Tumgik
#the rest i tried i liked but none as much as these
midnightorchids · 2 days
Note
I love you and your writing. It makes me so happy to read your works!
Imagine Jason having his s/o move in with him. Imagine all the possibilities.
Like arranging the furniture together, showering together, taking turns cooking.
Or taking power naps together. I love me some soft Jason.
Omg stop!!! You’re literally so kind! Thank you for sending all these little scenarios, I always have so much fun writing them. Also, my apologies for getting back to you so late, I hope this little blurb makes up for it, enjoy reading!
Tumblr media
Jason stares at the small key in his large calloused hands and then at charcoal door in front of him. This is it, he thinks to himself. He runs his hands through his hair and then shifts his gaze to your face, it’s beaming with excitement. Jason tries to hold back his smile, but finds himself unable to do so. He reaches over to your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.
He’s waited for this moment for a long time. He’s dreamt of owning a place with you, of days where the both of you will go to sleep together and you’ll still be there in the morning. He’s dreamt of making you breakfast and kissing your forehead before you go to work or school and then have you come right back home… to him.
Jason’s emotional honestly, there’s something so tender and domestic about the idea of building a life together in this apartment.
The apartment, it’s not very big and the walls are an awful shade of grey. The paint is chipping in some places and there’s some obvious water damage. But none of that matters because it’s yours. It’s your home and that thought alone is enough for you and Jason to be happy.
You’re both sitting in the empty kitchen, unpacking your boxes and Jason can imagine spending the rest of his life here with you.
He takes a mental picture of the moment, tucking it deep in his mind and engraving it in his heart. He hasn’t been able to stop smiling since he walked in through the door, he feels content, at peace.
You and Jason spent weeks scavenging through different vintage shops to find the perfect decor and furniture. There were countless trips to Ikea and multiple trips to the mall.
All of it was coming together now.
The thought of saying “our home” instead of “my house” made Jason feel giddy. He finally had a place to call his own with a person who felt like serenity.
Hours go by and you’re still working on getting your new place sorted.
You’re both sprawled out on the living room floor, putting together your new coffee table. There’s screws scattered across the floor and bubble wrap on the couch. There’s music playing on one of your phones as the speaker is still packed away in one of the boxes.
“This is so much fun! It’s like building life size legos,” Jason suddenly exclaims and you stare at him unamused, the hours of working finally catching up to you.
“Shut up Jay! You’re talking too much, I lost my page again,” you reply looking back at the paper manual in your hands, trying to find your page again. Jason looks up at you with a small pout.
“Don’t be mean, you know I’m sensitive,” he tries to say seriously, but the little smile on his face says otherwise. you shuffle over to his side on the floor and ruffle his hair.
“Aw I’m sorry baby, I’ll be nicer,” you say, realizing it might be time to take a break. “Should we postpone building furniture for a bit, I’m starving.” His face lights up and before you know it, he’s already in the kitchen gathering ingredients to make you soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. There’s not much in the fridge, but he’ll make do with what’s there.
You stare at him from across the room and this time, it’s your turn to click a mental photograph of the moment. He looks beautiful in your new kitchen, his hair’s messy, it’s in his eyes and he takes a second to push away the bangs. Then, he continues working away near the stove, humming along to the song playing on your phone. You can’t help, but admire him. You look forward to seeing him like this forever.
You make your way over to the kitchen and take a seat on the island counter, opposite to the stove. Jason tosses the final bit of ingredients in the pot and lets everything simmer. He looks over at you, leaning against the counter. He crosses his large arms against his body, his face soft and relaxed.
“I’m really happy, you know,” he says, grinning, and you scrunch your face into a big smile.
“I know Jay, I’m so happy too.”
239 notes · View notes
batsythoughts · 2 days
Text
As per the results of the poll, here is Yandere! Jason Todd with baby trapping! These are all going to be written as AFAB
Warnings: Possessive tendencies, manipulative behavior and actions, dubious consent (technically all will be), forced pregnancy (obviously), I don't really know what else to put. Let me know if there is more I should add
Smut under the cut. Minors please do not interact with this post
You and Jason had been going out for about 7 months when the whole thought had formed in his head
You had said that you and some coworkers were going to a bar nearby to get some bonding time away from work
Jason, being the loving and caring boyfriend, offered to go and make sure none of you had too much to drink
He mostly wanted to go and make sure your coworkers are good enough people for you to spend time with
Your time was precious to the both of you, and he didn't want it to be wasted on anyone who wasn't going to be good for you
You both got to the bar before your coworkers, so Jason left you to get the first round of drinks while he quickly went to the bathroom
It didn't take him more than 8 minutes before he came back out
He stopped in his tracks as he saw some guy standing beside you as he attempted to flirt with you
Jason could see you trying to politely end the conversation from where he was. Why you think of flirting back when you had him to take care of you like you deserved?
Jason came walking over and wrapped his arm around your waist. Innocently leaning in to place a kiss behind your ear while asking who your new 'friend' was
The guy looks Jason up and down with a scoff as he pushes off the bar. Making a comment you leading him on and he would wait for when you changed your mind under his breath while walking away
Jason glared at him as he held you closer. Gently guiding you to a booth in the corner after your coworkers finally showed up
Jason didn't pay attention to the conversation as he stared the guy down from the other side of the bar
The grip on his glass gets tighter as he watched this guy talk with his buddies while gesturing in your direction
Jason smirked as he made eye contact with the guy, enjoying the terrified look on his face
Tilting your head to face Jason, he leaned in for a deep kiss. Drawing out the action for a few seconds before pulling away to glance back at the guy. Proud of himself when the guy looks away and stops talking
You lightly push Jason while saying not to do that in public
But the bashful smile on your face when he looks back at your face tells him that you enjoyed it just as much as he did
Your coworkers laugh while joking about getting that kind of affection from their significant others
The rest of the evening goes by quickly with a couple of drinks in everyone's system as 10 o'clock comes rolling around
Jason gently guides you back into your shared apartment, his hands resting on your hips to keep you from stumbling
He carefully changed you into your sleepwear before making you drink a glass of water and have a small snack before putting you to bed
After making sure you were sound asleep, Jason goes to the bathroom to begin his nightly routine
His blood boils as he thinks about what that guy had said to you
How dare anyone think that you would ever be available again when you had Jason? He was the one that was going to be with you until the end of your lives!
He tried to think of a way that could make it clear that you were Jason's and he was your's till death do you part
He begins to pull his vitamins out of the medicine cabinet while he brushed his teeth. A low groan sounding from him as a few different medications fall out by accident
He begins to put each of them back in their space when his hands stop as he stares at one specific medicine
Your birth control pills
He looked them over as he noticed you still had half a month left until you would need a refill. Hell, it looked like your doctor would need to write you a new prescription when this was gone
The gears in his head turned as he had an idea formed in his head
After all, no contraceptive is truly able to prevent pregnancy entirely
Looking back into the bedroom through the bathroom door, Jason watched for a moment as you slept
He knew that the two of you would be together for a long time to come. You were the one that he was planning to settle down and have a family with, and he was certain you felt the same way.
Would it really be so bad if he just made the process go by just a bit quicker than agreed upon?
Finishing up in the bathroom, Jason changed into new underwear and a tank top before slipping into bed
Wrapping his arms around you, he lightly kissed your cheek as he whispered that he would make sure everyone knew you were his
The next couple of days went by normally as Jason slowly began to get his plan set into motion
He got a few placebo birth control packs that looked basically similar to the ones that you had
When you called in to get the refill and the new prescription, he offered to go and get it for you so you didn't have to worry about it after you got off of work
When he went to grab it, he began to go over the explanation for the new packaging in his head for when you did get home that night
He smiled when he got back and expertly opened the box and switching out the real birth control with the placebos he had gotten for you
Jason put the box back together as he threw the birth control in the trash to take it out so you wouldn't find it by accident
When you got home, Jason went up to you to give you a loving kiss as he began to ask about your day
He listens with interest as you tell him about all the drama that had happened with all your coworkers
At one point you did look at him while asking if he remembered to get your pills
He grinned while saying he did. Pretending to remember the pharmacist had said that the brand of birth control had changed looks but it should still work just as well
Jason begins to get into your space while placing kisses and nips at the skin of your neck as you stand in the kitchen to figure out what to do for dinner
You laugh while leaning into his touch, asking him what had gotten into him so suddenly
Jason smiled as his hands roamed down your body, resting on your stomach for a moment before beginning to undo the buttons of your pants
"Can't a guy just want his beautiful girl? I just want to show just how much I love you."
The truth though was that he was already getting excited of the thought of you becoming pregnant in the next few months
Jason could barely contain himself as he celebrated the last night you were on the birth control by fucking it out of you
Jason still had to be patient with his process as he waited for the medicine to make its way out of your bloodstream entirely
He did research to figure out ways to try and make a successful pregnancy happen: positions to try, making healthier foods to prepare your body for the changes, symptoms to look for after the attempt of trying
Each time you called in a refill, Jason would go and 'pick it up' for you so you didn't worry about it
After about four months, Jason finally decided it would be a good time to finally begin to putting the last part of his plan into action
He had been tracking your cycle thoroughly over the past months, so he knew which night that you were ovulating
He had put together a small movie night while also ordering some of your favorite take out before starting his strategy
He even drew a small bubble bath for you to soak in after you got off of work while he got everything set up for the night
As you were in the bathroom, Jason double checked everything to make sure that it would work out in his favor, hopefully
With the both of you in comfortable clothing, the TV plays the movies that he had picked out to help set the mood
You laugh while eating the food he got, occasionally sharing bites of the others food
Jason's lips would land on your skin every once in awhile as he begins getting excited for what was going to happen in the next few hours
When the food was gone, Jason went to the kitchen area again as he threw the trash away and the silverware in the sink
He let out a deep breath to compose himself as he looked over at you. His heart racing as he gently palms his growing erection before going back to the couch
He let the movie continue in the background as he gently rubbed his hand over your thigh
He smiled as he watched the screen to try and hold out for a bit longer before going on with his plan
Eventually his eagerness outweighs his patience as his hand slides up your thigh
Jason gently nudges your cheek with his nose. Smiling when you look at him before he begins to kiss you
The small sigh that comes from you strokes at Jason's ego as his fingers slip past the waistband of both your pants and underwear
His fingers circle your clit carefully as he continues to kiss you lovingly
His gentle actions get slightly more confident as he gladly takes in the soft moans that you let out
Jason pulls away from your lips as he feels your thighs begin to tense up, smiling to himself as he draws out the first of many orgasms for the night
He rest his head against yours as he slowly moved his fingers down as be used them to fuck you through your orgasm and into the next one
"That's a good girl. You gonna keep taking what I give you like the good girl I know you are?"
Jason expertly pulls two more orgasms from you before he finally let's up. Kissing you gently before guiding you to the bedroom to get on with his plan
He eagerly tugged of your clothes before laying you down on the bed. Staring you down as he stripped his own clothes off
Opening the nightstand drawer, Jason reached in and pulled out a box of condoms
Jason opened it before cursing while tossing it back into the drawer
You sit up slightly while asking him what was wrong
He said he forgot to restock on condoms since the last time you all got intimate
It wasn't a complete lie though. He had known that he ran out the last time, but he had planned to run out for this moment before he had to restart the process again with the next box
He took a few deep breaths while saying it would be fine and he could go calm down with a shower and then you both could continue with the movie night when he was done
Your chest heaved slightly as you looked at him from the bed. Looking him over while thinking over your options.
"It's just one night. I'm sure it will be alright to not use a condom one time."
Jason smiled as he double checked, even though he knew the answer would stay the same
You were his special love after all. Always so eager to please him no matter the situation it would put you in
Or in this case, the situation he would be putting in you starting tonight
He didn't give you a chance to rethink the decision before climbing onto the bed
Grabbing one of the pillows, he flipped you over and placed it under your stomach
This was a normal position for Jason to put you in, he always did when he was feeling extra intense that night
How thankful he was that he didn't have to worry about explaining why he was doing it tonight
He had read somewhere in his research that it could increase the chances of getting pregnant and how he was so hopeful it would work
Jason rests one hand on your thigh while the other goes to your back while gently pushing you into the bed
He carefully pushed into you with a deep sigh, his nails digging into your skin at the feeling of you clenching around his cock
Jason starts out by slowly pulling out halfway before sinking all the way back in. Keeping that pace with a low moan as he lightly pulled you to him with each thrust
He didn't want you to get overstimulated so quickly into the night by simply railing you into the mattress
Despite how good Jason was feeling, he couldn't help but feel that something was already off
Looking towards your face, he quickly noticed you biting the fabric of the pillow your head was resting on
Oh, that wouldn't do at all
The hand on your back slid up to reach around and grasp at your throat. Softly tilting your head up as he leaned onto your back to whisper in your ear
"I thought you were being my good girl tonight. Cause last I checked, good girls don't try hiding the noises they make."
To emphasize his point, Jason pulled out before harshly pulling you back to meet his hips
The startled whine you let out vibrated under his hand made Jason smirk as he placed a condescending kiss to your cheek
"Just like that. Now don't make me have to tell you to be good again."
With that, Jason leaned back up while resting both hands on your hips
This time he used his grip to pull your hips back to meet his, never once speeding up on the original pace he set
He let out a light groan when he felt you push against his pelvis each time he pulled you back to him
Jason could tell you were getting closer to another orgasm by the way your walls started to clamp down on his cock
He slipped a hand down to rub your clit in small circles. His own need to find release rising steadily as he rocks his hips against yours
Jason bit his lip as he pushed his hips flush to yours as he finally came. Your own orgasm following close behind as let out a soft cry
Normally, Jason would bask in the after haze of both of your orgasms, but tonight was different
Tonight he was on a mission as he slowly began grinding against you
Jason shushed your whines as you said it was too much
He leaned back down kiss along your neck as he let out a small moan at how you still were spasming on his cock
"Come one, baby. You got one more in ya. Just one more tonight. Come on, baby. For me, please."
Lord, how could you say no to such a reasonable request from your dear boyfriend?
Soon, 'one more' turned turned into a two hour session with Jason coming inside you 5 more times
He littered kisses along your neck as he gently rolled you onto your back. Mumbling praise of how well you did for him while slowly standing up
Going to the kitchen and bathroom, Jason made sure to have you drink some water before wiping you down with a warm cloth
He smiled while watching you fall asleep from the intensity of your love making session
He was extra gentle in the area of your crotch so he wouldn't wipe every bit of his cum
He knew both of you were clean so the only thing to worry about was the night he would eventually get you pregnant
Jason kissed the crown of your head while whispering that he would help you with a shower in the morning before making you breakfast as a reward
Jason made sure to pay extra attention to your behaviors over the next couple of weeks
You didn't show any regular signs that you were pregnant with what he had looked up in all his research
The only thing that matched was the fact you would get headaches when you got home from work, but that wasn't too unusual from the normal
It was over a month since that night and Jason was worried that he would have to wait another couple of months to try again
He was currently finishing up making some spaghetti for dinner as you sat on the couch while on the phone with one of your relatives
He quickly called out saying that it was ready while you smiled at him with a small nod
He watched as you stood up as your voice trailed off while trying to say good bye
Jason's heart plummeted as he watched you drop your phone and fall to the ground
He rushed over while checking you over for any injuries from the fall
You blinked up at him while taking a few deep breaths as you regain your bearings
Jason quickly grabs your phone while saying you would call back later before hanging up
He quickly helped you get up while saying you were going to the doctor to get checked out
His mind raced as he helped you to the car and began driving to the nearest walk-in clinic from your apartment building
He worried profusely as he quickly got you checked into the waiting room
He paced in the exam room as the two of you waited for the doctor to come and check on you
When she finally arrived, Jason and you both explained what had happened in detail while she listened to every worry
She quickly suggested that you do a quick blood and urine tests to see if they couldn't figure out what could be wrong
Jason held your hand when you gave the vial of blood and waited outside the bathroom door in case you would need him
The two of you sat in the room as you both wondered what could be wrong with you with genuine concern
When the doctor came back in, you both stared at her as she sat down in her chair with a smile
"We did a few quick test and found what caused the fainting spell. You're pregnant."
She continues to go on about how you probably had low iron due to the new life growing inside of you
Jason gave a breathless laugh as his mind finally calmed down
He had actually done it. You were pregnant with only one try from him
You quickly stammered out that you were on birth control and that it should be almost impossible for you to be pregnant with how religiously you took the medicine
The doctor shifts while saying that while it unlikely to get pregnant, it wasn't impossible even with so many precautions on either sides part
She quickly began giving the two of you the options that could be taken for carrying to term or a few other clinics that could help with a termination and mediation you would need for either option
Jason had to hold his tongue at the suggested of an abortion. He couldn't scare you into this by saying that was not happening before you thought about it.
Besides, he knew you would come to the right decision in the end no matter what you said at this moment
He held your hand while asking what you wanted to do with the whole baby situation
You were silent for a minute as you bite your lip. Squeezing his hand while looking into his eyes before giving a small nod with a shaky 'okay'
Jason smiled as he returned your nod while looking back at the doctor while listening to all her suggestions on the medicines you would be put on to getting in touch with a couple of OBGYNs for who you would want to be the doctor you would have for the baby
Jason felt over the moon while driving back to the apartment. One hand resting on your thigh as he thought of the next few months that would come
He made sure to keep you steady while getting you back to the apartment
He began talking about some things you would need to do for when the baby would arrive as he reheated the spaghetti
He looked up to look at you to see you aren't in the room anymore
He waited as you came out from the bathroom with 'birth control' packet he had picked up just last week
He watched as you threw it in the trash with a huff before looking at him again with a smile
Jason returned it as he leaned in for a kiss while rubbing his hand over your stomach
He quickly pulled away to kneel down on the ground while lifting your shirt up
You laugh while asking what he was doing
He smiled up at you before placing a soft kiss just above your bellybutton
"Kissing the two most important people in my life."
He wouldn't forget the small twinkle in your eyes as you looked down at him
He got back on his feet before getting you a plate of spaghetti to eat. Adamant that you needed to eat everything to properly feed the baby as well
The night continues on with small chatter of plans for a nursery and telling everyone the big news
Jason couldn't help the proud smile on his face as the night continued on
He had done it. You would now have a reminder that you were meant to be with him for the rest of your life. That now every guy knows they couldn't ever stand a chance of being with you like Jason was.
He gently kissed you again while wondering if you would potentially get on birth control again after the baby was born
Oh well, it's not like 'accidents' can't simply repeat themselves later on in life
The next few weeks, Jason slowly gets to share all the information that he researched with you with the excuse of looking it up after finding out you were pregnant
He had even started to buy those corny parent shirts online and wore them any chance he got
He would smile every time you both went out and older couples would always congratulate the two of you if they happened to notice
He was so happy when your bump finally began to show. He would always have at least one hand on you at all times
He moment he felt a kick for the first time, hearts appeared in his eyes as he looked at you in awe
The best thing to happen in public was one day you were just grabbing a few things at the store for snacks along with a couple of onesies that Jason thought were absolutely adorable
You were getting to the six month mark so it was beginning to get a bit harder for you to lean down like you once had
He was wait for you to decide which can of fruit you were going to have he grab when he looked down the aisle
Jason immediately recognized the guy from that night in the bar looking at you with a smirk on his face
The smirk quickly fell when he meets Jason's cold glare
You didn't even notice the attention as you pointed to a can on the very bottom at the back
Jason didn't miss a beat as he leans down to grab the can for you. Placing a soft kiss on your bump as he stood again
Jason wrapped his arm around you as you began to walk down the aisle to see if there was anything else you needed
Jason continues to glare the guy down with his own smirk. Bringing his hand up to drag his thumb over his neck
The guy became startled as he rushed out of the aisle from the clear threat from your 'protective' boyfriend
Jason smiled as you continued to guide him through the last few aisles before going to check out
This would definitely be one of his personal favorite moments that happened in public during this pregnancy
Because it was just proof that you were always going to be his for as long as you both breathe
124 notes · View notes
scuderiahoney · 4 hours
Text
Tumblr media
Oscar Piastri x Reader // In Motion Pt. 5
Summary: one plane ride, a little sunburn, and far too many margaritas to count. 6.0k words
Warnings: alcohol, mention of previous sports injury
It’s a lazy Saturday morning. You’d showed up at the house an hour ago and planted yourself on the couch. Charles had been in the overstuffed armchair, and he’d barely batted an eye when you walked in, too engrossed in his TV show. Lando and Max had wandered downstairs eventually, and piled onto the couch with you. One by one, everyone else wakes up and comes downstairs. They have practice in a couple hours, but none of them are in a rush. Instead, they all choose to scatter around the living room. Charles turns on Planet Earth. Everyone’s engrossed by it.
“Hey, my aunt wants to know if we still want the house for spring break,” George says, looking up from his phone as a school of fish swims by on the TV screen.
Lando, whose head was previously buried under a pillow, sits up. “Obviously.”
“The house?” Oscar asks, and when everyone turns to look at him, he deflates. “Sorry, none of my business.”
George’s phone rings, and he answers and wanders off into the kitchen, chattering away. You’re perked up now, blinking around the room. There are smiles on everyone’s faces, now, at the mention of spring break. You’re all in desperate need of some time off.
Max turns to look at Oscar, arms raised above his head in a stretch. “Piastri. D’you have any plans for the break?”
“Not really?” He says, shrugging.
Max nods. “Cool. You do now.”
Max flops back over onto the couch, and so does Lando, effectively burying you once again.
Oscar turns to look at you, brows furrowed. “What did I just sign up for?”
You sit up from underneath Lando and Max, who groan loudly. “George’s aunt has a really nice beach house. We go there for spring break.”
Oscar raises his eyebrows. “Oh. You know, I didn’t mean to invite myself, and you guys-“
“Shut up,” Lando says, face half buried in the arm of the couch. “You’re going. It’s tradition.”
…..
