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auteurdelabre · 4 months

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So Much to Lose Chapter 3 Mean!Joel x f!Reader

So Much to Lose Chapter 3

Summary: Your second time on patrol with the recalcitrant Joel Miller proves... interesting.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 6.0k

Pairings: Mean!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions) , Ellie x Dina (future chapters)

Warnings: Joel ain't nice. Hand job (m receiving), mentions of come, dirty talk.

A/N: I hope you like it and if you do please reblog and all that good shit. Thanks y'all!

masterlist

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Chapter 3: You make the rules, remember?

"It's a healthy baby boy!"

There's a large round of applause in the cafeteria the next morning. Tommy is standing at the end of the long tables. Your book is spine -up next to your coffee cup.

"Douglas Joel Miller," Tommy announces. "Just over eight pounds."

You clap along with the rest of them, happy for Tommy and Maria. You love babies, so what's not to be happy about?

Maria is at home resting with their son and some friends Tommy says beaming, eyes wet as he's congratulated on all sides.

You're still sick about yesterday. You'd had to throw away all those clothes. No amount of scrubbing had taken the dried blood out of it. You're convinced you can still smell it, the cloying, metallic scent lodged in your nostrils. It lingers even now, ruining the bites of egg that you push around your plate. The only thing saved was the red scarf, buried in the confines of your jacket. It hangs how it always has, on the hook by your front door.

You watch Tommy accept the congratulations from everyone, looking strangely detached as they continue.

You try to focus on the book in front of you, but the words slide over your eyes and your mind just back to yesterday. To the fear you felt at being exposed and vulnerable. How are you expected to do this week after week?

You glance over to see Tommy smiling weakly and chatting with a group from the kitchen and you wonder if you can approach him about patrols.

"Can I sit here?"

You glance up from your book to see the teenage girl from yesterday, Ellie, smirking down at you, holding a tray of food. A quick glance tells you there are a lot of empty seats left so she's chosen this one on purpose. You almost shake your head no, not desiring the company or the attention right now.

But she kept your secret didn't she? She didn't tell Joel or anyone else about the greenhouse as far as you know.

After a moment's pause you nod, shifting your tray towards you and going back to your book.

She sits abruptly, her tray clattering across from you. She doesn't have the usual breakfast food that others do. She has grilled cheese, a cup of milk and what looks like pudding. Strange girl.

You'd assumed that your lack of engagement, your eyes on your book, your head tilted away from her that Ellie would get the message. She could sit with you for breakfast but that was it. But from the moment she sits, she talks.

"I love grilled cheese."

"Mmm."

"Never had it til I got here. Now I eat it whenever I can." Ellie takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully.

"Mhmm."

"Before we got here it was Chef Boy-ar-dee ravioli every fucking night. You ever had it?"

"Can't say I have." You turn the page in your book.

"Joel introduced me to it," Ellie says, taking another bite and not noticing when you tense up at his name. "You know Joel?"

"Nope," you lie.

The last thing you want is to talk about Joel Miller when you don't have to. You don't push for more information so the two of you continue to eat in silence. You know that Ellie is watching your face, silently studying you.

"So do you always hide out in the greenhouse?"

"No."

"Were you supposed to be in there?"

You sigh. "Nope."

"Then why were you?"

You sigh again heavily, closing your book with a soft thwap. There will obviously be no more reading this morning. Not with your new guest sitting across from you with curious eyes.

"I just wanted some quiet," you explain patiently. "I have. . . There's a lot going on for me and I feel safe when I'm in there."

There's something about Ellie's eyes that coaxes that truth out of you, the part about feeling safe.

"S' how I feel in the garage."

"The garage?"

"Joel's garage. Well, I guess it's like my place. No cars or anything here obviously. I've ridden in one though." She tells you this with pride. You hide a grin, amused. "I have it decorated exactly how I want and the bed is really comfy. Joel says I can do whatever I want in there except smoke."

"S'a bad habit," you acknowledge.

"Yeah, but that's where I feel safest. When I'm in there but I know Joel's just on the other side of the door if I need him."

You don't know what to say in reply to that. You can't imagine a world in which Joel Miller's presence would make you feel calm.

Ellie chews thoughtfully a moment longer and you see the questions there in her dark eyes.

"What was your favorite thing about before?"

"Before what?"

Ellie makes a motion around the room and you understand. She means before the outbreak. Before things changed. You ponder this a moment before smiling at the first thing that pops into your mind.

"Pop Tarts."

"What the fuck is that?" Ellie asks wrinkling her nose. "Candy?"

"Breakfast pastry," you say with a fond look at the memory. "Strawberry filling. Delicious. Had one every day while I walked to school."

Ellie is fascinated by this and you realize she'll never know a world that's not ravaged by plague. She'll never understand the freedom of your lost youth.

"Have you had one since?"

