice from Aziraphale’s chair, across the room.

“Yeah, baby, don’t worry. I’ve just got to go find your brother.”

Wait. Wait, what?

Crowley stopped, mid-step, just to back up, a few paces. Poking his head back into the living room, he turned wide eyes toward the source of that voice. He was met by the stare of a pair of golden-coloured eyes, under a mop of messy, blonde curls. A little girl. Three, maybe four years old. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought someone’s child had wandered into his flat, by mistake.

“Uhhh,” he muttered helpfully, as he stepped closer to the girl. “Hi, there.”

She beamed. “Hi, Mama!” The child kicked her feet, under the weight of the heavy book that was open, atop her lap.

Yeah. Yeah, she was definitely one of his.

Crowley took another step. Floundered for a second, for something to say. “Sooo…” he began, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He rocked back on his heels, a couple of times. “Out of the basket, I see?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Daddy didn’t finish the story yet, and I wanna’ know what happened to th'dragon.” She held up the story book, a bit, for her mother to see.

“Ah-huh.” Crowley nodded slowly. So, she’d clearly gone from one end of the room to the other, powered by the knowledge that, at the end of her efforts, she would be rewarded with a book. Yeah. That sounded familiar. “And, you had to stretch your limbs, because…?”

What followed was the most indignant expression he’d ever encountered from a child. “How else was I gonna’ turn the pages?” She huffed, just a little, before glancing back down to the book. “I had t'stare at the same picture so long, I got bored.”

Crowley found himself staring, for a moment. And, when the first thought in his head was, Yeah, wait ‘til your Dad tries to take you to a gallery, he scrubbed a hand over his face. Blinked, a few times. Made sure he wasn’t hallucinating. He could hardly blame himself, on that last bit. It was borderline insane, what was happening. All right, all right, yes, he knew the day was likely to arrive, eventually, but… He was talking to his child. Talking with her, not just rambling on about nothing, and getting a tongue-flicker, in return. But, if he was talking to her…

Crowley took a moment to glance back at the basket, under the heat lamp. One, two-Yep. Still three of them. Well, he’d be blessed. He owed Freddie an apology.

Turning back to his most recent runaway, he squinted, trying to figure out which one she was. Pinky and Jeckle had the same colour eyes, so that was out, as an identifier. And, all three that remained in the basket were still sound asleep, curled up, and hiding any other telltale markings.

Ah, right. Markings. That was when he spotted it. Along the little girl’s side, near her ribs, Crowley could see the edges of what looked to be a fairly sizable birthmark. A blush-coloured birthmark.

Again, the demon found himself smiling. “Pinky.”

Pinky looked up again. “Yes, Mama?” She held his gaze, expectant, and Crowley felt something catch in his chest. It wasn’t just the blonde hair that gave her away as her father’s daughter.

Oh, Aziraphale was going to shit a brick.

Striding the rest of the way across the room, Crowley nabbed the book from his daughter’s hands. Before Pinky could give voice to the protest he could just feel was coming on, he lifted the child into his arms. “Come on, then,” he replied, finally, and dropped a kiss to Pinky’s cheek. She giggled, hugging her arms around his neck. Oh, motherhood was turning him into such a sap. He was going to be a puddle of goo, before too long. And, this was just the first!

“Where are we goin’?”

“To get some clothes on you.” Crowley grinned, carrying Pinky toward the bedroom. “Maybe, comb your hair. Can’t have you running around, in the altogether, when your father gets home.” Said father, he knew, was in for quite a surprise.

“He’d better be home, soon!” Pinky warned. “He’s got stories ta’ finish!”

Crowley threw his head back, in a laugh. Quite a surprise, indeed.

***

Later, while he and Aziraphale sat on the couch, accompanied by a bottle of wine, Crowley scrunched his nose, in thought. “Where did she even get 'Mama’ from, anyway?”

Aziraphale’s answer was just fucking typical. “Well, my dear, I’m sure it was from one of those dreadful television programs you like to watch, while they’re awake.”

Crowley didn’t even check to see if any of the children could see him, before he flipped their father off.

#Good Omens #Ineffable Husbands #Snake Babies #Just Like Your Father 'Verse

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