The only thing worse than navigating an airport is doing it early in the morning with 6 hockey players in tow. You’d think they’d be good at travel with all the away games, but they’re not used to having to get themselves places. Lando almost leaves his luggage at the house, Max almost forgets his whole wallet, and you’re sure Alex would’ve been left behind completely if it wasn’t for Lily. Oscar’s the only self sufficient one, likely because he’s been living on his own for so long now. You think of him having to travel to games with his old team, wonder if he wandered around airports alone, and your chest aches. But he’s next to you, smiling brightly, suitcase in hand and clad in a hoodie and sweatpants. Lando’s ordering a beer from the bar. It’s 6am.
Max tries to usher the whole group towards the gate, like he hasn’t been the most scatterbrained person all morning. You let him feel like he’s in charge. It helps his ego. It’s not long before people get distracted- George wants a bagel, Charles wants to look at souvenirs, which is ridiculous considering you haven’t left yet, and Lily wants coffee. Max looks panicked as everyone starts to wander.
You clear your throat. “Okay. Lily, George, and I are going to that coffee shop,” you say, pointing at the one nearest your gate, “to get breakfast and coffee. Charles and Max will go in the shop. The rest of you can join whichever group, or you can wait at the gate. We’ll all be back here in 20 minutes.”
Max looks relieved, even as Charles drags him towards a stand full of license plate magnets with names on them. You head for the coffee shop, and find Oscar’s opted to join, too. Lando and Alex stay at the gate, guarding all the suitcases.
An hour later, you’re all seated on the plane, much to your and Max’s relief. George booked the flights for everyone so he could use his parents’ airline miles, and so you have no idea where you’re sitting until you actually get on the plane. You slip into your window seat, and Oscar stops at your row with a smile. He’s in the middle. George is on his other side. Up ahead, you see Lily, Alex, and Charles, and Max and Lando in front of them. You pity whoever the stranger is that will have to put up with Max and Lando in their row. Oscar helps put your carry on up above, and everyone settles in for the flight.
After takeoff, you push the window shade up. The sun is just barely starting to rise, and you’re already exhausted. Oscar leans close to peer out the window. He hums softly, pointing down below.
“You can see the house from here,” he points out, and you laugh.
He’s right. You can. The house, the ice rink, the soccer fields, they all disappear below. You wave goodbye, and Oscar laughs and does the same. Then you lean over and fall asleep, head resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t seem to mind.
…..
The eight of you descend on the beach house in a flurry of activity. It’s bright and sunny out, and you all wear sunglasses as you haul the luggage into the house. George points everyone to their rooms- you’re glad to learn you have the same one for the third year in a row, up on the second floor, with a nice view of the ocean and a room to yourself. Lando and Oscar are sharing, as are Max and Charles. Lily and Alex get a room, and George gets his own room. Charles offers to take your luggage upstairs for you, and you accept happily.
By the time everyone returns downstairs, you’ve made a grocery list. Max looks at it over your shoulder and nods in approval. There’s a little store within walking distance that should have everything you need. When Max suggests you all go to help carry bags, Lando groans loudly, already complaining about a headache or a sore back or whatever ailment will get him out of it. In the end, it’s you, Max, Charles, and Oscar who head off to the grocery store.
When you get back, you unload things in the kitchen, the four of you moving around each other with ease. Oscar drops the juice and you giggle, Charles hugs the bag of cheese puffs to his chest like a little kid, and Max starts pulling ingredients to make a late lunch.
“M’hungry,” Lando calls out.
“Thought you had a headache,” you call back, smirking as he walks into the kitchen.
“Back ache,” he corrects, smiling sheepishly. “Come on, you know plane seats suck.”
You roll your eyes at him, but you hand him the bottle of painkillers you picked up at the store. He gives you an easy side hug in thanks. Lando offers to help Max make lunch, and you retreat to the back deck for the first time this trip. You breathe in deep as the sun hits your skin, as the sound of the ocean fills your ears. It feels like the whole world is in front of you, stretching on and on.
Oscar walks out behind you, doing basically the same. “Wow.”
Alex and Lily are down near the water, and when he spots the two of you, he waves you over. “Low tide!” He calls out, grinning widely. “There’s starfish!”
You turn to Oscar with a grin, and then the two of you run down the shore to meet them. The stress of the school year starts to slip off your shoulders. For now, it’s just sun and sand and nothing else.
…..
Spring break, as it always does and definitely should, tastes like pineapple and coconut rum and frozen margaritas made in the ancient blender that somehow still works. It smells like sunscreen, the reef safe kind that Oscar insists everyone uses. It feels like sand stuck between your toes, like the crash of the waves against your legs, like the heat of the sun on your skin.
“Why couldn’t you guys be, like, professional surfers?” You ask, face half pressed into the giant beach towel you’re laying on. “This is where I’m supposed to spend all my time, not in an ice box.”
Max laughs and tosses a foam football at you. ���You chose the school, too, you know. And you love watching hockey.”
“Max would be shit at surfing,” Charles pipes up, and though his eyes are hidden behind sunglasses you can tell they’re crinkled with amusement. “He is not very good at balance. Like Bambi.”
Max scoffs, picks up the ball he’d thrown at you, and chucks it at Charles’ head. Charles dodges it with a squeak and runs after it in the sand. Max follows, likely afraid of the retaliation that’s coming his way.
“Osc, you’re from Australia,” you say. “Have you surfed?”
Oscar’s laid out next to you, in the shaded portion of the blanket thanks to the umbrella George put up. He burns easily, apparently. You’d told him that you weren’t surprised, based solely on the pale tone of his skin, and he’d glared at you unhappily and then chased you into the waves. Now he lays there, face smashed against the blanket, same as you. It’s mid afternoon. He’s usually a bit sleepy in the afternoons, you’ve found.
He nods, prying one eye open. “Not any good, though.”
You scoff out a laugh. He grins back at you. There’s sand stuck in his eyebrow, and you’re about to reach out and brush it away when a shadow falls over you. You look up and find George standing there. Lily, Lando and Alex are following him up the beach.
“Margarita time?” George asks, grinning happily. You push yourself halfway up, propping up on your elbows, and nod your head. “It’s always margarita time, Georgie.”
Dinner that night is grilled shrimp and veggies and bread warmed up in the oven that all the boys eat too much of, promising not to tell their coaches. Someone asks Oscar to say “throw another shrimp on the Barbie,” which then devolves into bad attempts at Australian accents, which then further devolves into bad attempts at everyone’s accents. You’re left laughing so hard your stomach hurts, the sun setting, the warm ocean air washing over your arms on the back deck.
Oscar’s sitting next to you, and he wipes your tears of laughter away with a napkin and says, “You alright, love?” in what can only be a bad attempt at Lando’s accent.
You snort with laughter. The noise sends Oscar into a fit of giggles, too, and soon the two of you are bent over in your chairs, heads bumping into each others, as Lando tries to insist he doesn’t sound like that and Max assures him that he definitely does. When you finally catch your breath and sit up, they’re moving on to mocking Sebastian’s accent, because they always start making fun of their coach eventually. Lily’s watching you, though, a knowing look in her eyes.
You sit on the beach blanket next to the water after dinner, another margarita in your hand. There’s far too much salt on the rim- courtesy of Alex, who’d coated nearly the whole cup in it- which makes it taste a bit like the ocean. Oscar’s sitting next to you, a cup of his own in his hand. The sun is low in the sky, the horizon turning the lightest shade of purple as it turns to night. Oscar’s bare thigh brushes against yours, and you hold your breath.
The back door to the house slides open, and you turn to look. It’s Charles. “We are going to the store,” he calls out. “Are you coming?”
You wrinkle your nose. “None of you are driving, right?”
Charles shakes his head. “We will walk. We want snacks, and we are out of tequila.”
You nod. “I’ll stay here!”
“Me too,” Oscar adds.
“Okay, I am trusting you two,” Charles teases. “Don’t burn the house down.”
Charles calls out something unintelligible and probably not in English. Inside, you hear Max yell for him, also not in English. The door shuts. Oscar sucks in a sharp breath. There’s tequila in your bloodstream and salt on your lips and the heat of his leg next to yours. You close your eyes, the sea breeze dancing over your skin, and you can still feel his lips on your cheek after that game, weeks ago now. You sit for a while, basking in it.
A few minutes later, present day Oscar’s shoulder bumps against yours. You open your eyes and turn to look at him. His cheeks are rosy pink. You wonder if he’d put enough sunscreen on.
“This is really nice,” he says, softly.
The sand is turning cold beneath your feet. You shiver slightly. He leans into you, warm arm pressed to yours, thigh pressing tighter against your skin. Your heart stutters in your chest.
“Mhm,” you agree, blinking softly at him and biting your lower lip, just to watch and see the way his eyes dart across your face. “George’s aunt is a sweetheart for letting us stay here.”
Oscar hums in agreement, but he shakes his head, hair flopping over his forehead in a soft swoop. “I meant… this.”
He nudges his leg against yours. Your stomach lurches in the best kind of way. He’s leaning back on the heels of his hands and staring at you while the waves crash onto the shore. His thumb brushes against the back of your hand, tiny grains of sand rolling between his skin and yours. You feel the electricity simmer up your arm and zap down your spine.
“Oh. Yeah,” you say, nodding in agreement. “It is.”
You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry or scream. He’s so close you swear you can feel his heartbeat, or maybe it’s just yours, pounding in your chest, going wild over the way he’s staring at you. He lifts his hand from the sand, the one farthest from you, keeps his other arm pressed to yours as he turns just slightly. When his hand comes up to cup your cheek, it feels so familiar. You remember blue paint on his thumb, brushed off on his pants, the poster leaning against the wall and his lips on your cheek. You want it again. You want more. You swear he leans in.
There’s a loud noise from inside the house, and he drops his hand into his lap. Your heart twists in your chest. You can feel the ghost of his fingertips on your skin when the back door opens. George yells something about playing flip cup. You don’t want to play flip cup- you want to stay here with Oscar and let him kiss you like you thought he was going to. But his hand is in his lap now, and he smiles sheepishly and starts to stand up, and you wonder if you imagined all of it.
…..
Two nights later, when everyone has gone to bed, you find yourself still wide awake. You’re buzzing, probably from the afternoon coffee you grabbed with Charles and Oscar at the cafe down the street. Max had said it was a bad idea. Charles is dead asleep upstairs, because caffeine has never really affected him. You’re busy thinking about two nights ago, Oscar’s hand on your face and the way he looked at you. You know it happened. You swear it happened. He’d been about to kiss you. Right? Maybe you're imagining things. Maybe it’s all in your head.
You’re sitting on the couch near the window, the glass of water Max poured you before he went to bed sitting half empty in your hand. You nearly spill it when someone clears their throat. You know without turning to look that it’s Oscar.
You stare out the window at the ocean. “Might go take a walk down by the water,” you suggest, just to see if he takes the bait.
Oscar hums. “I’d better go with. For safety, you know.”
You nod in agreement, not really seeing the need to protest. It’s a silly excuse, but you want him to come with. The two of you head for the doors, slipping in sandals along the way. The night air is cool, and you shiver slightly as you make your way down the beach. The sand is still sun warmed but cooling fast. The crash of the waves against the shore makes you sigh softly.
Oscar’s only a few steps behind you. The moon isn’t out yet, but you catch sight of a few stars in the sky. You stop at the spot where the waves meet the sand, and he walks up next to you. When you turn to look over your shoulder, all the lights in the house are off except the living room light the two of you left on. Oscar looks, too, and then steps closer. You feel like you should hold your breath, but you don’t. The air smells like salt. You wonder if the smell has seeped into Oscar’s hair and skin, or if he still smells like his shampoo and body wash. You hate that you know the scents of both.
“I love the ocean,” Oscar says, not for the first time that day.
You nod. “Me too.”
His fingers brush against yours where your hands hang at your sides. It sends a zap all the way up your arm, straight to your spine. Does he feel it too? That giddy feeling in your chest? The anxious feeling in the back of your brain? The want, deep in your gut, that makes you want to turn and press your lips to his. Does he feel it, too? You’d take a kiss on the forehead. Or another kiss on the cheek. Or just- if he would just move his hand a couple inches, just intertwine your fingers with his-
Like he’s read your mind, he does. He twists his fingers between yours loosely. You nearly choke on your own breath. Get it together. Your heart aches. You need, you want, does he?
“I…” he starts, then stops.
You turn. He’s already looking at you, face half lit up by the light on the back deck of the house. His lips look soft. They were, the one time you’ve felt them, pressed to your cheek in that hallway. His fingers fidget in yours, but he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either. The waves crash onto the shore over and over again. The sleeve of his hoodie brushes against your jaw when he cups the side of your face in his other hand. This time, you’re sure of it. You know what’s coming. He leans in, and you close your eyes.
If a kiss on the cheek sent butterflies wild in your stomach, this sends them through your whole body. Every nerve is on fire when his lips meet yours. Maybe it’s just because you’ve been waiting for so long. He’s warm against you, and his hand leaves your wrist to wrap around your waist and pull you close, and he tastes like rum and salt and smells like sunscreen. You tilt your head and let him deepen the kiss, let him take the lead, let him in. He’s smiling into it, and it makes your heart ache. When you tangle your hands in his hair, you can feel the sand stuck there, can feel the salt that still coats the strands from his swim earlier in the day. His hand slips to the back of your neck to hold you closer, and you melt for him, for the way he holds you so carefully and so surely, the warmth of him burning up your skin. He giggles into the kiss, light and airy and so Oscar it almost hurts, and you can’t help but match it.
He kisses you for what feels like forever. You can’t find it in you to complain.
…..
The rest of spring break tastes like coconut rum and tequila and Oscar. It feels like sun and sand and his hand wrapped up in yours, sneaking away at any chance you get. It smells like sunscreen and his cologne on the hoodie you stole from him, and it sounds like seagulls and his laughter, and the words he whispers into your ears when nobody’s nearby.
He steals you away while you’re in town, wandering the shops with everyone. He’s good at melting away into a crowd- and it is crowded, it’s spring break and everyone’s had the same idea as you. You hide in a souvenir store while you watch your friends disappear, and you don’t even feel guilty about it. You can’t, not when Oscar’s tangling his fingers with yours and pointing at a little beaded bracelet he says would look good on you. When he takes it up to the counter and buys it, and then loops it around your wrist for you, you feel absolutely giddy. You feel it even more when he kisses your temple sweetly. You rejoin the group a while later, just as they’re starting to worry. Nobody notices the bracelet, but you run your fingers over the beads all day.
Later in the week, he suggests a trip to the ice cream shop when everyone’s half asleep, mid afternoon. You’re tired, too, but when he says it, you suddenly feel wide awake. Once the two of your are out of sight of the house, he pulls you under his arm, hand squeezing at your shoulder the whole walk there. He buys you ice cream and shares his with you, too, and when he stops to kiss you on the walk back he tastes sweeter than ever.
There’s a lot of that- kissing. Anytime the two of you are alone. It’s overwhelming in the best way. Like the two of you have been holding back for so long that you can’t quite find it in you to stop. You sneak out of your rooms after everyone has gone to bed and meet on the beach at night, just the sea and the stars bearing witness as it all falls into place. You point out constellations, and Oscar tells you about the night sky in Australia, and how it feels different here. He finds you seashells admiring the way and gives them to you at night, and you start doing the same, each of you building up collections. They cover the empty space on the nightstand in your room.
One afternoon, you walk to the park nearby, all together, with a little picnic. It’s sweet- Max and Lando throw a football back and forth, and you sit in the grass and have cheese and crackers and fruit and watch people pass by. Eventually, George, Alex, and Lily head back to start dinner, and then Max, Lando, and Charles leave to pick up drinks on the way home. You and Oscar linger, though. They make it so easy to sneak away, really. You take the chance to lay on the blanket with him, your bed on his stomach, staring up at puffy white clouds in the big blue sky. His hand draws patterns on your shoulders.
When you finally head for the house, you walk past a set of soccer goals on a patch of grass. It’s easier, now, especially because it’s not the field where you got hurt. Oscar squeezes your hand anyways. It’s sweet. Something makes you slow to a stop. There’s a ball sitting there, in the middle of the field, black and white in stark contrast to the green. You drop his hand, and he makes a mild sound of protest. You walk over to the ball and toe at it gingerly, feeling the way it rolls under your foot.
He just eyes you carefully,
“We’ll take it easy,” you promise, and he nods. “I just…”
You can’t explain it. For years, you’ve never wanted to go near a soccer field or goal or ball. For years, this idea has brought tears to your eyes. But right now, you want to try. Oscar takes a step closer. He’s smiling.
You kick the ball at his feet. He passes it lightly back to you. The two of you exchange a look and take off down the grass together. You zig zag to every corner of the grass, not trying to get anywhere in any sort of hurry. You build up speed as you get closer and close to the goal, passing the ball back and forth with him. It feels good, to move your body and feel the grass beneath your feet. To feel the ball bounce off your shoe, to watch him accept the pass that you’ve placed so perfectly. You’re rusty, stiff, out of practice, but a little part of this still feels like home. There’s an achy feeling in your body that starts to melt away.
You don’t even realize what you’re doing, at first. He passes you the ball, and you’re in range of the net, and- you dart around him, eyes on the prize, now. He laughs, tries to go after you, catching on nearly immediately. But you’re too good at this, too fast- he’s used to blades on his feet and ice beneath him, not tennis shoes and grass and a ball rolling in front of you. You look up, find the goal, see your spot, and kick.
It sails through the air, hits the net, and falls to the ground. Goal. Behind you, Oscar cheers loud enough that when you close your eyes, you can imagine it’s all still there. That you’re really playing soccer, in front of a crowd again, scoring a goal, taking your team to a victory. You soak it in, for just a moment.
When you open your eyes, you’re on your back, staring at the sky, Oscar’s face looking down at you. His brows are furrowed.
“You’re not hurt, are you?” He asks.
You shake your head. You know the tears in your eyes must contradict that. Oscar shifts on his feet for a second and then collapses to the ground next to you, legs kicked out away from yours, his head right next to your shoulder. The two of you form a little v on the grass, staring up at the sky.
“I didn’t realize how much I missed that,” you admit. “The… running, and the chasing, and the… scoring.”
His hand brushes against yours, then comes down to lay flat atop the back of it. His palm is warm and soft. You try to breathe normally. It’s easier said than done.
“You could always try again,” he says, quietly. “Do a club sport, or a league of some sort…”
You shake your head. “Nah, my knee is already starting to hurt.”
You rub your fingers against the ache. He sighs, heavily, and squeezes your hand. You turn your head to look at him. He’s close, closer than you realized. It wouldn’t take much for you to lean in, and nobody else is here, so you do. Just a short kiss, because you’re laying on a soccer field and there are kids and families nearby. But you want him to know how much this means to you. When you pull away, his cheeks are pink, and you think he understands.
Eventually, you know everyone will start to wonder where the two of you are. So when Oscar stands up and offers you a hand, you let him pull you up off the ground. He brushes grass off your back, and when you get back to the house, you head upstairs to change and hope nobody questions the grass stains on your shirt.
One night, after everyone’s in bed, you curl up on the beach on a blanket, your head against his chest. You listen to the waves and stare up at the stars. He draws lazy patterns on your back, his hand against your bare skin under the sweatshirt you stole from him.
“This is a real thing, right?” He says, quietly. “Not just a spring break thing?”
You smile into his chest, your cheeks suddenly warm. “God, I would hope so.”
“Okay, cool,” he says, in a very calm voice, like you can’t hear the thud of his heartbeat. “Cause I‘ve wanted this for a while.”
“Me too,” you murmur back.
Then he kisses you again, hand under your chin to pull your face to his. He’s a little sunburnt, and you can feel the heat of it on his skin when you brush your lips against his cheeks. Then again, maybe he’s just blushing. The way he smiles makes you think that might just be it.
…..
Keeping it from the rest of your friends is sort of… unspoken. It’s easy, like this, just the two of you. Easy to kiss and hold and talk and laugh without the pressure. You try to remind yourself that it’s okay to take it slow. That you have time to figure things out. And it’s easier to figure things out when you don’t have 6 other people’s opinions on it, let alone the whole team’s once they all find out. Whenever someone walks into the room and Oscar pulls his hand from yours, he scans your face, like he’s checking to make sure it’s okay. You always smile in return, and he lets out a little relieved sigh.
The very last night, you all order large amounts of pizza and breadsticks, and you spread out on blankets on the beach for dinner. The sun is low in the sky, and everything is golden. Oscar finds a spot next to you, laid out on the blanket. Max is already talking hockey plays, Lando listening intently while Alex rolls his eyes. George, Charles, and Lily are chatting about starfish. And Oscar is watching you, eyelashes fluttering against pink tinged cheeks. He’s being painfully obvious. When you smile back, you know you are too. For a moment, though, it doesn’t matter. Nobody’s paying attention anyways, as he brushes his fingers against the back of your hand where it lays on the blanket. It’s just you and him, for just a moment.
The next morning, before you head to the airport, you wake up early and find Oscar in the kitchen, cutting up fruit. His hair is a tousled mess, eyelids heavy, but when he sees you, he smiles, bright and warm and sweet. You walk over and slip between him and the counter, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“I was busy, you know,” he mumbles, though he doesn’t pull away when you lean in to kiss him.
“Mm,” you sigh. He tastes sweeter than normal. He’s definitely been sneaking bites of fruit as he goes. “Mango. My favorite.”
His cheeks are flushed. “Thought I was your favorite.”
You shrug and wink. “Close second.”
He swipes a piece off the counter behind you and presses it to your lips. You give him a closed lip smile as you eat it, feeling warm all over. He leans in and kisses you again when you’re done chewing, and you have the sudden, strong urge to pull him close, to press your hips into his, to let him pin you against the counter. But your friends are probably all about to wake up, so instead, you pull away and press a finger into the swell of his cheek. He laughs and kisses the furrow between your brows.
“Heading home today,” he mumbles, smile falling slightly.
You nod. “But it’s not just a spring break thing, remember?”
He nods again, the smile coming back to his lips. “Yeah. Just. Do you think we need to tell them?”