"Nah," you shake your head. "But I like the memory of them. If I close my eyes and focus I can almost taste it."

You do so now, remembering the way your mom pulled them from the toaster warm and crispy. The way---

You stop, snapping your eyes open. You'd forgotten the inherent danger that came along with the lure of nostalgic memory.

"Anyway..."

Ellie sees something in your face and excuses herself, claiming she needs more milk. You just nod, about to open your book again when another shadow is cast.

Christ, when did you get so popular?

A woman, (Jennifer you think her name is?) is looking sweetly at you. She's just come over from a table of giggling young women. She's very beautiful. You often see her at the Tipsy Bison with whatever bachelor strikes her fancy.

"Hey, are you on C Patrol?"

"I am," you nod.

"The one with Joel Miller?" Jennifer says with a poorly concealed smirk. You give her a strained look, confused at the reaction.

"Uh yeah."

"What's he like?" Jennifer is blushing prettily, trying not to giggle.

"Serious."

Jennifer smiles again. A big, broad smile that makes her lovely face even lovelier. You hold in an eye roll. Oh, now you see where this is going.

"I tried to get put on patrols with him," she confides, her voice dropping. "I'm on Patrol B."

What?

Here you are fighting tooth and nail to get away from Joel Miller and there's someone who actually wants to be on patrols with him? This is your answer to prayer, you're sure of it.

"Why don't we switch then?" You ask, eyes bright. Jennifer looks beside herself with delight, her light eyes rounding.

"Are you serious?"

"You can ask Tommy right now," you enthuse pointing at him on the opposite side of the room. "I'm totally fine with the swap."

"Really?" She looks delighted.

"Really," you nod, trying not to look over eager. You’re worried she’ll grow suspicious of your exuberance but she just smiles and walks off quickly towards Tommy who looks deep in conversation with one of the women on perishables duty.

You go back to your book just in time for Ellie to come back. You immediately notice her contraband; an additional glass of milk.

"Gonna get in trouble."

"Only if you say something," Ellie drawls. "But if you do I might just have to say something about a certain greenhouse..."

You shoot her an amused look before going back at your book. She seems to sense that you need quiet, glancing around the bustling canteen as you fall back into the pages of your book.

You find yourself irritated when Jennifer saunters back to your table, interrupting the comfortable silence.

"He says that we have to stick with our original patrol partners," Jennifer says with a frown. "Says that they match partners up by skill."

Joel is well known as the most skilled aside from Tommy. You can only assume this means you are the worst. You try not to look as devastated as you feel as you force a shrug.

"Oh well, you tried."

You expect her to leave but Jennifer lingers looking torn.

"Maybe if you ask Joel directly?" She hedges, trying not to sound desperate and feeling miserably. "Maybe then he could talk to Tommy himself?"

From the corner of your gaze you catch Ellie giving you a wary look, the walls behind her eyes being rebuilt with every word Jennifer says.

"You're welcome to talk to Joel," you reply smoothly. "You can tell him I'm fine with the swap. Eager for it, actually."

You don't miss the hard look that's come into Ellie's eyes now. You regret lying to her before.

Jennifer looks thoughtful before nodding. "Okay, maybe I will. Thanks."

She gives a wave before sauntering off towards a group of her giggling friends. You hold in an eye roll and open your book.

Ellie is still staring at you. "I thought you said you didn't know Joel."

"Didn't want to hurt your feelings," you admit, not looking up from the page. "He and I don't exactly see eye to eye."

"Not a lotta people do with Joel," Ellie relents, tilting back in her seat to stare at you. "He's tough to get through to."

And yet she did. This tiny teenage girl who talks too much and asks so many questions.

How?

You consider asking before you realize you really don't care to know Joel Miller. So far you've seen nothing about him that seems worth getting to know.

"Yeah, well he seems to have a very specific distaste for me," you say poking at your eggs.

"Don't take it personally," Ellie tells you as if she is full of sage wisdom. "Joel's all bark no bite."

You don't believe that for a second. You think of the dead doe. You think of the blood soaking through your clothes. You think of how he said not one word to you the entire way home.

"Just a personality conflict," you end on. You want to go back to your book but feel Ellie's eyes still on you.

"You wanna know how to make Joel like you?"

Not particularly.

"Sure."

"Don't lie to him. Or me," Ellie says. "We can't stand liars."

You don't know me, you think curious that this girl has chosen to open up to you at all. What makes you think you can trust me at all?

A girl with a long, glossy black braid stops by the table ending your conversation. Her dark eyes immediately alight to Ellie's second milk helping.

"Is that your second one?" The girl asks, her face cloudy. "You know you're not supposed to take extra."

"Fuck off, Dina," Ellie snaps, her eyes flashing.

"I should tell Tommy," Dina says with a narrowing of her dark eyes.

"Go on then," Ellie dares her.

"She got it for me," you break in, plucking the milk from Ellie's tray. "I didn't get one yet."