You know what he’s talking about. Or who he’s talking about, really. You tilt your head, chewing on your lower lip. “Do you think we need to?”
He sighs, nose bumping against yours. “They’re your best friends.”
And. Oh. Right. You hadn’t really thought about it like that, that it’s not just his teammates and your friends. It’s Lando and Max. Your chest twists. You like that it’s just you and Oscar, but you think about them, about how you share everything, and you wonder if they’ll be upset. Not even that it’s him, but just that you didn’t tell them. On the other hand, they’re likely to get overprotective and weird when they do find out. Max banned a guy you went on a date with from all parties your sophomore year, until Charles told him off for it, but by then it was too late. The guy was a jerk, which was half the issue, but still.
You blow out a puff of air, and then you have an idea. “I might… tell them I’m seeing someone, to start,” you suggest. “Just not who. Just… someone. Is that okay?” You ask.
“I think that’s a good idea,” he says.
“Okay. Cool. Me too,” you say with a nod.
Oscar giggles. You hear a door open, and footsteps. He groans, and you lean in one last time to press a kiss to his lips before you slip away. You sit down on a barstool just before George walks in, scrubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Morning,” he says, voice scratchy. “Ready to go home?”
“No,” you admit, and Oscar hums in agreement.
When he dishes out the fruit to everyone later, he gives you most of the mango. You grin up at him, wide eyed and feeling so, so happy. When you break his gaze and look across the table, you find Charles staring back at you, a knowing smirk on his face, and you wonder if you’ve been caught. Maybe you just look like a girl with a crush. You still feel like one, really.
You all walk down to the water one last time, dipping your feet into the waves as they crash against the sand. Oscar’s hand brushes against yours as he does the same. You don’t want to ever lose this feeling. The sun on your skin, the water tugging at your feet, and Oscar, next to you, feeling the same way you do.
When you pack the bags into the Uber to head for the airport, you feel a wave of sadness wash over you. You want nothing more than to stay, to never worry about school again, to let Oscar wrap you up in his arms and never leave. You pout, and Max catches you, laughing and pulling you into a loose hug.
“It’s okay, Bunny,” he murmurs, ruffling your hair. “We’ll be back before you know it.”
You don’t say it, but you think it- he and Lando are graduating this year. There’s a good chance they won’t be back next year, too busy with work or real life or whatever comes after college for them. Your heart twists. And Oscar- will he still be yours by then? Not just a spring break thing, you remember, but you have a strong urge to plant your feet in the sand and try to keep them all here. You watch your friends pack bags in the trunk and tease each other and laugh and your chest aches.
“Hey,” Lando says, quietly, sneaking up your other side. “We’ll be back.”
He knows. Max does too, but Lando really knows, because you think he feels it too. Max is trying to play hockey after college, but beyond beer leagues and pickup games, this year will be it for Lando. Senior year is exciting, but it’s a year full of lasts, too.
“Promise?” You ask, quietly.
He links his pinky with yours. “Promise.”
So you climb into the car, and you end up wedged between Oscar and Charles in the row of seats at the back of the car. Max is in the front seat, chatting away to the driver, and Lando’s already leaning his head against the door, half asleep. You press your shoulder into Oscar’s. He spots your hand on the seat between you and reaches out, brushes his fingers against the back of your hand. When you lean your head on his shoulder and let your eyes fall half closed, nobody questions it- you do it to all of them, all the time.
The beach house disappears in the rearview. Oscar presses a kiss to the top of your head when nobody’s looking, and you start to believe everything will really be okay.
bunnyrabb1t
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen33, and 53 others
bunnyrabb1t truly a spring break to remember forever
landonorris still annoyed you and @/oscarpiastri didn’t bring me ice cream back :(
oscarpiastri You were invited & you called our ice cream trip dumb
landonorris doesn’t mean i didn’t want ice cream
lilymhe always a trip to remember with you babe!
bunnyrabb1t ilysm bb 😘
alex_albon hey. back off 🤺
oscarpiastri 🩵☀️🌊⛱️
bunnyrabb1t 🩵🌅🐚🕶️
charles_leclerc 🤨
carlossainz55 charles you are just jealous he is actually on her instagram before you
notes: hiiiiiiii hope this one was worth the wait!! if you are one of the people who told me you were staying up late for this: go to sleep! this is me tucking you in! see ya soon!!
series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @putting-it-into-parc @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @colmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @not-nyasa @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofwordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom @lalloronaisreal @fangirl125reader @tpwkmera @booksandflowrs @elizanav @lightsoutletsgo @meko-mt @customsbyjcg-blog @bingussthirdtoe @sideboobrry11
(crossed out means i was unable to tag!)
147 notes · View notes
rougecreator1 · 10 hours
Note
Hi! How are you doing? I was hoping I could request something with Poly!plastics x reader? After Cady gets brought into the plastics, the reader gets insecure and thinks that her girlfriends will replace her with Cady. She tries to hide it but after the three of talk about Cady on date night she snaps. How you end it is up to you, I was want Poly!plastics x reader to be endgame. Thank you 💘
Insecurities
omg im actually obsessed with this idea
|| poly!plastics x fem!reader
(i myself am poly)
|| Warnings: talks of insecurities, feeling leftout/replaced, some swearing, slight bullying of Cady (sorta?)
|| Summary: Reader feels left out when Cady joins the group: the girls don't notice right away. When date night rolls around and all they seem to talk about is Cady, Reader can't take it.
Requests open!
My requests are open, I'm just only writing when I have motivation to right now so it may take time for me to get to them. Like I think this fic almost took me a month to finish 🥲
~~~
Tumblr media
To say you weren't happy about Cady joining the group would be... an understatement. You felt like all your girlfriends attention was suddenly on the new girl. You hate feeling left out and that's exactly how they were making you feel, even if they didn't realize it.
The five of you sat together at your usual lunch seat, Gretchen and Cady were talking, Karen was kind of just listening to them and occasionally throwing in some comment, Regina was focused on her cheese fries. You? You sat there awkwardly. Awkward around your own girlfriends because of Cady. The fact that none of them were even trying to talk to you. You couldn't take it.
You suddenly stood, holding your lunch tray. Which got their attention. You were about to leave when Karen called your name.
"Y/N? Where are you going?" Karen asked, a slight frown on her lips. You try to hide your insecurities and force out a smile, Gretchen narrows her eyes at you. She could always tell when something was off.
"I was just going to the bathroom." You state.
"With your lunch?" Karen looked confused.
You looked down at the lunch tray in your hands and then glanced at Cady, who was looking at you with concern while you were trying to hide the jealousy in your eyes.
"Oh, um, no I'm not hungry so I was gonna go throw it out then go to the bathroom." You quickly came up with a response, racking your brain for something that made sense. Though now you had to actually throw out your lunch and, truthfully, you weren't really all that hungry. So you felt fine with the lie.
Regina raised an eyebrow at you and seemed to share some look with Gretchen.
You ignored them and followed through with your lie. Heading to the nearest garbage, dumping your tray then putting the now empty tray with the rest before going to the bathroom. There you locked yourself in one of the stalls and sighed deeply, leaning against the back of the door.
Maybe you could have tried a little more to be social. But you didn't feel like you could connect with anything they were talking about. Cady had mostly been leading the conversation. You didn't quite know how to interact with her yet. The two of you didn't have anything in common, that you knew of. So it just always felt awkward to even try.
~~~
It was later that night, you and your girlfriends had planned a date that you'd been working on for months. You were excited it was finally happening. You were going to the theatres and then after all of you would dine at a fancy five star restaurant, all paid for by Regina though the rest of you did chip in what you could. Much to Regina's disliking. She loves spoiling her girls. fight me
As the four of you sat at the table, waiting for your food you found yourself just listening to the conversation again. Not being apart of it. They were talking about Cady. On date night. Fucking Cady. It made your chest twist and heart ache. You couldn't help but feel like in the short amount of time that Cady's been there she's replaced you. The feeling was killing you. You couldn't sit with it anymore. Before you could stop yourself...
"Seriously? Can't you guys shut up about Cady for one second? It's date night! This is supposed to be about us. Not her." You snapped, the table went quiet and their eyes were on you. Confusion quickly replaced with concern. Which then made you the confused one until you realized you were crying. When did you start crying?
"Oh my God!" Gretchen says, quickly reaching across the table and grabbing your hands. The four of you were situated so Regina sat next to you, Karen across from Regina, Gretchen next to Karen and across from you." We're so sorry, we didn't even..." She looks at Karen and then at Regina with a frown, clearly none of them had realized how you felt. Gretchen thought she had picked up on something weird earlier today, she didn't know if she had been overthinking that look you gave Cady but it turns out she was right. Gretchen sighs.
Regina drapes an arm around your waist and pulls you in close to her side, her nails trailing through your hair as she looks at you with a look you couldn't quite figure out. "Are you jealous?" Regina was always more blunt. Even with you.
"I don't... well, it's not really jealousy.. jealousy is definitely a part of it but it's like- I feel like Cady's replacing me." You try to explain your thoughts with a little struggle. There were so many going through your head that it was hard to jump on a single train of thought. So they all mixed together a bit when you spoke.
The three glance around at each other, seeming to have some silent conversation. Regina speaks up first. Her hold on your waist tightening a little but not in a way that was uncomfortable to you.
"Why the fuck would we replace you with her?"
You pause and blink, looking at Regina in confusion. You thought her and the others had been really close with Cady. You were so sure of it too. To hear Regina immediately dismiss the thought, it definitely surprised you. Were they not as close as you had assumed?
"What?" You reply, your confusion showing on your face. By now the tears had stopped flowing but the streaks remained.
"Why do you think we would replace you with Cady? We don't actually like her. We've been making fun of her." Regina states simply. That was news to you. They never really included you in their kittle schemes because they knew it wasn't your style, they respected that. Though sometimes you'd hear the stories.
"But you gave Cady those shoes?" Your head was beginning to hurt trying to figure all this out. If they didn't like Cady why was she even in the group? It didn't make sense to you.
"Because we thought it would be hilarious watching her try to walk in them. And it was." Regina shrugged, a slight smirk on her face as she glanced over at Gretchen.
Karen looked about as confused as you," wait. We don't like Cady?"
"Honey..." Gretchen looked at Karen with a soft gaze and rested one of her hands on her lower back, keeping the other in your hand.
Regina brought her focus back to you and kissed you deeply, hand moving from your waist to rest under your chin before she breaks the kiss. Smirking against your lips as she looks into your eyes.
"Better?" She whispered, you nodded your head. A blush coated your cheeks as you stared back into the blonde's eyes. She always managed to leave you speechless.
The rest of the date went by smoothly, your girls focused on making sure you were the center of attention for the entire date. Including you in conversation, always finding some way to touch you. By the time the four of you got to Regina's room, you were exhausted as you let yourself collapse onto her bed. Gretchen giggled as she watched you and was the first to lay down beside you, wrapping you in her arms and pulling you close. Karen came down on your other side, doing the same. Making sure her arms wrapped around both you and Gretchen. Regina took a picture of the three of you and posted it to Insta before joining you guys in bed. Fully laying herself on top of you with her arms around your hips as she planted a soft kiss to your jawline; which got a hum out of you in response. The four of you remained cuddled up with each other until you feel asleep.
Feeling much better than you did at the start of the day.
71 notes · View notes
Text
I never liked dreaming
warning -> none, sfw, fluff <3 | happy birthday little, yaksha
xiao x gn reader | Anthology
Tumblr media
I never liked dreaming
Xiao opened his eyes and the light shined in. through the breaks in the leaves and swaying branches, through the passing clouds, and in between the birds that soared without him. he watched as they went with their flock, haloed in gold.
he turned his head to the cliff edge, one leg dangling absently as his hand unfurled to catch a falling petal from a perilously clinging tree. its roots deep and mingled with the falling stone. the color reminded him of the gentle images that had slowly taken over the dark of his mind. the hue that, bit by bit, tore down his torment and replaced it with a warmth he'd left behind eons ago.
you called his name, and he fell to meet you.
Xiao reappeared on the other side of the fog and found you standing there, arms held out and holding a small box. It was tradition. Every year on the same day, the same day Morax first beckoned him into breath, you were there to offer him some mortal trinket. He stopped trying to convince you to let the day go by like any other before it, and all the ones after. You never backed down. Though he never cared much for the item you gave him, he had grown desperately attached to how you looked at him when he opened it.
your smile.
your laugh.
your eyes.
He had seen mortals fall so many times he lost count, each blurred into the next like ripples in a stream. But you floated, drifted, and flourished in his gaze. A testament to what was possible, what humanity could give.
a being haunted by a tainted soul shouldn't be allowed so close.
"What do you want to do next?" you asked him as if the world was in the palm of your hands and, if it were within his power, he'd put it there.
Xiao mulled over the question, pondered on an answer. It didn't matter as long as - he dropped his head and tried to speak clearly. "May I lay on your lap?"
He peered at you with sharp eyes and felt his chest ignite at your expression. Perhaps it was too much of a request - he shouldn't be touching you anyway, it wasn't safe.
You didn't reply with your voice, instead, you sat on the ground, legs bent, and held your hand to him. He breathed and moved to rest against you.
Your warmth seeped into his skin. The back of his neck burned at the contact. Swallowing, he adjusted until the grass below him lay flat until his fingers relaxed against his chest and - only slightly - dug into his clothes.
"Comfortable?" you asked as your fingers brushed his bangs. Gentle, slow strokes that lulled his eyes heavy. He nodded and you continued to trail featherlight fingers across his brow, through his hair. He turned into the familiar. into the safety of you.
His eyes closed and the colors bloomed so brightly the darkness receded until the shape of you remained.
I never liked dreaming.
"Happy birthday, Xiao."
until now,
until it was you
I kept seeing
Tumblr media
116 notes · View notes
f0point5 · 15 hours
Note
As if you couldn't turn Max watching her breathe into a masterpiece, don't lie🙄 idk maybe they're driving around in her new car and they coincidentally see Elliot😂 would be a nice reprieve from *clenched teeth* freddie
Sooo.
I tried to incorporate a bit of Max watching her just breathe because it’s funny. But also Elliot. But also the car.
But also mostly I was just freaking out because the male perspective is so alien to me. This might suck. We’re going to be KIND if it sucks because I’m just a girl okay men don’t make sense to me.
Anyway, I’m deciding to name this one because this is what I was listening to when I wrote it.
✨set during winter break✨
Tumblr media
Call It What You Want To
“How do you take this long to get ready?” Max groans in frustration, dragging his hand over his face.
He’s been waiting 45 minutes. Not the longest he’s ever waited for you, but he’s been looking forward to this night out for two whole days. After everything that’s gone on in the last couple of weeks, and how none of that is likely to be resolved before Testing next week, he could really use a drink or twelve.
“I’m almost done,” he hears you call back, your tone telling him you’re unbothered by leaving him waiting. “Do you want everyone to think you have an ugly girlfriend?”
Max opens his mouth to reply but closes it just as quickly. What is he supposed to say to that? That no one on earth has ever thought his girlfriend is anything less than breathtakingly beautiful, so much so that it stopped him for thinking you could ever be his girlfriend more than once? That sometimes during a race he looks at the tv screens on the track in case you’re on camera? That whenever he passes the picture of you in his hallway he thinks he’d have hung it up even if he didn’t know you, because you’d still be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen? No. He’s not saying any of that. Three months is way too soon to let you know that you could use his balls as earrings. It’s not like you need a bigger head.
“I want my girlfriend to get to the club before it closes,” he shouts, stifling a smile. It’s been three months, but he still likes saying girlfriend.
“You’re such a drama queen,” he hears you say, your voice getting closer as you make your way to the living room. “We can’t all just put on a t-shirt with a funny saying on it and-“
You stop when you round the couch and finally notice him staring at your slinky black satin dress. Actually, he’s staring at the parts of you not covered by the dress, which gives him a lot to stare at. He might just give everyone what they want and quit driving if they could promise him he’d only have to lol at you in this dress for the rest of his life.
“What?” You ask him, which has him blinking furiously, trying to focus. You’re holding out a pair of heels to him, the ones you bought with the gift card his dad’s wife had given you for your birthday.
“Nothing,” he says, taking the shoes from you. He shifts off the couch to kneel in front you, lifting your leg to put the shoes on your foot and do up the buckle. “You look good,”
Above him, he hears you chuckle, and then your fingers run through his hair. You’re petting him like a cat, and he’ll be damned if he ever admits how close he feels to purring.
“Why does that still sound like it’s painful for you to admit?” You tease, using a bit more of your nails on the final run through of his hair.
“It’s not painful,” he tells you winding the glittering strap around your ankle.
It’s not painful. Sometimes it’s a lump in his throat, or a tightening in his chest. Sometimes, when he’s on one knee in front of you like he is now, it’s an urge to say something he can’t yet find the words for. But no, it’s not painful.
He finishes with your other shoe, squeezing your calf gently before placing a kiss on the inside of your knee.
“You’re just painfully gorgeous,” he says as he gets to his feet. “Can we go?”
You roll your eyes at him with with a smile. “Your car or mine?”
********************
He chooses to take your car. Every time he gets in your Ferrari, he thinks about Vegas. He drives it often.
He weaves through the streets of Monaco with one hand on your thigh, and he can’t remember where the fuck he was putting that hand before you.
“The thing is, unless the contract gets sorted next week, he’s totally fucked,” you’re saying as Max turns onto Avenue Princesse Grace. There’s a gaggle of people outside with their phones out. Simply fucking lovely. “You’re not listening to me are you?”
Max turns to you, squeezing your thigh as the car slows. “Of course I am, Engel. Do me a favour? Just say fuck again, a bit slower,”
“You’re twelve,”
“You would not have gone out with me at twelve,” Max jokes, slowing to a stop in front of Twiga as a valet comes towards the car.
“You were cute at twelve,” you say, “fourteen is where it started to go haywire,”
Before he can respond, you’re getting out of the car, and immediately the camera phones are focused on you. Max follows you out, handing the keys to the valet as he tries to ignore the feeling of being hunted. He wonders if they know he can hear every word they’re saying. He wonders if they’d like him to take their picture and post it all over the internet. He watches you slink through the crowd towards him, not even bothering to pretend you’re not being watched.
It’s ironic, he thinks, he brings the spotlight, but you’re the one who shines in it.
Inside the lobby, you head straight for the elevator while he talks to the woman at the front desk- it’s a well rehearsed routine. Lando isn’t here yet, typical. He asks if they can send over some St. Tropez cocktails and some gin tonics, and texts Lando to hurry up, before turning to join you at the lifts.
Except, he notices, you’re not alone. You’re standing by the lifts, with a big smile on your face, explaining something to a guy with a familiarly large head.
Max has seen Elliot around a couple of times. Monaco is stupidly small, especially in the winter when it’s nearly empty. The two men always studiously ignore each other, because what is there to say? Max doesn’t know if Elliot knows that you’re together now, and he knows it shouldn’t matter, but it does.
He didn’t hate Elliot in Austin, even though he’d planned to. But then they’d met and Max found he really couldn’t hate someone who was as smitten with you as he was, as he’d always been.
He finds that he kind of hates Elliot now, though, as he gets close enough to hear you giggle at something.
“No. It was actually okay, just cold, you know?“ you stop when Max places a hand on the small of your back, where you dress is low enough that he’s touching your skin. You turn to him. “Oh, hey. Is Lando here?”
Max shakes his head.
“Typical.” You sigh. “Max, you remember Elliot, right?”
“Yeah.” He says, and they shake hands. How are you?”
“Can’t complain,” Elliot says with a shrug. His shirt matches your dress. Fuck him.
“Well, you can if you want,” Max jokes, except it’s not a joke because he hates those Britishisms. If you want to say something just say it. And if things are fine and you have nothing to complain about why make it sound- he just doesn’t like the guy. And he doesn’t like that you liked the guy.
Mercifully, the lift arrives, and when it does, Max steps aside.
“You take this one,” he says, gesturing to the open lift. Elliot looks like he wants to refuse out of politeness in the way only English people do, so Max forces himself to put everyone out of their misery. “It’s the least I can do,”
It’s such a dickhead thing to say, but he can’t help but smirk, and it does the trick. Elliot gives both of you a tight lipped smile and steps into the lift, pulling out his phone as the door closes.
You turn to face him, his hand falling away from your back as you fix him with a quizzical look. He waits for you to chastise him for his comment, then wonders fleetingly if you’re comparing him, in his silly t-shirt and tight jeans, to Elliot in his perfectly crisp chinos. Then he finds himself staring at your lips.
“Oh, right,” you say suddenly, tapping his shoulder. “That’s what I was saying. So this builder says he’s ordered all the materials, but he has to no contract. And my dad…”
Max listens to you talk, winding his arms around your waist in a way he’s still getting used to, and you smile at him in a way he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to. He promises himself then never to get angry with you when you’re getting ready. You’re worth the wait.
78 notes · View notes
athanza · 20 hours
Text
Starlett - Part 2
Cooper Howard/fem!OC (not self-insert)
Tags: Hurt/comfort (sort of?), non-allowed romantic connection, lots of tention, pre and post war drama, some Cooper dad fluff because why not ♡
Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse and some mild scenes (no graphic scenes or descriptions of that nature), angst, canon wasteland violence
This branches out from canon but I thought it was a cute story idea so I had to write it. No idea how long this one's gonna be yet. Enjoy! ♡
Part 1 | Part 3
Tumblr media
2296
The harsh sun was setting now which meant he needed to find somewhere to settle in for the night. The rickety second floor of one of these buildings would be the best option so he'd have a good vantage point if something were to happen.
As he searched for the right building he began to hear muffled screaming coming from further in the crumbled town. At first, he couldn't give a rat's ass, but he needed to know if it was a big enough threat for him to keep moving.
It didn't take long for gunshots to begin ringing out through the ruins, but they were only from 3 separate guns...then 2...then 1.
As he reached the area where the shots were coming from, the sounds of a pissed off Yao Guai became apparent, and there was one singular person left to fight it off but she looked like she was badly injured.
"You son of a bitch!!" She yelled when her gun jammed and the wounded beast readied itself for another charge.
As it lunged at her one more time a shotgun shell slammed into the side of it's head and it went down, a pink mist left in the air for a moment as the rest of it's brains splattered to the ground.
The woman turned to where the shot came from to see Cooper walking casually towards her, unable to see his face very well in the dark. She pointed her now un-jammed rifle at him just in case.
"Those things'll kill ya." He quipped.
"Yeah, no shit." She replied, wincing at the pain from a gash on her side.
He cocked his head a little. Her voice sounded familiar.
"Why don't you put down that gun so I can cut myself some bear hide and be on my way?"
She scoffed. "So you can shoot me in the face and steal all my shit? No thanks cowboy."
That was it, the confirmation he didn't think he'd get.
"Irene?" He said.
The woman paused briefly, then aimed her gun properly. "How do you know my name?"
He stepped a little closer so that the light from the lantern on the ground could illuminate his face.
It took her a moment but she recognised his eyes and immediately lowered her weapon.
"Cooper?"
Tumblr media
2077
A scream woke Cooper up in the middle of the night and he instinctively got up and ran to his daughter's room.
"Daddy!" Janey cried when she saw him.
He came over and hugged her tightly. "Hey, hey, it's ok, it was just a dream, you're ok."
She cried into him for a moment before spluttering "Why don't you and mommy love each other anymore?"
That caught him off guard. He had no idea what to say and it hurt so much hearing her say that.
"It's not that we don't love each other honey, it's just..." He tried desperately to search for the right words. "Well...your mom and I just disagree on somethin' really important and we tried to figure it out but it was too hard."
"What did you disagree on?"
"Well...that's grown up stuff baby girl."
She sulked quietly, putting her head back on his chest.
"We still love you very very much, that hasn't changed at all."
"Is it my fault?" She asked and his heart broke.
"No baby girl, no, not at all. None of this is your fault."
"I know I haven't been doing my homework, and I don't always feed Roosevelt when I'm told and-"
He cut her off, kneeling beside the bed so he could look her in the eyes. "Janey," he held her hands. "None of this is your fault. Your mother and I loved you since the day we found out we were gonna have you. And when you were born, we looked at you and we just cried and cried.
I have never been prouder or happier than I was in that moment. And you know what? That hasn't changed a bit, not even a little."
Janey smiled, her face still wet with leftover tears.
"Really?" She sniffed.
"Yes." Cooper chuckled, scooping her up and hugging her again and she giggled. "Now, how about a hot chocolate, with double marshmallows?"
She smiled and nodded enthusiastically.
She hugged him as he carried her downstairs. "I love you daddy." She said.
His chest burst with warmth and happiness and he smiled. "I love you too sweetheart."
Tumblr media
The next morning, Janey was watching cartoons on the TV while eating her breakfast and Cooper sipped greatfully at his cup of hot coffee, having not gotten much sleep.
He smiled as he heard his daughter giggle at the TV, her mouth full of cereal, and sat down at the dining table with his newspaper.
But just as he sat down the loud ringing from the telephone rang out through the kitchen and he sighed heavily.
"I'll get it!" Janey yelled and ran over, hoping it was her mother. Her face dropped when it wasn't her mother's voice she heard on the other end of the line. "Yeah he's here, I'll put him on."
Cooper looked up at her tone and she held the receiver out to him. "It's for you dad."
He walked over and took it, kissing her on the head before she went back to her cartoons.
"Hello?" He said.
"Mr. Howard, it's Irene. I'm sorry to call you at home but I need your help."
Her voice told him it was serious. "What's wrong?"
"You were right. About Frank. I know we barely know each other but I need somewhere to stay for the night before I go to my mother's up in Sacramento. Lee...Lee doesn't know."
"I uh..."
"...no, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you." She said.
"No, no, it's ok. I'll make up the guest room for you."
He could hear a faint sigh of relief in her answer. "Thank you, so much, I owe you one."
He gave her his address and they hung up.
"Who was that dad?" Asked Janey.
"A friend from work. She needs a place to stay tonight so she's gonna stay in the guest bedroom. You'd like her."
She kind of shrugged in an uninterested way and took another bite of her cereal, her attention back on the TV.
He hoped no one sees Irene at his house, that's the last thing he needs in the papers, especially now.
Tumblr media
Part 1 | Part 3
59 notes · View notes
You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 13: You Made a Plaything Out of Romance
Tumblr media
Chapter 13: You Made a Plaything Out of Romance
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter thirteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 7.3K (And every word hurts, except the beginning the beginning is nice and then it goes downhill)
Warnings: I'm going to label this one 18+. This one is sad guys. References to sex, Implied Sex, Nudity (lying in bed with someone the morning after), Brief explicit sexual encounter (it's like one sentence), Self-detrimental thoughts, Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
A/N: This one took me a while to write, because it was painful. I can neither confirm nor deny that I cried when I wrote it. But I hope y'all hate it as much as I do.
*********************************************************
1984
Soft light from under your floral curtains kisses your face as you wake from sleep, your arms tightening around Ben with a happy sigh as the memories of the night before blanket you in a soft cocoon of love and warmth. You had imagined that night many times over the years you'd been with Ben, but none of them compared to the real thing.
A dull throb of pain coats your limbs and body, that serves as a gentle reminder of exactly how you spent the late hours and the early hours of the morning with Ben, but it was a happy reminder. The memories of last night were passionate and more wonderful than you could have imagined. All thoughts of leaving him wiped away by one night filled with love that was all you wanted for so long. Because now there wasn’t a point in leaving, now that you had the one person you’d wanted since you were eight, you’d never leave him ever again.
You can feel the soft drag of Ben's hand against your back, coaxing you into a peaceful glow of contentment. You were laying on his muscular chest, your head directly over his heart, listening to the steady beat, your arm wrapped in an possessive hold over his body and you never wanted to leave. You wanted to exist in this moment the rest of your life, laying here with the man who'd had your heart for so long, finally at peace and finally allowing yourself to show him how much you loved him and how much he meant to you. Apart of you couldn't believe that this was real, and was worried that you'll wake up and the bed will be cold and Ben will be gone.
"Good morning." Ben's voice rumbles up through his chest. He moves his free hand to push back some of the hair that has fallen into your face, a content smile gracing his perfect lips as he allows his hand to brush over your cheeks.
"Good morning." You smile, leaning into his touch, before you press a kiss directly over his heart. "How long have you been awake?"
"Not too long."
"You didn't want to wake me up?"
"No." He murmurs, his hand still stroking your back in a soft smooth motion, that trails sunshine down your spine. "You're cute when you're asleep.
"Only when I'm asleep?" You tease, propping yourself up so you can look in his eyes, your hair tickling over his chest and you're sure that you must look ridiculous, but you don't care.
He looks better this morning than usual, you decide, noting the sweep of his dark hair over his brow and the sleepy haze in his eyes. His lips are a little red and swollen from when you kissed him and you assume your own look the same.
"No." Ben shakes his head, slowly, smiling down at you, and you can't help but kiss him, brushing your lips against his and letting him set your nerve endings on fire. Ben's happy smile against your mouth makes you want to melt into him and never leave, to curl up inside his heart and let yourself be filled with the glow of his love. “How are you?”
“Good, better than good.” You tighten your arm over his chest. “Just a little sore-“ You smile against his lips.
You hadn’t meant it like a bad thing, if anything, you liked it a little bit,  but judging by Ben’s reaction to those words you understood that he took it the wrong way. 
Ben’s eyes widen, his own smile faltering. He grabs the blanket wrapped around your waist raising it, so his eyes can trace your body to look for bruises. “Did I hurt you?” Ben’s eyes lock with yours once more, voice tinged with worry in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.
“No you didn’t.” Your hand gently falls on his cheek to reassure him. “It was perfect.” For a second you're afraid you said too much, but then Ben’s crooked smile breaks something inside of you.
“Yeah, it was.” He whispers, turning to press a kiss to your palm.
The look in his eyes is soft, filled with so many unspoken things that it makes you dizzy. He’s never once looked at you like that and you know you’ll never get used to it. Because he’s looking at you the way you saw the elderly couple look at each other all those years ago, when you longed for the same thing to happen to you, longed for a man to look at you that way. And you’re sure you’re looking at him the same way, because now it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to hide how you feel about him. There’s no more frustration or anger, there’s only love that crashes over your head and pulls you out to sea with Ben.
 “And It’s a good sore.” You smile sheepishly, cheeks blushing under his gaze. “I wouldn’t mind-um-getting used to it.”
“Oh really?”
You nod, hand still cupping Ben’s cheek.
“Huh.” Ben's smile turns into a mischievous smirk.
All of a sudden he flips you over so that you’re on your back with him hovering over you, smirk more pronounced than it was a few seconds ago. As he does so, your bed makes a terrible creaking sound and shifts to the right precariously on its last leg, literally.
You snort, pressing your lips together, body shaking with stifled laughs. Ben presses his head to your shoulder laughing too, the rich sound of his voice sending tingles down you spine. His eyes shine with laughter as he leans down to kiss you again.
“You owe me a new bed.” You mutter against his lips.
“I think we are both responsible for breaking it.” Ben's hands stroke along your sides, before he drops back down to kiss you.
“Well as slutty as you are I’d think that you would know how to avoid breaking one.” You tease raising a hand to brush his dark hair out of his eyes and Ben leans into your touch. You loved how he responded to you, it reminded you so much of how you felt whenever he touched you, like he couldn't get enough and he never wanted it to stop.
“Did you just call me a slut?” He pulls back with a frown.
“Yes. I did.” You laugh at his sullen expression.
Even when he frowns he's handsome. How did I get this lucky?
"You're lucky you're so cute." Ben sighs. “I’ve broken a few, but I will say I had the most fun breaking this one.”
His words make your heart thud madly in your chest in understanding. It confirms the thing that you had been thinking since you woke up, that last night meant everything to Ben too, that it wasn’t just sex for him. That he wanted to be there with you. And it made you smile wider.
Ben’s eyes are locked with yours, so much love and care slipping through his gaze that it makes you dizzy. “Next time we can break my bed. Just so we’re even.” He finishes capturing your lips with his, the words next time circling on your head on repeat.
You kiss him back eagerly, wanting to be lost forever in the warmth of the two of you together, because it’d finally happened, you’d finally gotten your Ben.
Your fingers scratch against the back of his head softly as you gaze up into his bright green eyes. You couldn’t believe it, after all these years he was yours, your best friend and now the man you love with all your heart. Your entire chest soars with emotion, smile stretching across your face so wide that you knew it probably wasn’t attractive but you couldn’t stop. You were so blissfully happy for the first time in years and you wanted to share that happiness with him the rest of your life.
“What?” Ben smiles down at you almost tenderly, so different than the way he looked when it wasn’t the two of you. One of his hands strokes the curve of your hip to bring your leg up to wrap around his waist the other brushes your wild tangles from your face, tracing the dips and curves of your cheek and jaw with a fingertip as if he wishes to commit each one to memory. He touches you with a reverence that you’d never imagine possible, a gentleness that is so different than Soldier Boy that it takes your breath away, like you’re a marble statue and he wishes to understand your beauty.
You move both of your hands to cup his cheeks feeling the wonderful scratch of stubble against the smooth skin, smile still firmly in place. And you finally say the three words that have haunted you since you were children. “I love you.”
Ben blinks. “What?”
“I love you Ben.” Your heart thuds madly in your chest remembering the past 24 hours when he made you feel special and loved, just how you’d imagined it so many times.
You didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop smiling, ever be able to stop feeling so warm as if you were catching fire.
Ben doesn’t move, his muscles tensing.
“Ben?” You’re still smiling, hoping that he’ll say it back, expecting that. Because how could he not? How could he not and be so caring and attentive? How could he make love to you like that, hold you close, take care of you after, dance with you, buy you a thoughtful gift, and take you out for your birthday each year and not love you? How could he look at you like you were the only person in the world and not feel the same way?
“I-“ He looks at you earnestly eyes soft in the morning light, his touch warm against your cheek, as if drinking you in. "I-" But then the softness in his green eyes is gone replaced by a familiar hardness that makes the warm feeling evaporate in your chest. Ben glances at the alarm clock on your bedside table. “Fuck is that the time?”
“What?” You ask confused by the change.
“I have a meeting with Legend.” He rolls off of you, pulling his face from your hands, and out of bed making it buck and shudder, not embarrassed by his nakedness. It was like he suddenly needed to be as far away from you as possible, and it was like someone dropped a bucket of ice water over your head.
You sit up, clutching the blankets to your chest in confusion. He moves around the room trying to find his clothes where you practically ripped them off his body last night.
“You do? I thought you just had the premiere tonight?”
Ben never scheduled things the same day as a premiere. He liked to spend the early part of the day drinking and imbibing in whatever he wanted so he didn’t have to be sober when he got there. He didn’t like to deal with the reporters, fans, and other people sober. Honestly, you didn't either, but you'd rather acquire a buzz while you were there, rather than before.
But today was different. You were hoping that this time it meant you and Ben would spend the next hours together enjoying one another before you had to go, spending as much time together in bed as possible. Hoping that at the premiere maybe you could announce your relationship, not that the press deserved that, but after all these years you wanted people to know that Ben was yours and you believed that he would be happy to say that you were his. Especially given what he had said before taking you to bed.
“No. I’ve got to talk to him about some shit for that thing in Nicaragua. That fucker Stan is gonna be there-“ Ben walks around the room picking up articles of clothing and refusing to make eye contact with you.
“Are you sure? I thought we could go to that diner on the corner and get some breakfast.“ You try to catch his eye, but Ben turns away as if he's looking for his shoes, hard to believe given the fact that they were sitting in the opposite direction. "You really liked it last time-"
“Sorry baby I can’t.”
The nickname “baby” is like taking a bullet to the chest.  Ben never called you that, Sweetheart yes, Doll, yes, but never baby. It was reserved for the other women. The endless cycle of women that Ben bedded and then never talked to again. It was his way of putting distance between them and him and you knew that better than anyone. And the fact that he called you that made uncertainty pulse in the back of your throat. You try to shake it off and try again.
“Oh well. You’re still picking me up for the premiere right? We always go together-“
“I’m not sure how long the meeting will run so I’ll see you there.” He won’t meet your eye as he pulls up his pants, the harsh sound of his zipper like a slap in the face.
“But Ben-“ Your start to say, your heart sinking.
“I gotta fucking go.” Ben snaps.
“Oh, Okay.”
He looks in your general direction one more time, not quite meeting your eyes, and not apologizing, but then he turns and leaves the room, not even taking the time to put on his shirt or his shoes.
What just happened?
When you finally force yourself to get out of bed to go to the bathroom, you see your reflection in the mirror, hair a tangled mass, lips bright red and swollen from Ben, and the prominent mark he left behind in the shadow of your jaw that marked you as his.
As you stand there examining your reflection, the pain of his rejection hits you all over again, causing you to crumble against the counter, hands tightening so hand in the marble vanity that it comes apart in your hands.
You weren't sure if it was a rejection, rather it was the abruptness of how he left that scared you. How easily he slipped back into the façade of Soldier Boy after spending the entire night with you and making you believe that every moment was special.
The memory of last night sends a wave of warmth through your body, goosebumps prickling against your skin. But this time a cold shock of the way he left strikes your heart.
Maybe he really did have a meeting. But then why did he have to leave immediately after I told him that I loved him?
The memory of how happy you were in that moment makes you cry harder, when you told him the one thing you'd longed to for so long, while he looked at you with so much love that it made you feel more happy than you ever had.
You knew that Ben had a difficult time expressing that and feelings in general, but the way he acted last night at dinner and after when he made love to you, spoke greater than that. He had to love you, had to care about you.
Didn't he?
*******************************************************
"Indigo over here!"
"Indigo who are you with tonight?"
"Indigo what do you have to say about the rumors of you and Noir being in a relationship?"
The questions are coupled with flashes of brilliant light as you wave and force a wide smile on the red carpet. Tonight Legend had insisted that you wear the new supe suit he had designed for you, the one that didn't require a hood and the only thing that hid your identity was a black eye mask that looked suspiciously like the red one Countess wore.
But you weren't focused on that, or the reporters, all you could think of was Ben.
He hadn't called and hadn't answered any of the three phone calls that you placed to his apartment at the time you guessed he would be home getting ready. You even left messages, but he still never called.
Each minute you stayed away from him you could feel the crack in your heart growing wider and wider. You still didn't understand why he did that, why he left as soon as you said the words you wished to for so long.
You had felt like a weight had lifted from your chest when you said them, wanted to live in the warmth that followed as you gazed up at the man you loved finally able to let him know how you felt.
And then he'd run away.
You'd spent the rest of the time before the premiere trying to convince yourself that it was a coincidence, that maybe he really did have a meeting with Stan and Legend about Nicaragua. But you wondered why you weren't told about it.
Stan had been making such a big deal about it, about what it meant to finally have supes help in the military. Not to mention Stan usually liked having you at those kind of meetings, because you were able to keep Ben calm.
So then that begged the questions: Why did Ben lie? Why did he run away?
As you weave your way through the crowded lobby of the movie theater you spot Ben up ahead, his back was to you, but then you freeze halfway to him. His muscular arm is wrapped around Countess's waist, pulling her into his side so tightly that her free hand is resting on the front of his supe suit in the middle of his chest where you had pressed a kiss to hours ago. He leans down to whisper into her ear and she laughs, before whispering something back that makes Ben's hand squeeze her hip.
All of a sudden you're transported back to your 16th birthday, when Ben showed up with Missy Callahan, who flaunted him right under your nose. But this is worse.
It's worse because you can't think of anything else but last night, when Ben kissed you, held you close, made you feel more loved and appreciated than you ever had. When he made every moment you spent together feel special, when he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.
Tears build behind your eyes as you stand there staring at them, all the other patrons passing by in shades of multicolored dresses and suits, with the sound of Countess's laughter echoing in your ears.
When Ben and Countess walk towards the theater you follow, hoping to catch his eye, wishing that he would look at you. They choose their seats in the front row, Countess sitting down on Ben's left, and just as you try to sit on Ben's right, Gunpowder slides into the seat on Ben's right, your usual seat.
"I was actually going to sit there." You say, and this time Ben looks away from Countess to see you for the first time. You wait to see some kind of recognition in his eyes, see some semblance of the man you woke up with in your bed, but you see none of the warmth he had earlier.
He looks indifferent, and the frustration and anger makes tears burn behind your eyes, but you keep them down.
"Sorry Indigo. The director told me to sit here because I'm in the movie." Gunpowder shrugs, but he doesn't quite meet your eyes.
Each time this had happened in the past Ben would shove either Gunpowder or Countess out of the seat so you could sit next to him, even though he hated that you usually mocked whatever movie it was endlessly. But this time Ben does nothing, only sits there.
How can he do this? How can he act like nothing happened between us? How-
The next thought is lost in another wave of emotion that crashes over your head, but you refuse to cry in front of Countess, who is the only one really looking at you. Ben's eyes are on you, but they're cold, unyielding, nothing like the soft clover they were last night when he took you to bed and made you feel special.
"Ben can we talk?" You ask.
"I don't want to miss the premiere." He replies, taking a swig from the glass full of scotch in the cupholder between him and Gunpowder.
"I think this is more important-" You begin to say.
"You should find a seat. The movie is starting." Countess interrupts with a smirk, running her hand up Ben's muscular arm where it lays on the arm between their chairs. You watch the drag of her hand and you feel like the sixteen year old girl in the monstrosity of tulle watching the boy you loved dance with another girl, who made you feel ugly and fat.
You hadn't felt like that girl in a long time, especially not in the last 24 hours when Ben made you feel beautiful and sexy in the best way. The memories of the time you spent together flash through your mind. When each time he moaned your name made you proud to know that you could do that to him, that you could cause him to fall apart, that you could leave your mark on him, make him be lost in you the way that you were lost in his every caress.
Ben doesn't say anything as the commercials begin to play behind you on the large screen, only sits there allowing Countess to touch him.
"Um- yeah. I guess I should." You whisper, swallowing the ball of emotion before shuffling away to find a seat. It's several rows back, in the aisle away from them, next to someone who smells like they've bathed in whiskey.
And damn it all it does is remind you of Ben. Your eyes don't leave him and Countess where they sit and each time you watch them whisper and hear her giggle you feel yourself sink lower and lower into the pit of despair.
Finally when the movie is over you try to chase after Ben, to corner him because you want to know why he's doing this, why he's acting this way, why he's finally allowing Countess to have him the way that she always tried to in the past. The exact thing that he and you mocked her for late at night when the two of you were talking at your apartment. Ben hated her almost as much as you did, or you thought he did.
But he expertly avoids you, like he knows you're following him, given his super-hearing it didn't seem that far from the truth. You follow him through the theater and into the banquet hall where the afterparty is occurring, ignoring the clinking of glasses, the soft music from the band on the stage, and the laughter coming from the people around you who are too drunk already to remember any of this.
Something you wish you were, drunk that is. You didn’t want to forget last night, you just wanted to know why Ben was acting this way. You didn't want forget the way he touched you, the way he felt, the way he made everything else melt away so that it was just the two of you, exactly what you had longed for. You wanted to understand.
Because maybe I did misjudge what last night was, but I couldn't have. The memory of this morning before he left blankets your mind in a cocoon of warmth all over again. You don't look at someone like that, hold them close like that, agree that last night was perfect if it was just sex.
The thought made you irrationally angry.
"Indigo." You hear someone say and touch your arm.
"Huh?" You turn to see Dr. Vogelbaum. He was wearing a dark blue suit, perfectly tailored, with a red tie. Very patriotic, but also surprising. He had never seemed the type to want to come to one of these premieres. "Dr. Vogelbaum, I didn't know you were here."
"I thought I'd come and see what all the fuss was about." He smiles tightly. "Would you like to dance?"
"Um-" You look over the crowds of people dancing in the center of the room. You didn't feel like dancing, you still wanted to corner Ben, drag him away to another room where you could ask him what the hell was going on. He'd never done anything like this before, never iced you out even when he was really pissed off, he'd always find you.
So why was this any different? Was he angry? Upset by what I said? Why would that upset him? You think about how happy he looked when you were laying on his chest and how he leaned into your touch. I thought he’d be happy. He was happy up until I said “I love you.” So why would that change anything?
"I don't really feel like dancing-"
"Please, oblige me. A woman as beautiful as you shouldn't be here alone." Vogelbaum smiles as he pulls you onto the dance floor, ignoring your protests.
You begin to sway back and forth to the song, but everything feels wrong. It makes you think of last night, when Ben held you close and finally kissed you for the first time while your song played. And now this entire night feels like a mistake, last night feels like a mistake, everything that's happened the past forty years feels like a mistake.
He spins you away from him, and as you turn you see Ben. You didn't realize that he was standing on the edge of the dance-floor watching you and Vogelbaum. His arm is still wrapped around Countess, who is practically attached at the hip, talking with another woman in a long blue dress in front of her. You watch his jaw tighten as he takes in Vogelbaum’s hand placement, a dark look flashing in his eyes, but just as you try to identify it, Countess drags her hand up the front of his suit, grabbing his attention, and goes on tiptoe to whisper something in his ear.
How could I have been so stupid?  You think to yourself watching him drop his gaze to her and smile. The thought makes tears burn against your eyes. You couldn't understand, couldn't understand why he was doing this, ignoring you and getting friendly with Countess. And you couldn't understand how he could shift from hot to cold so suddenly, how he could act like you were the only person he saw to not even looking at you, refusing to speak to you, acting cold and indifferent. Ben had never once done that to you, had never once acted that way, even when he was mad.
Vogelbaum pulls you back into his chest, but the way his body feels against yours is wrong. "He's quite the flirt isn't he?"
"Huh?" You look up from his tie.
"Soldier Boy." He's watching them over your head, but you don't want to look at them anymore, you don't want to watch Ben with Countess and feel ugly, feel like you weren't enough, feel like the girl who only had one friend and a mother she could never please.
"Yeah." You mutter.
"Legend mentioned that you were thinking about retiring." He continues oblivious to your current state.
The mention of your plan to leave makes you remember it. You hadn't thought about it since Ben picked you up for dinner the night before, when you had been drinking and finally decided to leave, to walk away from everything and do something for yourself.
And now you wished you had. You wished that you had slammed the door in Ben's face when he came to get you last night, wished that you had told him that you were leaving, and wished that you had been strong enough to say no to him. The memories of last night come back to you, how it felt to kiss him for the first time, how happy you were because you believed he loved you as much as you loved him, how he cared about your first time being special-
The tears are so close to falling now that your jaw is  clenched together so tight that you think you hear the crunch of your teeth cracking.
"Yes. I'm retiring." You respond.
"Well, if you're looking for a change of pace I might have a job for you."
"I'm not really a scientist-"
"It wouldn't be a science job and I think you should come to the lab this week-"
"The last time I was in a lab, all this supe shit started." You snap before you stop yourself. "Forgive me for not wanting to have that happen again."
"It's not an experiment." He continues to sway the two of you back and forth. "I've been working on a project with Stan and we both thought that you could help us."
"How?"
"Well we've been focusing on the next generation of supes and what that will look like-"
"Next generation?"
"Yes. And I know someone that might benefit from meeting you. I've been working very closely with him and he needs a strong figure in his life, you have some things in common-"
"I'm not interested in being a babysitter."
"Why don't you just come by this week and meet him? I'm sure you'd hit it off-"
"I said I wasn't interested." You pull yourself from his arms. "I'm done with all of this."
"Indigo-" He reaches for your wrist.
"If you touch me again, I'm going to rip off your arm." You force a smile knowing that the cameras are still flashing, and say it low enough so that he is the only one that can hear.
Vogelbaum immediately moves back from you, putting as much space as he can and you turn back to where you saw Ben standing a few minutes ago, but he's gone.
You stand there in the middle of the dance floor for a minute, not sure what to do, so you decide to go to the bathroom to collect your thoughts. And you immediately regret your decision.
Before the door of the bathroom opens all the way you know, call it a feeling or a psychic premonition, but you do.
You wish you were wrong, but you knew Ben better than anyone, or at least you thought you did.
You can feel it in the air, hear the rapid beating of their hearts and the loud moans, smell the sour odor of sweat, but you're still not prepared for what's waiting for you. Countess's hands are braced on the white marble of the sink in front of her, Ben's hand fisted tightly in her hair, pulling her head back to where his face is buried in her throat, her own face contorted in an expression of pure ecstasy, with each snap of Ben's hips as he crushes her against the sink.
The bathroom door slams shut loudly behind you, drawing Ben's gaze to where you stand, your hands clenched tightly into fists, the skin pulled tight over your knuckles. He freezes and for a moment you think he looks sorry, but then it's gone, fading into the hardened expression he's had since you told him that you loved him.
You don't know what to feel, anger, frustration, heartbreak, and rage all form a white hot ball in the pit of your stomach. You have the sudden urge to throw up and also burn the entire building down to the ground, but you can't move, can't look away from where they stand.
"Baby why'd you stop." Countess gasps, reaching back with a hand for Ben, but he steps away from her, to zip up his pants. Countess finally looks over at where you're standing and smirks. "Oh hey y/n. I didn't know you were here."
Her face is flushed red, almost the same color of her hair as she reaches down for her pants and drags them back up her body. The proud look in her eyes makes you snap your jaw together to fight the urge to rip her in half.
“There are private rooms for that.” You keep your voice as monotone as possible, pushing down the heartbreak and the anger that burns against your skin.
“It’s much more fun when anyone can walk in. Don’t you think so Ben?” Countess reaches for Ben, but he shrugs her off.
You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you taste blood, trying very hard not to lose control. You prided yourself on that, you hadn’t lost control in all your years as a supe.
Ben doesn't say anything.
“Get out.” You snap.
“I don’t think I will. We were in the middle of something-“ Countess's sultry smile widens. "Maybe you should leave so we can fini-"
Her body flies forward towards you, until her throat is clutched tightly between your right hand. “I’ve never liked you Countess. Other than a flash of light you're pretty worthless. Your powers the only thing that make you special, and I know that you need both of your hands to use them, right?" Your hand tightens on her throat and you know the next day she'll have bruises.
I should just kill her right now. Who would miss her?
She gasps for air, clawing against your hand, eyes wide. She'd never seen you lose control before, never seen you use your powers quite like this, and the fear in her eyes makes you feel better.
“So I suggest you get out. Before I rip them off and make you eat them.”  You snarl before throwing her in the direction of the door behind you. She stumbles forward a step, placing a hand against the bathroom door as she catches her breath. When she turns back to look at you, her eyes are flashing with malice, but you can still see the pride under it all.
“Well I’ll see you two later. Hopefully we can finish what we started.” Countess smirks at you, recovering as she saunters out.
It takes an amazing amount of willpower not to drag her back into the room and rip her head off.
Ben adjusts his suit, not meeting your gaze. And for a second you think he looks guilty, but it’s gone as soon as you see it. His ridiculous helmet is laying on the floor next to him, probably took it off before-
Your jaw clenches together remembering what you walked in on.
“Ben why are you doing this?”  You say, composing your voice as much as you can. You force yourself to look him in the eye, you want him to see how hurt you are.
“Doing what?” He crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow.
"You’re pushing me away, avoiding me, and acting like last night didn’t mean anything-"
"It didn’t.” He states. Ben's jaw is clenched tight, shoulders tense, as he begins to slip back into the façade of Soldier Boy that he adopted after you both got the serum.
Tears burn against your eyes at his sharp tone. You let out a shaky breath. "I don’t believe you. You don’t act that way, kiss me, hold my hand, make love like that and then pretend it never happened.”
“We didn’t make love, we fucked.” He snaps eyes blazing. “Don’t turn this into something that it’s not.”
 “I’m not just talking about the sex. I’m talking about dinner, the dancing, remembering my birthday, getting me pearls because you remembered I lost mine, the fact that you had them play the song we danced to when we were 18-“
“So?”
“Why are you acting like you didn’t do any of those things?”
“I’m not saying I didn’t do them. I’m saying that you’re being damn hormonal and reading into it.”
“I’m not being hormonal!” You snap. “Are you really telling me that you did all of those things just to get into my pants and that you don’t feel anything for me? That what I said to you this morning meant nothing to you? After everything we’ve been through-“
“Everything we’ve been through?” Ben spits, suddenly angry. “All I know is for the last 40 years you’ve been getting in my way. You think I care about you? I don’t care about anyone! I’m Soldier Boy. I’m America’s first fucking superhero. And I could never care about someone like you. You’re pathetic. You’re always here, fucking with my decisions, following me around like a fucking lovesick puppy, standing in my damn way with those fucking stars in your eyes, trying to remind me of who I was before and I wish you would just fuck off!”
Your own anger surges up to push away the heartbreak at his harsh words. “You say that I’m always here, but it was your idea for us to do this. You did this to me Ben. I’m here because you wanted me to be, because you needed me. And it’s you that keeps showing up at my apartment. I don’t make you come over!”
The memory of the night he asked you to come with him rises at the back of your mind. You remember how happy you were to go with him because you thought it was as close as he would get to admitting that he loved you, and you had hoped that if you went with him it meant that he wanted to be more. You were not remembering wrong, you remembered exactly what he said that night, you knew that he acted like he needed you. So why was he lying now?
“I never wanted you here.” He takes a step forward, green eyes hardening. “I don’t fucking need you or anyone else. I’m not a pussy. I’m a man.”
Your teeth clench together in anger and frustration. “I don’t believe you. You say that you know all my tells when I’m lying, but I know yours too. So just tell me the truth!”
“That is the fucking truth. Are you too stupid to understand that? I don’t care about you, I never have!”
“Then why did you kiss me?”
Ben freezes.
“I didn’t initiate that kiss, you kissed me! You were the one that started whatever the hell happened last night!”
“So?”
“You’ve heard me talk about what I want. You addressed it at the table last night. You know that I want more than one night, you know that I want love, that I was willing to leave to find those things. I was ready to walk away from all of this Ben and then you fucked with my head. Did you kiss me and do those things because you thought it would keep me here with you? Because you can’t stand the thought of being alone?”
“I wouldn’t give a single fuck if you left. If you want to go then go. I won’t miss you and I’m not stopping you.”
 “I don’t believe you and I don’t understand why you’re doing this, why you’re trying to push me away and act like you don’t care about me-" You shake your head in frustration.
Ben advances on you, grabbing your shoulders so tightly you know there will be bruises. Ben never touched you when he was angry, sure he’d stare you down, but Ben never did anything to harm you. It’s why you were never afraid of him, because Ben didn't want to hurt you. Even this morning you remember how worried he'd looked when you said you were sore, when he thought that it mean he hurt you. Ben cared about you. You knew he did.
But for him to do this was shocking and you can’t fight the shudder of fear that creeps along your spine.
“You mean nothing to me.” He growls. “You’re just another woman with a warm pussy. That’s all you are. I fucked you because you needed someone to and I thought it might as well be me. I don’t care about you. I never did. And I could never love some one like you. So get the fuck out of my way.” Ben pushes you from him so harshly that you fall back against the wall.
The memory of what your mother shouted at you the night you told her you were going with Ben settles over your mind.
“You really think that disappointment will ever love you? Care about you? You are nothing to him, just another plaything. And the day he finally tosses you away, don’t bother coming back here.”
Your mother's words were harsh, cut to the quick. You hated to admit it, but she was right. You understood that now, understood that the last forty years and all the years of your friendship had been a lie.
Ben didn't care about you, probably never did, he just saw you as a tool for his own amusement, and his harsh words were enough to make you realize that the boy you knew was gone and enough to jolt you into the new harsh reality.
Your hand flicks and Ben's body flies into the concrete wall on the other side of the bathroom hard enough to crack the solid cement. You find your feet, rising to your full height, hands glowing bright purple. The entire room trembles with the force of your anger, the mirrors shatter on the bathroom wall, raining down glass and metal onto where Ben sits stunned on the tile that has begun to crack and split with your display of power.
“That night you came to me I chose you. I chose you, Ben. I left everything behind for you because you asked me to. And I regret it. I regret every moment I have wasted caring about you and taking care of you. I have made excuses for you my entire life. To my family, to society, to your damn team, and to myself. I have stood by you through all of this and I never complained because you were my friend. I was here before and after you decided to take the serum, when your father broke you, when your mother died, when you needed someone to sit with you because you couldn’t take the silence alone, but not anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t be the voice of reason or your fucking babysitter and I can’t be your damn conscience. I shouldn’t have to. You are a man after all, so do it yourself.” The tears are falling freely now, searing against your skin as they trickle down your cheeks. “I tried to cut you some slack because you were my friend Ben, and I loved you.” Your voice breaks when you use the past tense. “But maybe that’s my fault, I romanticized you. I shouldn’t have but I did. I ignored so many things because I loved you but now, I’m fucking done.” You reach up to grab the pearl necklace around your throat, the one that you thought was ridiculous to wear with the supe suit, but the one you kept on because you wanted to remember last night and rip it off, sending the pearls rolling in every direction.
Because now you just wanted to forget it all, forget your friendship, forget the years you spent together, forget all the nights he spent in your bed, forget last night, and forget him.
Ben stands from the ground, brushing off his supe suit and for a second you think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t.
“I can’t do this with you anymore. I can’t stand by and watch you do this to yourself, embrace whatever the fuck kind of person you are now. I won’t. I never want to see you ever again. And the next time you touch me, I’ll kill you.” You turn to go, but then you stop short of the door. “You once told me that you never wanted to be your father, you wanted to be better than him. Funny. After all this time you still became him.”  You spit.
You throw open the door and storm out as the mindless drone of people talking, glasses clinking, and buzz of music settle over your ears. But you don’t hear it, all you hear is the harsh words of the only man you’d ever loved and the feeling of your heart breaking in your chest.
*******************************************************
A/N: Well this one was very sad and I hate myself for putting the reader through this. Let me know what y'all think :)
Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know :)
Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts,@onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress
68 notes · View notes
gaylordscooter · 9 hours
Text
Where Fate Leads Us
Killer, Dust and Horror were in Killer's room, folding the multitude of clothes.
“don't expect me to do more of the chores around here just because you two offered to help me,” Killer said.
“sure, you'll be too busy with laundry anyway,” Horror chuckled.
“i literally will,” he said in full seriousness. He placed the shirt he folded onto the stack of shirts in his closet that was getting taller than he was standing. “i know i’ve joked that you two ain’t allowed to borrow my clothes—but yeah, please take some of these. i didn't expect there to be this much.”
“eh, it's not my style,” Horror shrugged, holding a pair of ripped jeans.
“horror, bud. please.”
Horror shook his head, “shouldn't have gotten so many clothes, man.”
“i swear nightmare gave me more than i grabbed.”
“that's definitely not true.”
“dust, back me up.”
Dust did not back him up.
Killer sighed, looking at his hubris that was the closet filled to the brim with stacks of clothing. He wouldn't have to do laundry that often if he washed all his clothes once he ran out of clean ones, but that would take so long. Eh, he’ll worry about it later.
They didn't see Nightmare until they started to eat dinner. He arrived without a word, keeping his gaze forward and away from the three as he walked over to the door to the hallway.
Killer dropped his fork upon seeing him.
A good amount of the goop on his body was gone, as if half of his body was washed off. Or scorched off. Something smelled burnt.
What surprised Killer the most was seeing his skull. He was a skeleton and he looked like him. He didn't expect that.
Nightmare spared a quick glance at Killer as he tried to walk faster. His gait was erratic, akin to limping. What little slime there was formed slim tendrils by his legs that he used as support to walk. 
The three stayed silent until a few moments after he left.
“he looks younger than me,” Killer said.
But rather than questioning it, the three decided to drop it there.
They didn’t see much of Nightmare until a whole week later. 
They were sitting at one of the tables in the Great Hall, conversing with each other. Soon enough the topic steered over to Nightmare.
“nightmare hasn't put us through anything recently, huh? not even a game of uno,” Horror said. Last time there was a dip in activity, he was paranoid, but he was oddly calm about it this time. Seeing Nightmare's other form changed the way he saw him, he supposed. It was easier to personify him. “what do you two think he's up to?”
Dust merely shrugged. Either because he didn't feel like talking or because he really didn't have a clue.
Killer seemed lost in thought, before speaking up, “he apologized.”
“huh?” Horror cocked his head.
“he apologized, for putting us through all that shit. maybe he meant it?” That apology would be worth nothing if he continued to do it, after all. Which is what he was expecting, but it's been a whole week since then and he has yet to tell them to do anything.
“he actually apologized? that's hilarious,” Horror said.
“i think he was being genuine, but i wonder why he’s been out more often.”
The obvious conclusion to this behavior would be that he's planning something, but none of them jumped to it. Perhaps they were beginning to trust him.
They were also all in a good mood today.
 Killer was able to get a good night’s sleep and woke up well-rested for once. He had a good breakfast consisting of ungodly amounts of buttered toast, tended to the cats, and now he was hanging out with the other two. It was a solid day.
Dust also appeared to be in a lighter mood. He was chatty by his standards and overall more relaxed. It was like less stuff was on his mind.
Horror didn't feel on edge constantly, almost feeling how he used to before the core went kaput. It was as if he felt safe, almost.
In fact, they’ve been in a good mood this whole past week. If their year-ago selves saw them now they'd find this weird and crazy.
“though, he always comes and goes in such a hurry…”
As if on cue, Nightmare entered the hall, throwing the doors open in a dramatic fashion that called for attention. He only had four tentacles out at the moment. That was half the usual amount.
“Hello,” he greeted. “How has everyone been today?” He has never asked that question before. He was being friendlier, perhaps.
“i’m doin’ good,” Killer answered without a second thought.
“‘m fine,” Horror said.
Dust nodded, indicating he felt the same.
Nightmare hid his smile. “I see, carry on then.” He left the hall, sinking into the ground to reappear in his room.
It was happening.
He felt incredibly weak at the moment, sure, but it would all pay off. He just needed to be patient.
He collapsed on his bed, reverting to his normal “passive” form as the protector of the multiverse called it. He was nearing the end of his plan. He will enact the last step tomorrow. He had to. If his exhaustion was anything to go by, he was running out of time.
The next morning, Killer was first to wake up. Another night of feeling well rested. It was a miracle. He sat up and stretched before getting up to throw on a change of clothes.
He went out to the hall, glancing at Horror and Dust’s doors before heading over to the kitchen.
He opened the pantry only to be met with nothing but chocolate bars. Instead of getting annoyed or mad he laughed.
He shut the pantry and composed himself. Why did he find it funny? Nightmare definitely targeted him with that one—No, it was just coincidence.
It was?
Killer shook his head trying to snap himself out of whatever was happening.
Something was happening, right? Something was off.
Nothing was off. He was just being silly.
He scratched the back of his head, opting to open the fridge.
And there was nothing but ketchup.
He slammed the door shut. Laughter erupted from his metaphorical throat. He ended up collapsing to the floor from how hard he was laughing.
He couldn't breathe. He didn't need to breathe.
But his chest still hurt. No it didn't. He couldn't feel pain.
Everything was fine.
His soul snapped into a target shape. He gasped for air and scrambled up to stand. It was like cold water was dumped onto him.
Something’s wrong, he tested the thought. Nothing came to counter it.
Something was messing with his head. For how long? Oh god, for how long?
Where the hell was Dust and Horror?! He wasn't ever the first to arrive in the kitchen, let alone first to wake up.
A cackle echoed throughout the area as the kitchen warped and twisted. The floorboards underneath him cracked and splintered, revealing dark nothingness beneath. The patterns on the wall had eyes, all glaring at him.
What the fuck was happening?
He choked out a breath, rushing over to the door that led to the hall. The door itself looked normal but when he grabbed the doorknob he couldn't let go of it, as if it grabbed back.
Was he still dreaming? Was this a hallucination?
The door flung open. He still couldn't let go of the handle.
It was Nightmare.
“Good morning, Killer,” he said calmly, as if their surroundings weren't collapsing in on itself. “Leaving the kitchen so soon? You haven't even eaten yet. Was the food not to your liking? But I picked it out just for you.” It sounded like his voice was coming from all directions. It was disorienting to say the least.
His eye, along with the eyes on the walls darted to his soul. He looked disappointed when he noticed its shape. He tsked, “After all the work I’ve put in, the stubborn thing is still unstable?”
“wh-what the hell are you talking about?” he rasped.
Nightmare snatched his soul with one of his hands. He leered down at it like a predator stalking its prey. He molded it with his hands back into the shape of a normal monster soul while Killer keened.
Killer grit his teeth as his emotions hit him at full force. It was now that he realized the unusual happiness he felt these past few days was not normal. That had to be Nightmare's doing.
That's why he thought he trusted him.
“you,” he growled, “you asshole!”
Nightmare merely drank up his anger with an amused expression. “Yes? Is that anything new?” he asked.
“fuck you!”
“Using big boy words now, aren't we?”
“i hate you.”
Nightmare was unfazed by the comment. “Tell me something I don't know.”
The door, along with the handle keeping Killer captive, suddenly disappeared. However, he still couldn't move. It was like he had sleep paralysis.
But unfortunately, he knew the demon was real.
“Do you want to know something funny? It isn’t just that I gain energy from negativity, positive emotions hurt. They sting like pouring acid on a wound as you wrench it open. But it was all worth enduring just to see the look of betrayal on your face.”
He was foolish. He was an idiot. He was an utter idiot!
Nightmare's smile spread impossibly wide across his face, curling up at the edges as he took in all of Killer's anguish. He was reveling in it.
“The best part, you were right to be untrusting. And then you second guessed yourself, leading to your downfall. It's pathetically hilarious.”
Killer wanted to wipe that smug face off so badly.
“I may not be able to force people to be happy like my brother, but I can maintain what is there by taking away your ability to feel anything negative. Isn't that fascinating? Your happiness was real. I tore that away from you.”
He felt sick. He felt utterly sick.
“I wonder. Do you think you three were the first ones?”
There was too much liquid determination leaking from his sockets. He retched, leaving a puddle on the torn up ground. He coughed more out, trying to prevent himself from choking on it.
Nightmare watched the display in amusement. He leaned down, reaching a hand out to caress the side of his face in a false display of affection. “Oh, Killer,” he cooed, voice sickly sweet, “You're getting my floors dirty.”
His touch was painful. It trudged up old and awful memories. He imagined that this is what everyone he killed felt when he dealt the final blow. With effort, he managed to tilt his head away from his hand.
Nightmare withdrew his hand, wiping it on his cloak as if Killer was covered in dirt.
“Oh mortals, so easy to fool. You pretend not to know things, ask questions and suddenly you seem less of a threat. He's ignorant to the world. So innocent. Surely he’s just misguided.”
Killer’s breath hitched. He tried not to break down in front of him. He wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. He couldn't. Usually it was second nature to suppress his emotions, but it was too much now.
God, it was all an act for a false sense of security. He played with them like dolls and now he was tossing them out. What was going to happen now? Was he going to kill him?
Back then he wouldn't have cared about that. But now, he wanted to live. He had people he cared about again.
Did he already kill Dust and Horror?
“You're crying,” he said with false concern. “Be grateful you're able to. The others and your cats didn't even have the chance to.”
“NO!” Killer cried at the implications. The dam broke as he sobbed audibly. He clutched at his head, digging his fingers into his skull. He was hyperventilating. “no, you didn't. you didn’t—no.” He collapsed to his knees, shaking as he repeated his words of disbelief.
“You're alone, Killer,” he said in a tone that was a mockery of comfort. His sadness was euphoric. “You know, you were always my favorite out of the bunch.”
Killer was hardly listening now, too wracked with grief to hear.
“Because I knew how satisfying it would be to build you back up, just to tear you down again.”
And it was satisfying. Killer served him a mess of emotions in a cocktail just for him.
This is what he wanted. This is what he was made for. Was the multiverse finally happy with him?
Everything went dark. Killer shut his eye sockets tight and braced himself for certain death.
“Goodbye,” Nightmare growled.
When he opened them, he saw white. He had to blink his sockets until they adjusted to the brightness. Was this the afterlife? It was so empty.
And quiet.
He stayed on the ground, unable to find the effort to stand. So that was it, huh? He thought he was given a second chance. He was given back control over his life—but that was just a mere illusion. They were all his puppets in the end. He was just good at hiding their strings.
He couldn’t deny the sense of betrayal he felt. It was funny, he knew he couldn’t trust him.
He was still crying. There was a stain on the ground now created by the liquid determination pouring from his sockets.
He remembered when he thought dying would bring him peace, but now he was mourning all the things he was unable to do. He already missed Dust and Horror.
He laid on the ground for a little while, numb to the passage of time.
“—and there's the third. Hey man, you good?” A voice spoke.
Killer jolted and staggered to his feet. He looked around the area frantically, not finding anyone nearby—until he looked down. He screamed and backed away on instinct.
It was another skeleton, notably shorter than him, but still looked like a Sans regardless. However, this one dressed drastically different from any Sans he’s seen. He wore a scarf around his neck, some kind of crop top over a white tank top, long brown gloves that only covered his ring and pinky finger, and a brown jumpsuit worn like pants with the sleeves tied around his waist. It was safe to say he was a fashion disaster.
He raised his hands to show he was empty handed and meant no harm. “It's okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”
The way he spoke reminded Killer of how he’d talk to a scared cat. Another sharp pang hit his soul as he remembered that he’ll never be able to see his cats again. “who the hell are you?” he asked, voice raw from all his screaming.
The skeleton looked confused at the question but answered anyway, “The name’s ink.” He did a dorky pose where he pointed to himself as he said that.
“so i’m not dead?” he questioned aloud.
“I sure hope you aren't. Your friends would be sad.”
Killer narrowed his eyes warily. “what friends?”
“Two sanses like you, one had a red eye and the other had his hood covering his face. They asked if i saw you.”
“when did you see them?! they're alive?” Hope kindled in his soul before he had the chance to be cautious.
“They are. I took them over to the hub just a bit ago,” Ink explained. “I can take you to them.”
“please!” Killer hastily said. He didn't even know what the “hub” was but all he knew is that he needed to get over to Dust and Horror now.
He reached his hand out to him.
Killer grabbed it without hesitation.
Ink’s scarves moved like prehensile tails and painted the ground beneath them which promptly turned into a hole.
The two of them fell, startling Killer, but fortunately once they got close to the ground, Ink slowed their fall by floating somehow.
He let go of his hand once they landed.
They were in a whole different world. His eye sockets widened. He looked around the new area and saw a multitude of unfamiliar people.
“killer?”
He whipped his head in the direction of the voice. His face lit up upon seeing Horror and Dust. “guys!” he shouted. He bolted over to the two, tackling them down into a hug.
“you're both alive!” he exclaimed. He clung to the two of them like a koala. “i thought nightmare killed you guys.”
“we thought nightmare killed you.” Horror patted his back comfortingly while Dust simply hugged him back.
Killer ended the hug and stood up after a bit, helping the two up. “i’m so glad it was a bluff,” he said in relief. “fuck, what an asshole.”
“what did he do to you? it looks like you were doused with black paint.”
Killer glanced down at his clothes. Sure enough there were black stains. He didn't really want to think about what happened, but even as he did he found it hard to describe. “well, first of all, everything was fucked up like i was having a bad trip, and then he gloated about killing you two and then i thought he killed me.” It was a really poor summary, but he believed he got the point across.
“and what’s up with all that?” Horror gestured to the black stains that trailed from his face to his shirt.
“i threw up,” Killer said, trying to wipe off the dried determination near his teeth.
Horror absentmindedly wiped his own shirt. He was transparently concerned.
“Woah woah woah, what the hell are these three doing here?!” a new voice shouted.
The three of them snapped their attention to the unfamiliar person, making him freeze in place as a result.
Killer noticed that Ink was next to him.
He was yet another Sans, slightly taller than Ink but shorter than the three of them. He wore a torn-up lab coat over a blue-gray shirt, navy blue pants, blueish-green gloves and boots of supposedly the same rubber-like material. He also wore a bandana the same color as his boots and gloves around his neck.
In short, he looked like a nerd.
Ink told him something too quietly for them to catch.
The nerd-looking Sans, gave them a weird look before daring to walk over to them with Ink trailing behind. He reached his hand out for a handshake. “Hi,” he said simply.
No one made a move to return the handshake.
“Don't any of you know how to greet a new pal?” The way he said that felt practiced. And then he snickered and dropped his hand. “So none of you remember those times you almost killed me? Cool. That's great. The name’s Blue.”
The three exchanged glances amongst themselves, seeing if any of them recognized this “Blue”. Nope, none of them did.
None of them felt inclined to introduce themselves either.
Blue tugged at his bandana awkwardly and then swiveled around to Ink. “do they have to be here?”
Ink rolled his eyelights. “Yes, it's a thing.”
“Like how Dream bursting into flames and turning into some eldritch angel for a bit was a thing?”
Ink didn't even have to reply.
“Of course it is,” he sighed. He turned back around. “Anyway!” The increase in volume made the three flinch, but Blue didn't seem to notice. “Welcome to the hub! This is a place of refuge for people who’s universes have been destroyed or sucked badly, et cetera, et cetera, don't kill anyone here and you'll be provided a home along with food and water, probably.”
They were all disoriented by this change of pace. So they really were just going to live somewhere completely different now. Said somewhere being populated with many other people.
This was definitely going to take some getting used to.
Horror looked uncertain while Dust looked uncomfortable. Killer, on the other hand, looked elated.
“guys this means we're free. we’re free from nightmare!” he realized. “you're not gonna torture us, are you?” he asked Blue.
“Oh god no,” he replied, sounding repulsed.
Killer pumped his fist in the air as if that was a plus instead of the bare minimum.
Blue looked to the side awkwardly. “So then, Ink here will find you guys a place to stay and if you have any questions you can ask me, or Cross and Chara. Those two are the ones who founded the place after all, but they aren't here right now, unfortunately.”
“where can we get some food?” Killer asked. Hunger decided to hit him now and it was likely Dust and Horror were hungry too. None of them got to eat breakfast, to his knowledge.
“Oh, there's a Grillby’s—”
“anything but a grillby’s?” he sounded a bit desperate asking that.
“I gotcha covered!” Ink chimed in, nudging Blue aside. “I can get you guys whatever you want. I’ll get you guys a room first. Follow me.” He walked off towards the buildings in the distance.
There were a lot of other people around the area. A good amount were also skeletons. For the most part, they’d mind their own business, only glancing at them from time to time as they followed Ink.
Dust avoided looking at everyone, especially trying to make himself look small when nearing a Papyrus.
At one point Horror came to a sudden halt with a horrified expression.
There was an Undyne and Alphys, the two clearly together, nearby.
“what? you hate love or something?” Killer snickered.
Horror pulled his tattered hood on. “don't joke with me right now, killer,” he grumbled.
Killer went quiet and kept his head down. He hoped they were almost there. He kept looking at the buildings as they walked along trying to find one that looked remotely like the place they would stay. He realized that, while Horror and Dust seemed bothered by seeing different versions of people they knew, he saw all of these guys as mere strangers. Try as he might, when he sees a Papyrus he doesn't feel anything and can only go off of vague memories to know that he should be feeling something more.
He hesitated to kill his Papyrus. Why did he look at these other versions of him and feel nothing towards them?
He remembered when Nightmare brought a Papyrus to the castle and when they hugged. He didn't feel that much back then either, but he chalked that up to his soul being on the fritz.
“We're here!” Ink finally said. “Well, this is where Horror’ll stay—if you guys want to be separate, that is.”
The building they were in front of looked like an actual house rather than an apartment.
“how the hell do you know my name?”
“Your brother told me, duh,” Ink said as if he should’ve known already.
“my brother?! is he here?” Horror questioned. He looked like he’d strangle Ink if he was joking with him.
Ink pointed to the building with his thumb. “He’s living in there with a few others from your world. I think he's in there right now.”
Horror approached the door and knocked.
“Who’s there?”
That was Toriel’s voice.
“amish,” he answered.
“Amish who?”
“I missed you too.”
Toriel laughed, thankfully. He was pretty rusty on his knock knock jokes. He wasn't sure that one would land.
The door opened a few seconds later.
Toriel looked healthier and less burdened. Her fur was well taken care of rather than matted like it was the last time he saw her. She also had new robes that were much more vibrant in color. She smiled fondly at him. “Hello, Sans.”
He couldn't believe this was real. “heya, toriel.”
He heard a stampede coming from behind her as the whole gang from Grillby’s went up to the door. A chorus of “Sans!” rang out.
“‘sup, guys?” He was surprised to see that all of them were staying in the house.
Many of them were saying things like “we thought you died” and “where the hell have you been?”.
Everyone looked a lot livelier.
Papyrus managed to push himself out from the crowd, Toriel stepping aside to let him get closer to his brother.
Papyrus looked more like his old self. There weren't any more blood stains on him, but his teeth were still crooked. His outfit was completely different. He was wearing what appeared to be a red-orange knitted sweater with the text “Cool Dude” embroidered in white in the middle of it. His jagged neck was exposed without his cape on.
Soon enough, Sans was off the ground and lifted into the air by Papyrus as he brought him into a tight hug. “I KNEW I’D SEE YOU AGAIN!” he said excitedly.
“missed you too, bro. i hope you weren't too bonely without me.”
Papyrus let out a sob at his joke, but not in annoyance but rather joy.
“you good?”
“I MISSED YOUR PUNS,” he admitted. “IT WASN’T THE SAME WHEN TORIEL WOULD MAKE THEM.”
“you dead serious? of corpse toriel can't hold a candle to me, she’s just not as humerus. no body’s funnier than a skeleton like me.”
Toriel snickered at his rapid-fire jokes.
“AND IT’S WORN OFF! I NO LONGER MISS THEM,” he said lightheartedly. He set Sans down carefully. “WOWIE, YOUR CLOTHES SURE ARE…SOMETHING.”
Right, he practically was dressed in tattered rags.
“I THINK I HAVE SOME OF YOUR CLOTHES PACKED IN MY ROOM. DOGARESSA SAID I WAS OVER PACKING BUT I KNEW I WAS RIGHT TO BRING THEM!” he raised his voice even louder as he mentioned Dogaressa. “COME INSIDE, I’LL SHOW YOU OUR ROOM!” Papyrus walked back inside the house eagerly. 
Sans smiled but paused before taking a step in. He looked back to Dust and Killer, who were watching his reunion.
“Are those friends of yours?” Toriel asked.
Friends. He doesn't think any of them have called each other a friend before.
“uh, yeah,” he said quietly.
“Why not introduce them to us?” she suggested.
He never thought about the possibility of introducing Killer and Dust to them. He wasn't sure how something like that would go. Their names themselves would be off-putting. He motioned for them to come over.
They looked hesitant, as if they weren't sure if he really did want them to come over. Eventually, they bit the bullet and started walking over.
“Hello there,” Toriel greeted. “I take it, you two are friends of Sans?”
Man, they've killed different versions of everyone inside that house, Killer thought awkwardly. “yup, the name’s killer.”
She seemed to be more concerned with his odd soul than his name. To her credit, she didn't question either. “My name is Toriel, it is nice to meet you.” She looked at Dust, who was probably sweating bullets underneath his hood. “And you are?”
Dust kept his hands in his pockets and his gaze downward as if the ground was very interesting.
“oh uh, he doesn't talk. we call him…” Killer desperately tried to think of any other name to call him that didn’t literally mean corpse. “dusk.”
“It is nice to meet you as well, Dusk.”
“Nice of you guys to get acquainted,” Ink said, appearing behind the two skeletons. “Now if you don't mind, you two, we gotta get a move on. I’m a busy skeleton.”
“right, we’ll see you around,” Killer said. “bye, h—sans.”
Sans waved goodbye and went inside the house after his brother.
“Farewell,” Toriel said and then closed the door.
Ink led them to a hotel building a few blocks away from the house. The walk was quiet and lackluster.
That is, until Killer realized something. “hang on.”
“Hm?”
“you said horror’s brother told you his name.”
“Yup!” he confirmed.
“Horror’s brother doesn't know he's called that.”
Ink looked like he was caught robbing a bank, and then he laughed it off. “Wow, it took you that long to notice that? Anyway,” he gestured to the hotel, “this is where you two will be staying.”
“don’t just change topics—”
“I don't have time to explain to you who I am and how I know literally everything about you. Like how you're gonna ask me if you're gonna share a room with Dusk and then you'll get sad when I tell you ‘well I did have two rooms prepared’ and then stupidly happy when I say ‘but if you want you guys can share a room’.”
Killer looked mortified. What the hell was this guy’s deal? Could he see the future?
Ink handed him a key. “Anyway, here's your room key, it's on the second floor. Yes there's two beds but I doubt you need the extra one—”
“hey.”
“Have fun.” His scarf painted a hole in the ground and he jumped into it.
Killer sighed, inspecting the key in his hand. It had the room number on it, fortunately. “c’mon, man,” he said to Dust.
The two of them walked into the hotel, which thankfully didn't have anyone in the lobby at the moment. They were able to get in their room without any interruptions.
The moment Killer locked the door shut, Dust threw himself onto one of the beds with a sigh.
“how you holding up, dust?”
“don't call me that,” he muttered angrily.
“oh.” He went over to sit on the other bed, proving Ink wrong. “so is ‘dusk’ fine?”
He didn't protest, so he assumed it was a yes. It was funny, they hardly sounded different. In fact, Killer came up with that name because it sounded similar.
Was it because of the meaning behind the words or because of the person who gave him the name that made the difference? Killer knew it was more likely to be the former.
Dusk laid on the bed lifelessly, as if he was an actual dead skeleton.
Killer couldn't blame him. The only reason he wasn't breaking down was because someone else was in the room, and he was getting tired of all this emotional turmoil.
He heard a knock at the door. “i’m going to stab whoever's outside if you don't make like a tree and fuck off,” he threatened.
“Geez! I just brought you guys some food. It's lumpia. I’ll leave it at the door,” that sounded like Blue.
Killer waited a bit until he got up to open the door. There was a bag of takeout on the ground. He picked it up and shut the door, locking it again.
Inside the containers was a food he didn't recognize. thank god, he would've snapped if it was Grillby’s. He left one of the containers on Dusk’s bedside counter.
He ate like a starving animal, pleased to find out that the “lumpia”, as Blue called it, was pretty good. Honestly, he’d eat literal dirt but that didn't stop him from appreciating well-cooked food.
He heard Dusk sit up and grab the container on his bedside counter.
They ate in silence for a bit.
“i’m glad you're not dead,” Dusk said eventually.
Killer snickered, “me too.” He realized how that came out. “i’m also glad that you're alive, i mean.”
He saw him smiling underneath his hood.
“i dunno if my cats are okay, though. even if he doesn't hurt them directly…who's gonna take care of them?” His smile faltered.
Dusk put the container back and got up to sit next to him. He thought of what to say. He wasn’t that good at comforting people in the past and he definitely wasn’t good at it now. “they were strays, right? they’ll probably be able to fend for themselves.”
“god, i hope so.” That wasn’t even taking into account the possibility that Nightmare himself will hurt them. Killer supposed he never explicitly said he killed anyone, and the other two turned out to be fine, but that didn’t stop him from fearing the worst.
He felt Dusk’s arm awkwardly wrap around him. Instinctively he turned to hug him back.
Maybe they’ll end up okay.
47 notes · View notes
Note
hi, love y’all’s blog and all your hard work so dearly. i think I’ve read every crowley whump fic you’ve shared here, i love that trope but its much harder to find personally. im wondering if you have any more crowley whump oneshots, thank you so much
Hello! I'm glad you've been enjoying our #crowley whump tag! There are hundreds on the ao3 tag, too! Here are some more to add to our collection. Mind the tags and warnings, folks!...
Hot Pursuit by Anonymous (M)
While on a walk in the South Downs, Crowley is attacked by Hellhounds. Will Aziraphale be able to save him?
help me in my weakness. i'm falling out of grace by Bentley26 (T)
Prompt fill for Febuwhump Day 2: solitary confinement The War in Heaven was over. Lucifer and his rebellious angels had lost. Raphael was gathered up with the rest and thrown into a dark, featureless cell. He simply had to wait until they came back for him; then he could explain everything. They would come back for him... right? (Takes place right after the War, but before Crowley's actual Fall.)
Supplemental Summoning by ImagineThat0327 (T)
Somebody summons Crowley, believing him to be the demon that burned down the abbey belonging to the Order of Chattering Nuns eleven years ago. Crowley tries to make his case that he is, in fact, not the same demon as before, (damn you, Hastur!) but his summoner is having none of it. They are determined to make Crowley suffer a death just as dreadful as the ones the nuns suffered so long ago. Can Aziraphale come save Crowley in time? Or will Crowley burn, just like the abbey did so long ago? Whumptober prompt #9: Mistaken Identity
A Flat Circle by cassieoh_draws, EdosianOrchids901 (M)
Hell is full of rumors about demons vanishing and coming back haunted by whatever happened to them. Crowley isn’t convinced, but his opinion quickly changes when he’s summoned for the first time. Will Aziraphale rescue him?
You’re My Saving Grace by Bazzpop (T)
Pain seared through Crowley’s shoulder, pulsing sickeningly in time with the frantic beat of his unnecessary heart. That damn cowardly squire hadn’t even asked him for a proper duel, just snuck up behind him while he was making camp and lobbed a great bloody sword at his head. For Christ’s sake, he wasn’t even in any type of armor and didn’t have a sword on him, how was that supposed to be fair? — Crowley gets attacked with a blessed weapon, Aziraphale hears news of this and rushes to his aid.
may love thrive in hiding by Melime (M)
Only a few years after being given the Holy Water by Aziraphale, Crowley is faced with a threat he hadn't expected. He's summoned by a human wishing to gain eternal life, and that man won't take no for an answer. Meanwhile, Aziraphale overhears a conversation at an occult bookshop that makes him worry for Crowley. By the time Aziraphale finds him, Crowley is severely injured and may beyond hope for healing, but his love won't allow Aziraphale to stop trying. Can Aziraphale find a way to save him, or is he too late?
- Mod D
45 notes · View notes
danisbrainrot · 3 days
Text
jackie taylor x reader
how have I not written about her yet??? anyways, doing the lord's work (aka what shauna should have done).
everyone stood in shock, watching as jackie stormed out of the room after her explosive argument with shauna. you glanced at the door and back at shauna, unsure whether or not to chase after her or stay and comfort your friend.
tai was by shauna's side immediately, comforting her as the girl sobbed into her chest. still, none of the girls made a move to follow jackie outside.
you weren't stupid. it was hard not to notice how it was getting colder recently, or how all the animals were stocking up and going into hibernation. you knew winter was just around the corner, and feared that jackie could fall prey to it.
you didn't want to be that girl who followed after her, since shauna was a good friend to you and you didn't want to show her you were picking sides. however, you knew that if you didn't do something, no one else would; jackie was one of the most stubborn people you'd ever met, she wasn't going to come inside on her own volition. no, she'd have to be convinced.
at first, you found yourself standing above coach ben, who was still shocked from watching the argument unfold. "coach, you need to do something about that. jackie can't sleep outside," you whisper, glancing back to see if anyone was watching you.
he shook his head, "sorry, but I don't want to get involved in you girls' arguments," he replies, groaning softly as he moves to readjust himself into a better position.
"you're an adult. jackie will listen to you," you beg, but to no avail. ben shakes his head and refuses again, forcing you to look elsewhere. your eyes land on nat, who—granted held a bit of disdain for your captain—would surely see the consequences of leaving jackie outside to freeze.
however, you were no longer sure when travis pulls her in and whispers something in her ear; they both glance towards the door and you knew they'd be no help.
you stared out the window, watching jackie's pathetic attempt at starting a fire with pity. she really wasn't made for the wilderness, that was obvious. it was clear from day one she wouldn't contribute much, since all she'd done was complain, whinge and refuse to help with the chores. but you still remember the sweet and inspiring team captain on your soccer team; you can't help wonder what went wrong.
finally having enough, you quickly slipped outside, going unnoticed by no one. you'd take the dirty glares and rude comments if it meant coercing jackie back inside. you always listened to your gut rather than what people had to say, and right now, your gut was yelling at you to go talk to her.
jackie's gaze lingers on you as you sit beside her. after a beat of silence, she crosses her arms over her and chest and says, "if shauna sent you out here—"
"no one sent me out here," you reply, watching the flickering flames about to go out. it's silent again as you work up the nerve to beg her to come inside and she tried to work out why you were talking to her.
jackie sniffles, trying to hide the fact she'd been crying; it doesn't matter, since you can tell from her red eyes. "she's my best friend and she hates me," jackie mumbles, resting her arms against her legs and her chin on her lap. you're silent, happy to listen to jackie vent—it was for the best, because you weren't going to pretend to know anything about her relationship with shauna. "and you know what's the stupidest part? I don't even love jeff. . . I don't know if I even like him. she broke my heart and I don't know why."
"talk to her about it—and I mean talk, not argue," you reply earnestly, not sure how else someone was supposed to react to this situation. "you feel betrayed, and she feels overshadowed. you still have time to sort this out. fuck! we're in the woods and no one's coming to find us. you have plenty of time to tell her how you feel," jackie looks up at you with tears in her eyes. she's lost for words, and you smile at her gently, assuring yourself that she'd listen.
she shakes her head and sits up, however, making your smile fade. "no, she doesn't want to talk to me right now," jackie mumbles, kicking at one of the stones and accidentally sending it flying into the fire. "and I don't want to talk to her," she adds hastily, making you raise your eyebrow questioningly, "she's in the wrong, I shouldn't have to apologise to her," you roll you eyes at her stubbornness.
"fine, but I'm not leaving until you're inside with me," you snap. you watch her rub her arms up and down, and notice how chill the weather had gotten. was it always like this at night? how did jackie expect to survive through the night. "come on, jackie. I don't want to wake up in the morning to you looking like a smurf."
jackie burst into laughter, making you join too. "god, I'll be fine. don't worry. no frosty the snowman here," she promises. but you're no stranger to the cold. to snow. "I'll be alright, I just can't stand to look at her right now."
it falls quiet again, as you both mull over what she said. you can't help yourself, fearing the worst, you blurt out, "dying isn't worth it, y'know," she raises her eyebrows, "jackie taylor, you're the pettiest person I know. . . but to freeze out here because you're mad at shauna? that's a lot, even for you," you softly explain.
jackie scoffs, rolling her eyes before shivering again, "oh my god, I'm not going to die out here. I have a blanket, I'm wearing a jacket and a roaring. . . well, not roaring, but I have a fire," she points out. "it's not just gonna randomly snow in the middle of the night," you sigh, realising that she was convinced. there was no bringing her inside—and it was getting cold, even for you.
you bite your bottom lip, getting up to kiss her on the forehead. "I love you, okay? I don't want anything bad to happen to you," she looks up at you in shock, "come inside when you're ready, but please, don't stay out here all night. if not because of the weather, then because the wolves that attacked van are close by," she nods, and turns to face the weak fire again as you walk off.
"wait!" she calls out, standing up and chasing after you. your body fills with warmth as you silently rejoice at convincing her to come inside. "what do you mean you love me?"
you froze in your spot, feeling your heart race and your cheeks fill with heat. "I think you know," you reply, hoping that if she didn't feel the same way, she'd assume you were talking platonically.
jackie stares at you, breathing heavily, before she pulls you into a hug. "thank you, for caring enough to come out here," she whispers. you smile softly in return; she leans into you, kissing you gently on the lips. you were in shock for a moment, in complete disbelief that jackie liked you that way—that she liked girls that way. soon, you realised that the kiss was real, and that she wanted you; savouring the sweet moment, you mourned the loss of her lips on your own. "wow, your lips are so warm," you laugh at her, glancing back at the cabin ready to grab her hand when she flinched out of your grasp. "I'm not ready yet. . . stay out here with me?"
you nod, joining her to sit on the log again. you added some kindling to the fire as she snuggled up close to you. it was nice to feel her this close, and know she liked you back—even if it seemed like it was because she was lonely. it didn't matter to you, however, as you focused instead on the way she relied on you for warmth, and the way the flames danced.
after what felt like half an hour (but was closer to two hours) you notice the lights turning off, "it's cold, I'm going back inside," you announce.
jackie nods, "okay. I'll just be a little longer," she replies, shooting you a reassuring smile. you kiss her forehead again, and take sullen steps towards the cabin.
you glance at her once again, tempted to drag her inside, kicking and screaming, but you decide to leave her be. you receive dirty glares when you come back inside. you feel even smaller knowing you'd failed to bring her back in, so it was for nothing.
you accidentally lock eyes with mari, before glancing back at the ground. once you reached the fireplace to warm up, that's when the comments began. "of course you'd chase after jackie," mari snipes, shaking her head.
"it's so cold outside! I was worried she'd actually sleep out there and freeze," you reply, defending yourself.
you heard tai scoff, and looked for shauna, only to find her missing. "she chose to go outside," van mumbles, staring at the floor to avoid your gaze. you stare at her in disbelief.
you glance around the room, seeing no one agree with you—not even misty. nat and travis stared at the ground, also avoiding your eyes. "guys, now is not the time to be petty, she could've been in serious danger," you cry. no one responds, and you can't help but groan and roll your eyes.
"we saw you kiss her," misty announces. you look taken aback, but don't say anything. "three times," she adds, and you bite back the retort you were ready to sling at her.
instead you walk towards your bed, slipping under the sheets and pretending like you didn't notice everyone's gaze on you. eventually, tai heads upstairs and you hear everyone shuffle into their beds—but still no jackie.
your eyelids grow heavy, and as they do, you could swear you hear a door creak open. you smile in your dreamy state, knowing that jackie had finally come back inside. . .
"no, no, no, no, no!" shauna screams, jumping over you and racing outside. you jolt awake, your heart racing as you look around at all the confused faces of the girls. suddenly, it occurs to you, jackie's not one of them.
scrambling to your feet, you and tai are the first ones out the door after shauna. you have no idea why she's carrying on when you finally realise the ground had changed from green to white overnight. shauna was hunched over something in the snow, which at first glance, looked like a log.
it takes you a minute to process the scene in front of you; when it does, it feels like you've been hit by a train. your stomach drops and you feel your heart shatter into a million pieces.
shauna was on her hands and knees, screaming and crying while shaking her best friend. "jackie, wake up!" she wails. tai is by her side immediately, holding onto her and trying to comfort her.
your hand flies to your mouth as you begin to sob as well. no, no! this isn't right! jackie came inside last night! I heard her! you can't help but think. you could've sworn the door was opened. . . but here jackie was, covered in a blanket of snow, as you fell to your knees and mourned the girl you'd had a crush on since middle school.
you feel a pair of arms on your shoulders, as you lean into them for comfort, letting your tears run freely. you couldn't stand to look at the sight anymore without feeling guilty. you'd done everything you could, but was that truly enough? you should've done more! you should've dragged her inside! slapped some sense into shauna or the coach! you should have stayed by her side! tried harder to convince her! or at least kept her warm all night!
but you didn't, and you knew that would haunt you til your dying breath.
42 notes · View notes
Text
Knock Before Entering
Tumblr media
Chapter 13
Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader
Summary: Thorin will have to exercise a great amount of restraint to not maim Kili and Fili, and when it comes time to grace the Wandering Widow with an encore performance you will have to find a way to take the stage with the rest of the company being none the wiser.
Warnings: no use of y/n, angst, 18+, NSFW, minors do not interact, brief descriptions of bloody wounds/injuries, mentions of sex work if you squint
Author's Note: This chapter ended up being waaaaaay longer than anticipated so I've broken it up into multiple sections. Which means the next one is already mostly done🥳 Thank you all so much for the love for the previous chapters and the cockblocking nephews😂
Word count: 2505
“Sooo,” Kili tries to suppress a smile as you pull the last shards of glass from the cut on his hand. “How long has this been going on?” He looks over his shoulder at his uncle, who is sitting in a chair across the room. Arms crossed over his chest and a scowl etched on his face, Thorin hasn’t said a word since you were cock blocked by his nephews. Instead, he elected to just pull his shirt back on and remain in the room, brooding in the corner while you patched up Kili.
Fili still remains in the doorway, refusing to step foot in the room as if that will help save him from his uncle’s simmering rage.
“You know I have some sewing supplies,” you remind Kili. “If you irritate me enough I could decide this wound is in dire need of stitches.”
“He only wants to know whether we won the bet or not,” Fili sighs from the doorway.
You lift a brow in question, not lifting your gaze as you continue cleaning his brother’s wound. “The entire company placed bets on how long it would take the two of you to jump into bed together.”
Your head snaps up, immediately looking over at Thorin. He doesn’t meet your gaze, he just tips his head back to the ceiling with a heavy sigh.
“When did this happen?” you scoff.
“In Bag-end,” Kili winces when you start to apply the salve to his palm. “The others will be relieved to hear the wait is over.”
“The others don’t need to know,” you warn him as you reach for the roll of gauze beside you. As you do you catch Thorin’s gaze. Finally falling back on you, his eyes are filled with an emotion you can’t quite place.
You had expected him to agree with you. But instead, he looks…surprised. Like he hadn’t expected you to be so adamant about hiding your complicated relationship from the others.
Everything is still so messy and new. You don’t even know what you would call it yet.
You’re certainly not courting. Thorin could never be formally involved with someone from your background. He is a king. And a king is meant to marry a proper lady of good standing. Not a rebellious half-dwarf such as yourself. If there’s one you know, it’s that you are not meant to be his queen.
So does that make you… lovers? The term makes you cringe. It implies a much longer relationship than the situation will allow. This will only last as long as the journey to Erebor. Thorin will marry another and you will be on your way with the mountain at your back once again. This is all meant to be a temporary arrangement. If anything, it feels more like you have stumbled across an alternative way to tolerate each other’s presence.
These days it feels like the two of you only get along when you have your limbs are tangled together in secret.
And Thorin hasn’t exactly gone out of his way to make your relationship known to the others. He isn’t the kind of person to indulge in any kind of public displays of affection or to insist on putting a label on whatever it is the two of you have. Perhaps you misinterpreted his desire for privacy as an agreement to keep your relationship a secret.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost say Thorin looks hurt that you want to hide it. The look he gives you brings a stab of guilt into your chest. Tearing your gaze from him, you busy yourself with binding Kili’s hand. Whether you misread things or not, Thorin still takes your side regardless.
“What either of us do behind closed doors is no one else’s business,” he grumbles at his nephews. “Let this be a lesson to the both of you on the courtesy of knocking before entering.”
“Did uncle knock before entering you?” Kili whispers with a smirk and Thorin jumps from the chair so quickly it clatters to the floor. Fili leaps from his place in the doorway fast enough to block his path to Kili.
You quickly tie off the bandage and rise to your feet, inserting yourself between Fili and Thorin before they can start throwing punches.
“That’s enough,” you hiss at the both of them. Thorin still has murder in his eyes as he towers over you, glaring at his nephews.
“He was only joking,” Fili defends his brother, who’s now come to stand at his shoulder.
“I don’t want to hear either of you speak about her in such a manner again,” Thorin growls at them.
“Please forgive me,” Kili looks at you with a genuine nod of remorse, before stifling a laugh when he whispers “auntie” under his breath.
Thorin goes to take another step towards him as the two start to snicker. You bring a firm hand to his chest before he can make it past you. “Quit it,” you hiss as you shoot a warning look his way. You can feel the barely suppressed growl in his chest beneath your fingertips, but he does as you say and remains planted firmly in place. Keeping your hand on his chest, you turn to look over your shoulder at the boys.
“We’re done here, so you’re both going to go back to your room and go to bed.” You instruct. “And neither of you will breathe a word of this to anyone. Otherwise, those eagles will send you back to your mother in pieces. Understand?”
They both nod their heads grimly. Knowing better than to test you when you’re this close to resorting to violence. They silently turn to leave.
You walk them out. Latching the door firmly closed behind them and sliding the lock in place.
Letting your hand linger on the rusted metal, you dread turning to face Thorin now that it’s just the two of you again.
This time being alone together doesn’t carry the same implication. The moment has officially passed. The previous mood dead and buried.
With a steadying breath, you turn to face him. And just as you predicted Thorin is looking at you with an expression you’re all too familiar with lately.
“Care to explain what that was about?” he crosses his arms over his chest again.
“You’re the one who didn’t lock the door,” you deflect as you brush past him to the bed. Beginning to pick up the discarded supplies and tossing them back into your bag.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” he grumbles. “Why didn’t you want them to tell the others?”
“Why is that so wrong?” you turn to face him again, a hand on your hip. “Are you obligated to keep the company informed on everyone you sleep with?”
“No, but I don’t feel the need to go out of my way to hide it.”
“If you want to be the one to answer the endless tirade of questions about us, be my guest Thorin,” you roll your eyes. “Questions that I’m not sure either of us even have the answer to.”
“Only because we haven’t discussed it,” he reminds you.
“Is that really how you want to pass the time now that they’re gone?” you set a hand on your hip with a scoff. “Talking?”
He clenches his jaw, taking a step closer to you.
Your breath catches in your chest as you look up at him towering over you.
“I can’t help how much you infuriate me,” he growls, bringing a hand up to run through your hair. “No one drives me as crazy as you do.” His hand slowly comes to the side of your face, caressing your cheek.
“Every time you open your mouth I lose control.” He starts to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, watching in awe as you wrap your lips around the digit, beginning to suck. He growls as you gently scrape your teeth over his skin.
His other hand wraps around your waist, beginning to pull you in closer to him. You bring your hands to his chest, sliding them up the hard planes of his pectorals.
As your hands slide up, his starts to slide down. He grabs a handful of the soft flesh of your ass, eliciting a moan from you around his thumb.
Knock knock
You both groan and turn to glare at the offending door yet again.
“Not now,” Thorin shouts but the knocking persists.
Reluctantly stepping away from you with a huff, Thorin stalks over to the door. Unlatching it and yanking it open roughly.
Gandalf stands in the doorway. “Apologies for the interruption,” he says. Not looking the least bit sorry as his gaze bounces between the two of you in a knowing look.
“Can this wait?” Thorin grumbles at the wizard.
“I’m afraid not,” he replies, “we need to discuss the path we’re going to take for the journey ahead. The others are already gathered down in the kitchen for supper.”
“Very well,” he huffs, looking over his shoulder at you. “Shall we?”
“Actually,” Gandalf raises a hand to halt you both before you can head out the door. “Your assistance is needed in the tavern.”
He gives you a pointed look and you sneak a glance out the window behind you. The sun is already going down. You had promised Bertram you would put on your encore performance at sunset tonight.
“Ah yes,” you clear your throat, “I…promised one of the barmaids I would help her with some… lady troubles.”
Thorin raises a brow in confusion. “Can’t it wait? You’ll miss supper.”
“Oh, I’m afraid lady troubles never wait. I’ll join you all later.”
You shoulder your way past the two of them, Thorin looking confused at your abrupt departure.
You shoot Gandalf a pointed look as you head for the stairs and he gives you a small nod in understanding. You can only hope that he fulfills his promise to keep the company occupied long enough for you to secure the night's lodgings
------------------------------------------------------------------------
“You’re late,” Bertram grumbles from behind the bar. “The crowd’s starting to get antsy.” He nods to the restless patrons filling the dimly lit room. The musicians are already tuning their instruments and drunken folk from the nearby towns gather around the stage impatiently.
Considering it was on such short notice, you’re quite impressed word traveled this quickly. You already recognize many regulars in the audience from when you would take to the stage on a nightly basis.
“Apologies,” you mumble while pulling up the sheer fabric at your chest yet again. “I had some wardrobe troubles.”
Either you’re misremembering how uncomfortable the costume was or it’s somehow become tighter and itchier since the last time you wore it.
There are several loose layers of fabric over your hips and chest that are meant to be removed with a flourish throughout the performance. But it’s the pieces underneath that cling tightly to your body. They cover the only parts that will be left to the imagination so you don't want to risk them slipping off.
“Pretty sure this is the only profession where wardrobe malfunctions work to your benefit sweetheart,” he scoffs nodding to the musicians on stage to signal your arrival.
“Now break a leg, and make me some money,” he waves you off and you saunter away towards the stage.
The musicians begin to strum the opening of a familiar melody and the crowd starts to hoot and holler as you slowly climb the steps to center stage.
Blowing a kiss and waving to the crowd your feet tread a familiar path as your hips start to sway, seemingly of their own accord.
Muscle memory kicks in as you let yourself get carried away by the music. Swaying and twirling, smiling and winking as the onlookers cheer.
The music rises to a crescendo and with a roll of your neck and a flip of your hair, you begin to ever so slowly slip the fabric off of your shoulders.
It flutters to the ground, leaving nothing but a long strip of fabric covering your upper body.
Everyone cheers, and you lift your arms above your head with a dazzling smile. Maintaining the pose just long enough for them to drink in the sight.
Continuing your path across the stage, familiar patrons start to clamber closer to the edge of the stage. You’ve done this routine so many times they know the grand finale is drawing near.
With another spin, you quickly slip the tie at your hip free. Holding it taut in your hand your eyes quickly scan for a volunteer.
A big burly man with a long beard calls out your name with a cheer, holding his drink high overhead in a toast. You extend the piece of fabric out to him and he gladly accepts.
“Hold on tight,” you instruct with a wink and he does exactly that. Holding the end of the fabric in place, you begin to twirl away from him in a whirlwind, the skirt unraveling around you as you do so.
The crowd goes wild as the rest of the fabric disappears, sliding down your legs to pool at your feet as you strike another pose showing off your now bare legs.
Gingerly stepping over the pile of fabric you resume your dance, twirling to the other end of the stage.
Your next move is to reverse the movement and travel in the exact opposite direction. But before you can, a strong pair of arms reach around your waist from behind, dragging you backwards off the stage.
With a shout, you are abruptly set on your feet in front of the absolute last person you want to see right now.
“What are you doing?!” Thorin growls, keeping a firm grip on you as his eyes take in the very small amount of fabric in such a public place.
“I’m a little busy right now,” you hiss. The crowd has already started to shout in protest and the musicians have stopped playing, looking at each other in confusion.
You’re more than a little pissed they let someone just grab you from off the stage but that’s a conversation for another time.
You try to pull yourself from his grasp, if you get right back up there and finish the performance you’re sure you can remedy the situation.
Bertram is already pushing through the crowd, red in the face with his sights set on you.
Thorin’s grip only tightens on your arms, a muscle in his jaw tensing. He releases you for a brief second, and you foolishly think he's letting you have your way. But before you can climb back on stage, he is suddenly wrapping his cloak around your bare skin and tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"You and I are going to have a little talk," he growls as he carries you out of the tavern kicking and screaming.
Taglist:
@mrsdurin @thetaekwondofeline @enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog
@exhausted-humxn-being @marsmallow433 @sverdgeir
@champagne-glamour@yve-barr @krampus236 @nerdthickly
@lyl1pad @bruhk @eri-s-big-sis
30 notes · View notes
poison-demon · 2 days
Text
Cuddling times... (Fluff!🌸)
Tumblr media
Cuddling up to a very tired, yet clingy aether; seems easy but boy is it hard-
TW: None! Just fluff (No paimon in this either wooooo)
I was bored so i decided to write something that will make me feel comfortable looking back to read it :3
GN!Reader
Tumblr media
You came home after a mission to find a very clingy and tried Aether tackling you to the couch; usually this would be a good thing if it weren't for you needing to use the restroom.
"Aether, Darling, you know I love you but could you please let me go? I'll be back i swear." You said to your charming loving boyfriend aether that was cuddling you.
You swore you could almost hear him say no, you chuckled to yourself before trying to untangle yourself from your clingy wet golden retriever
Keyword: Tried
Aether just held onto you tighter before saying something you could quite make out. "Aether, hun, I really need to use the restroom; if you let me go I'll give you all of my love when I come back m'kay?" You said in a loving tone.
After he heard that he let you go, sat up slowly, and rubbed his eyes.
"Fine, you better be back in 5 minutes though or I won't let you go for a whole hour" Aether said in an almost needy voice. Of course you paid no attention to it and just got up to use the restroom.
When you came out of the restroom he practically climbed on you like a kola who found their favorite branch to sleep on. You could only laugh a tiny bit before dragging him and yourself to your shared bedroom.
"I'm back aether, don't worry I'm not going anywhere for the rest of the day" you said as you softly played with his hair and giving him a few kisses here and there.
Soon you drifted off into dreamland with him.
Tumblr media
Just wanted to write a quick little fluff cuddle story as I haven't written anything in a hot minute, hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
21 notes · View notes
oceansssblue · 13 hours
Note
If you're still taking clone requests, I would LOVE to see something cute and domestic! A couple ideas I've been rotating in my head lately:
-Fives and reader messing around in the kitchen together, making dinner, dancing to stupid music and teasing each other's cooking skills, which inevitably ends in a huge mess (and dinner probably being forgotten about...)
-Wrecker getting sick and being forced into bed despite trying to keep working. It's totally against his will at first, but soon he starts to enjoy the chance to be soft and gentle. The reader finally convinces him to let them take care of him for once, assuring him that he doesn't always have to be the strong one
-Echo and the reader discussing starting a family, Echo expressing his doubts about what kind of father he would be and the reader reassuring him, telling him how much they love watching him with Omega and how good a father he'd be. The more they talk about it the more excited Echo gets at the idea
Hope these sparked something for you! Have a great day :)
Okay okay! Decided to do the two bottom ones as I've already done a kitchen fluffy one with fives and got a few for him requested as well (one of which I'll be working on next).
They're short, since I wanted to do both of then in the same post under the cut. Hope you like them, enjoy!
"BED REST"
TBB REQUESTS– WRECKER/GN READER 📩💖
WARNINGS: none
Somehow, inherently with being a big, strong person, Wrecker was used to helping people. Maybe it was just Wrecker's personality on itself; the way he felt truly happy when taking care of someone, being part of the solution to someone's problem. Wether it be physicall help or kind words, it made him feel warm.
What Wrecker wasn't used to, however, was to be taken care of. Well, he had a very close relationship with his brothers, and they always had an eye out for each other; but it wasn't like that. It didn't soothe any deeper emotional part of him. It was more of a... physical safety check of sorts. Tech had actually suggested to integrate a monthly therapy session to talk about their respective feelings years ago; but it hadn't ended up being a reality, lost instead in his never ending line of hypothetical ideas.
Maybe that's the reason why Wrecker doesn't say anything about the way he's feeling himself. Maybe that's the reason why he puts up a big smile on his face and sits through the presentation of your project as if he's not feeling downright awful. He's so kind and sweet even in his state you don't even notice it until you're actually home with him; and you see him pulling up an uncomfortable expression when he watches you take out some pasta from your fridge.
"Wrecker?" You look at him confused and slightly worried. "Are you feeling okay, honey?"
Wrecker tries to smile again; but his expresion falls and he quickly takes a hand to his stomach, putting slight preasure to it.
You frown and close the fridge, abandoning the tupper back inside of it and aproaching him closely. You carefully place your hand on his wide shoulder.
"Sweetheart, are you feeling ill?" You guess.
Wrecker hesitates.
"Oh, it's nothing" he quickly answers, even with his face twisting in pain. "Just my stomach being whinny".
You smile and caress his shoulder. Poor Wrecker, trying to ignore himself to push through your presentation and make you happy. You can't have him suffering.
"Why don't you go lay down on bed for a bit? I'll make you some tea and be right there" you suggest.
Wrecker frowns in disagreement.
"Oh, no, love, there's no need. I'm fine, really. I'll probably be as good as new in a pair of hours".
You're a little confused as by why he's so reluctant to admit he's not doing good and let you help. You try to soothe him with another caress and a smile; gentle expression on your face.
"And you can rest til you do" you insist, softly but firm, leaving no space for him to evade you.
Wrecker glances to the side.
"Oh, uh... Love..." he suddenly exhales deeply, as if surrendering, and adds in an embarassed tone "I just don't want you to feel like you need to fuss over me. I can take care of myself".
You blink slowly. Ah. You might be starting to see the problem. Maybe it's related with the fact that he's a soldier; always the hero, the saviour, and not the damsel in distress. Maybe it's just that he's Wrecker; always strong and efficient. Well...
"You don't have to be strong with me all the time" you whisper to him, closing up the distance between each others faces and nuzzling your nose with his, affectionately. "I know you can take care of yourself, Wreck, but I want to take care of you too".
Wrecker sighs, and you know you've almost got him convinced, so you continue.
"You always take such good care of me, love. I want to take care of you now. Wanna make you feel loved and safe. Let me, please?"
Wrecker melts and finally nods. You give him a little smile and direct him to your bedroom. Your boyfriend slowly lays in bed, with his back against the wall, watching you hesitantly; you give him a peck on the cheek before returning to the kitchen and quickly putting up together the best of your teas. You think it might help to settle Wrecker's stomach.
You go back to your bedroom with it in your hand; and you carefully pass it to Wrecker, who inmediately gives it an exploratory sip. He humms in aproval; and you find a spot besides him, both of your thighs pressed together.
You patiently wait til Wrecker has finished his tea and has left the empty cup on your nightstand. Then, you slowly direct the clone to scooch downwards and place his head on your lap. You caress his head, then his shoulders and chest; soothing patterns with the sole purpose to comfort him.
Wrecker melts. This was better than what he had thought of at first. He thought it might be uncomfortable, relinquishing control to some other person, being the one in need; but oh, this is great, with your soft hands and your tender words. He might grow to even like it.
Your hands squeeze a sore spot on his shoulder and he groans.
Yeah. He will.
THE END.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"TO PLAN A FAMILY"
TBB REQUESTS – ECHO/F READER 📩💖
WARNINGS: Mentions of prosthetics and starting a family.
You first noticed it at the end of your first year dating Echo. The lingering glances, the way he seemed to grow lost in his thoughts, how he sighed deeply as if there was something pulling at his heart. You became observant throughout the first part of that second year together; and you reached your conclusion. It's always Hunter and Omega.
They're incredibly sweet, both of them. It's warming to see them interact together in their own special father and daughter relationship. Hunter's firm and always attentive; Omega in his teenager era trying to be more independent. Trying to show everyone she's capable, though you all know she is.
Inevitably, you start paying more attention to Echo's own interactions with the blond girl. For some reason, Omega has always saved a special spot on her heart for Echo; and since you returned with him to the Marauder after a last dangerous mission with Rex and the Rebellion, she has grown even closer to the man that holds your own heart.
It makes you melt, the way he takes care of her. How he teaches her and how he patiently waits for her to replicate his lesson; gentle hands redirecting her and a proud, small smile pulling on his lips when she achieves it. When things get hard, and Omega grows sad or restless, Echo talks her through it; voice soft but not masking reality, helping her understand and process that things can't always be as they want to, but that there's always a reason to keep trying. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest when you think on how many times this wonderful man has said those same words to himself.
"Echo" you whisper his name one night when you can't keep holding it in. He slowly turns in bed towards you and hums sleeply. You brace yourself for any possible reaction of his. "Do you ever want to have kids?"
At first, Echo seems to freeze. Then he blinks twice, as if he is trying to move on from the fact that you've actually asked him this question out loud; and then he sighs quietly.
"I don't know if I should, to start with" he answers, voice barely audible in the silence of your bedroom.
You frown, lost.
"Why not?"
Echo mirrors your position in front of him; laying on one side of his body with his prosthetic knees slightly bent and head resting on his left bycep.
His eyes move away from yours, glancing down in that reserved way of his that indicate he's feeling a mix of contradicting emotions. You know him well by now.
"We're not living the safest of lifes, cyare. What kind of father would I be if I had to dissapear to help Rex here and there, or put my son through a constant runaway? Besides... They just might get scared of me".
You know the last statement refers to his appearance –you haven't met him before, so you've always seen this shape of his hot as fuck–; and you gently clasp his shoulder with your hand.
"Don't say that" you answer, softly. "They won't. They won't care if you have methalic legs or arms or a headset. They'd love you just the same, just like I do. It's what good families do".
Echo stays silent, thoughtfull. He shimmies forward in bed so that you're touching now; one of your thighs quickly moving over his hip and snuggling together, noses touching and nuzzling slowly.
"Would you?" He finally asks you. "Have kids?"
Your heart beats steadily inside your chest. You can't lie to him.
"Yes" you whisper, hand moving to caress his cheek delicately. You sigh, wishful, and you confess "I love watching you with Omega. You've just got the perfect ammount of gentleness, firmness, patience and honesty. I can't help but imagine you crouching down to explain something to a little Echo as well".
You kiss him sweetly and whisper in front of his lips "You'd be a great father, riduur".
Echo makes a sound with the back of his throat, pulling you tigther towards him. You close your eyes in the embrace.
Echo pictures it in his mind. A smaller version of himself and you, a perfect mix, running around and asking innocent questions to the both of you. How you'd look with him in your arms and how much you'd both love him. It's so beautiful in his mind it suddenly hurts for it not to be real.
Echo hums and conceeds.
"We can talk thorugh it seriously tomorrow" he agrees, pulling a radiant hopeful smile on your face "But right now it's late, and we both need to sleep".
You nod enthusiastically. You know you won't be able to for at least another hour, too excited at the possibility of your recents dream becoming true; but you'll just close your eyes and listen to his steady heartbeat.
You give his lips a peck and glance downwards. You tap his prosthetics with your index.
"You gonna take this today, mesh'la?" You ask him casually.
Once thing you have learned is that Echo doesn't like his physical problems to be treated as if he were made of glass. He understands the empathy; but it makes him uncomfortable, sometimes. By now, after two years together, you've already perfectioned your ways; and the best one is to just be normal about it, not to avoid it or tone it down. Echo's dissabled, but not uncapable. There's an abism of a difference.
"Yeah" Echo answers, moving to search the joints and attachments to abandon his prosthetic legs to the side. "My hips hurt today".
You hum and patiently wait for him to pull them off, leaving them carefully on the floor, before he rolls back towards you and you instanctly welcome him back into your arms.
You kiss him again and yawn.
"We'll take a warm bath tomorrow and I'll give you a nice massage afterwards" you offer, growing sleepy.
Echo smiles.
"You're too good to me" he whispers, cuddling closer.
You hum in disagreement.
"I'm as good as you deserve".
That night, you both dream of your own little family.
THE END.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
taraaaa! Two in one love, u can't complain! Hahahaha. I hope you liked them, they ended up really fluffy and sweet on my opinion.
I'll be writing either a Fives or Tech request next, stay stunned!
Xx,
Sky.
Back to general masterlist here!
19 notes · View notes
trulyumai · 2 days
Text
His Little Wife
Tumblr media
Synopsis: Messmer is away, fending off the shadows of the land; for weeks, months, his wife awaits his return until finally, she's by her husbands side once more.
Pairing: Messmer x Reader (Pre-Fallen Messmer)
Warnings: None
A/N: Finals are kicking my ass. RIP to my GPA. Also, so anxious for the drop of the DLC, this man has invaded my thoughts. Because of no release yet, I can only go off of so much information/lore, some things I just had to fabricate.
Enjoy!
The crackling of fire danced across her pupils, illuminating the worried expression delicately held upon her face.
Glancing upon the door repeatedly, thoughts incessantly pushed and shoved into her mind. Fears, doubts, all involving one man.
Messmer; he was to return today. 
After a long voyage and incessant errands for his mother, he could finally retire home to his little cottage: his little wife.
With her index and thumb, she twirled the silver and gold inscribed ring placed upon her finger, circling it on and off as troubled worries paraded around with ease. 
Not being able to bear it once more she bolted up, needing something- anything to occupy the heavy mind she bore. 
Picking up the nearest broom, she heard a small, frail creaking of a door being unlatched. 
Her front door was inches open, the iron latch swung to and fro as the material of the door grinded against the floor. 
Pulling her shawl close, she skirted across the room before eyeing the garden entrance. It was pouring; the rain was coming sideways, she noticed, repeatedly making the woman blink the wet, unwanted drops from her lashes.  
The light shine from the Erdleaf flowers littered the stone clad walkway, making a perfect path to the cozy home the younger lady made home merely months prior. . 
Grabbing the door, she stubbornly tried to latch it closed once more, the wind fought with the action, pushing against it with a rebelling strength. 
Letting out a huff the girl placed herself entirely on the frame, letting the door shut with a loud slam. 
Reaching up and fiddling with the lock her hands were wet; slippery from the invaded droplets of rain. 
Finally having it closed her figure slouched against the wood, lightly out of breath and now soaked, the smell of petrichor invaded her senses, shoving past the natural wood and honey scent that usually parades around the cabin. 
It was then she noticed the figure standing just beside the fireplace, warming their limbs like they announced their being in the humble home. 
The tiny gasp that emitted through the air caught the gangly man's attention, slowly he tipped his head to the side to look at the woman. 
His darling wife. 
“Messmer,” shaky steps bounded towards the red-headed knight, to which he smiled at. Turning to meet her grasp he wrapped the length of his arms around her body and with ease lifted her so their gazes could meet, noses merely inches from one another. 
She laughed sweetly, touching the tip of her nose to his before descending down to place her plush lips onto his cracked and weathered ones. 
He was so tired, exhaustion seeped through his bones like a newfound plague and if he concentrated enough, little black dots would enter the spaces between his vision, signaling for the man to rest.
He ignored the blackened shapes, blinked them away as his little wife littered his battered face with small, sickly sweet kisses. 
“My Lady,” Oh, by the gods she missed the deep timber of his voice, how it resonated just right with her ears, nestled safely between her heart and mind, and echoed between the cavities of her chest. 
“I've missed you, Darling!” Tears sprung from the woman's face and he could do nothing but coax them away. His hands were massive, engulfing the whole side of her face before swooping under her eyes, dismissing the flowing liquid entirely. 
“And I, you. I apologize for the delay, my sweet, there were more filthy curses laying about than usual.” 
Ah, curses. It was his job to protect the golden order; lay waste to any ill fit redeemers that defied the natural rule. 
With Godwyn holding dominion over the Golden Order, he was soon to be King of Leyndell. Now, his mother stepped in, ordered more protection, and more soldiers to be present in the East and West ends of the capital. 
This meant that everyone had to be present and in support of his newfound excellency. Even Messmer. 
“They don't deserve you,” she mumbled against his neck, tracing her fingertips up and down the column of his throat. 
“Perhaps not, but mother does not seem to understand my devotion just yet.” 
He walked, not bothering to hold onto her as each of the woman's legs was tightly wrapped around his torso, with her arms looping around the muscles of his shoulders. 
Messmer reached out, grabbing the oak railing around the stairs before ascending up, trying but failing to ignore the sloppy kisses below his jaw. 
Noticing the kept bed he softly growled, grabbing the woman's legs with a newfound strength and lightly shoved her on the soft furs. 
“Thou hasn’t been sleeping?” 
It was then he took in her state; the darkened bags, messy hair and wrinkled clothing. 
Smiling sheepishly up at the man no words needed to be said, the answer was clear.
Blowing air from her mouth she moved the strands of hair that littered her face, they blew with the pressure, lightly tickling the man that stared down at the woman. 
Too tired to argue he sighed instead, shrugging off his armor and worn down boots.  
Not bothering to fall as gracefully as his wife he allowed his legs to give out, toppling onto the woman even as she let out a desperate squeak. 
Before entirely crushing her with his weight, he places his elbows on either side, digging his nose into the side of her face. 
He dreamed of this moment for weeks. 
The rain slammed against the wood of their home and usually, he would be worried of its pressure. 
But today, he would clear his mind. 
He would simply cease to be, with his darling little wife sleeping soundly under him. 
Yes, the order could wait. 
For how could he spread such a message of hope when his wife missed him so? 
16 notes · View notes
Text
gracefully, trying to get a fucking grip
Tumblr media
Summary: Gale finally makes his move in act 2 but the dark urge struggles to take hold. AO3 link Pairing: Resist fDurge (Nyx)/Gale
Notes: This was inspired by some gorgeous art by @kudzuoath The wild magic surge that happens is #39 on the dnd wild magic surge table I felt like none of bg3’s limited options were as whimsical as I wanted for this.
****
“Shadowheart!” Nyx shouted as one of the ghouls slashed through Gale’s throat and knocked him to the ground. She shot a panicked glance away from the winged Flaming Fist in front of her to try to spot the cleric only to see her standing between Isobel and a ghoul, not even registering the sorcerer’s shout over the chorus of screams that rang throughout the inn. 
Nyx quickly shot off a burning hands spell at Marcus before she misty stepped over to the wizard’s side. Lae’zel took her place in front of Marcus, blocking his path from the rest of the party refusing to let him pass and swinging down on him. Within four swings she had him disarmed, on the ground, and finally dead. 
It wasn’t over, of course, but with the biggest threat out of play, she took a moment to focus on Gale. His face was pale, eyes closed, hand grasping at the gaping wound on his neck. 
She ran a gentle hand over his hair as she poured a healing potion over the wound on his neck before shooting off a quick-spelled magic missile killing the ghoul that stood over them. 
Gale’s eyes opened, they were unfocused but he was alive. 
The final seconds of the battle unfolded around them but Shadowheart did find a moment to send a healing word Gale’s way that fully sealed the flesh of his throat. As the last ghoul was defeated the cries of terror died down into a general horrified silence. They’d spent the battle trapped in Isobel’s room and she shuttered to think of what carnage awaited them on the first floor. 
Most everyone ran from the cleric’s room to go assist the refugees and Harpers but Nyx stayed with her wizard for a minute, feeling the enormity of what they were facing for the first time as she stared at the mutilated former flaming fist that lay across the room. 
A weak cough brought her attention back to Gale who was holding her hand and looking up at her with a look she’d seen from him quite a lot the past couple of months; unmasked longing. He hardly ever tried to hide it, a trait she admired as someone who played all her feelings close to the chest. 
“How are you feeling?” Nyx asked after feeding him another potion and helping him into more of a seated position, though still in her arms. She didn’t feel ready to let go of him just yet and found her fingers tracing the delicate black lines that ran from his eyes down across his cheek. He was warm and alive and watching her with shining eyes.
“Much better thanks to you,” Gale said, a smile on his bruised and bloodied face. 
They were both quiet for a moment which might have been awkward if it wasn’t so charged. 
He broke the silence first, “It’s quite thrilling, to fight off such grim creatures as this region throws at us. Especially being at your side.”
He looked away briefly before continuing with slightly less confidence, “I, um, once read a book that explained in some detail the effect a brush with danger has on one’s desire for… other forms of stimulation.”
Nyx could feel a grin spreading across her face as his eyes finally met hers and he asked, “Have you ever read anything on that subject?” “Read it? I could have written the thing,” she said lightly but felt a pit in her stomach as she remembered the euphoria that usually accompanied her kills. She buried those thoughts though, something she was very good at doing, and focused instead on the handsome wizard.
“I believe you,” he reached up a hand to cup her cheek, “you never look so beautiful as at the end of a stirring battle, your cheeks flushed, gaze bright, muscles glistening…”
Nyx raised an eyebrow at him as her pace picked up a notch.
“Perhaps it’s just the thrill of our near-undead experience talking. But standings at your side through such darkness and disrepair, it only makes me want you more,” his fingers weaved into her hair and she leaned into his palm, closing her eyes for a moment. 
She’d wanted Gale for most of this journey she couldn’t even remember where she’d first felt it, possibly from the moment she’d pulled him from the portal, and until just a couple of days before he’d been beyond her reach. 
But she could have him now, she moved her fingers further along the lines on his face down his neck until her hand was resting over the orb and it began to glow faintly beneath her touch.
Before Nyx could say anything a throat cleared nearby and she looked up to see an aggravated Shadowheart. 
“Jaheira is asking for you, whenever you’re done mooning, of course,” she bit the words out at them but Nyx could hear the humor behind the irritation. The Sharran was gone before Nyx could reply and the two of them shared a laugh at her abrupt exit. 
“Unfortunately this is neither the time nor place to indulge such feelings. So, we must be patient and push all such thoughts aside,” Gale said tiredly as he tried to sit up more fully on his own. As he began to move out of her embrace though he kissed her cheek and added, “For now.”
The kiss was sweet and chaste with a promise of things to come but Nyx wanted more and before he could leave she grabbed his arm and pulled him into a kiss. Two months of pent up passion released between them and Nyx could feel her always tenuous hold on her wild magic slipping as his hands landed on her waist and pulled her body against his, drawing a small moan from her. 
All of the glances between them, the intimate moments cut short for fear of setting off the orb, the nights she’d touched herself and imagined him burst out between them in a wave of wild magic. 
She would suppose later they were lucky she didn’t summon a lava mephit instead, as if it had been choreographed, flowers and moss sprung up at their feet. They hardly noticed the new foliage as they kissed, lost in the moment and in what was to come. 
Nyx’s tongue slid between his lips and with a groan the wizard pulled her even closer. Peaking from beneath his robes the orb glowed brighter than it had a moment ago, its danger stripped by Elminster, she was able to simply enjoy the effect she was having on him. 
The purple glow slowly brought her back to her senses, if they didn’t get a move on Shadowheart would be stomping back in here again any moment. And so with a sigh, she pulled away, laying one more peck on his lips with a grin. 
Swiftly Gale bent down and grabbed a lovely yellow flower that he tucked into her circlet. 
“Tonight?” She asked, her tone was breathy, she couldn’t be bothered to pretend any longer. 
He nodded and cupped her cheek. “Till then.” 
She stayed behind a moment to quietly retrieve the tadpole from Marcus, feeling as disgusted about using them as she had the first time but also unable to deny how much they helped. The room was a mess a far cry from the quaint comfortable quarters they’d entered just a few minutes ago. It felt like the statue of Selûne was watching her as she looted Marus’s corpse and an unbidden fantasy played before her eyes of bludgeoning the cleric to death with it. 
“No,” she whispered to herself, to the urge, “I won’t do it.”
A sense of vertigo took over and the need to kill Isobel became one of the strongest urges she’d ever felt. 
She took some deep breaths and tried to stuff the feeling away again but as she continued to persist her head began to throb, pain worse than a rusty Goblin blade to the gut, she was blinded by it. The memory of the bard surfaced in her mind and a cold dread filled her, they would not linger at the Last Light her control was hanging by a thread. 
Through the pain, Gale’s concerned voice sounded, “Nyx? Can you hear me? Shall I get Shadowheart?” 
Fear gripped her at the thought of him seeing the monster that lived inside of her but the sound of his voice and the feel of his arms holding her up cleared away the worst of the nightmare, Gale had always chased away her darkness.
“Sorry, just vertigo, I’m alright,” Nyx said and gritted her teeth against the headache, “been a while since we’ve eaten.”
Lovely brown eyes watched her with concern but he nodded his head, taking her at her word, and leading her out of the room. 
“Then let’s get you something to eat,” he said with a look of adoration she didn’t deserve. 
Flower and fungi trailed in her wake as she went but when Gale pointed it out with a smile all she could see was a trail of blood and ruin. 
Ignoring the madness creeping in she smiled back, she was such a good liar she’d almost convinced herself.
18 notes · View notes