Dina's eyes sail to you but her scowl remains. She gives your tray a once-over before rolling her eyes.

"She's so annoying," Ellie says rolling her eyes and digging back into her breakfast.

Yet her eyes linger on the girl as she strides past your table to join another group of teens at the far end of the cafeteria. There's a pink to Ellie's cheeks that doesn't go unnoticed by you. But just as she kept your secret, you will keep hers.

She sits with you a few minutes longer watching you read before she gives a quick goodbye and marches out into the day. You're relieved to be away from her scrutiny.

Tommy passes several groups before he notices you hunched over your breakfast. You look up in time to see him slide into the seat Ellie was just occupying. With a sharp sigh you slip your paperback into your coat pocket. Fuck reading today apparently.

"Hey there, how was your first patrol?"

Your initial reaction is to tell him everything in detail. How horrible Joel is, how you never want to do patrols again. That you need to get switched to another job because patrols aren't for you. Instead you give a timid shrug.

"I'm not very good at it."

Tommy is amused, the curve his cheek crinkling as he chuckles. "I'm sure that's not true."

"Go ahead and ask your brother," you mutter, frowning.

"I did. He didn't say anything about you being bad at it."

This is surprising. When you and Joel had arrived back at Jackson with the doe he hadn't said two words to you. Just grunted at you when you dropped your end of the carcass and told him you were leaving.

You squint at Tommy for a moment trying to decipher what game Joel is playing at. You decide that perhaps he didn't want to worry his brother. That he wanted Tommy to think that patrols went well because Tommy had enough to worry about with his son being born.

"So are you still gonna switch patrols with him then?" You ask lightly, trying not to sound eager. "Now that the baby's here safe?"

Tommy's normally playful eyes are soulful. You read concern there. You read fear. They drop to the knotted wood of the table.

"Not for a bit," Tommy says honestly. His voice drops to a quiet whisper, not wanting to be overheard. "Didn't want to tell everyone but Maria's not doing so good."

Concern gnaws at your lower belly. "She sick?"

Tommy's long fingers begin picking away at a chip in the table that doesn't exist. You wait for him to continue, holding the silence there.

"In a way, kinda. She uh, she doesn't really wanna see the baby. S'why her friends are over there now with him."

You recognize this, the sign of a whispered malady that has followed women of all races across centuries. You cannot imagine the impact of giving birth to a child who will live in captivity amongst an undead world. You cannot imagine the mental toll it would take.

You're not demonstrative by nature, especially with people you don't know well. But you see the welling of Tommy's dark eyes and something behind your ribs cracks.

You reach across the table and place your hand over his. "Tommy I get it. You don't have to say anything else. My aunt ... She uh, she had a hard time too after my cousin was born."

"Yeah?"

You nod, taking your hand back when you feel eyes on you from other tables. Tommy's expression has changed, the tears blinked back as he straightens.

"Yeah well. Hope its okay if Joel keeps bein' your partner for a little bit longer."

"Sure," you nod. You have no desire to concern him further with it. "Yeah, that's fine, Tommy. No problem."

Tommy hears his name being called and you wave him off. You watch his long legs scissor across the canteen as you feel your stomach drop.

///

A week goes by so quickly. A week of reading, of brisk morning walks, of tea with some of the girls that rise early like you.

But before long its back to patrol day and you wake with that same sickly sensation in your stomach. Breakfast is swallowed down with force.

You trudge towards the main gates of Jackson City with a new jacket pulled tight around you. This one is heavier and welcome as the chill increases daily. Snow is on its way to Wyoming.

You wave at the men who patrol the main gate today, Peter and Hank. The three of you chat politely even though your stomach is churning.

You turn when you hear the sound of hooves. Joel is approaching with two horses in tow, much to your confusion.

"Horses?" You ask when he nears. "We didn't-"

"First patrol is always on foot," Joel explains gruffly handing you the reigns if the light brown horse. "Helps you understand the land better."

You look over the animal at your shoulder, eyes fixed on the deep brown of its iris. You muse that it looks as nervous as you feel.

"Names Chestnut," Hank tells you. "He's one of the sweet ones."

"Hi there beautiful boy," you murmur gently, your hand going to the soft of the animals nose. "We'll take care of each other out there today, huh?"

You smile when he snuffles your palm before he tries to lick your fingers.

You glance over when you feel Joel's dark eyes fixed on you and the horse. He looks away promptly and you watch him mount his own horse, a mighty looking black creature with a serious countenance.

"What's that one’s name?"

"Get on."

Great, he's irritated with you already. It's going to be a long day. You sigh before pulling yourself up onto the already saddled horse with ease. Chestnut gives a small whinny before settling.

Joel looks momentarily surprised, brows raising a fraction and you know it's because he assumed you'd be useless at this too. But you're an experienced horseback rider, have been since you were a kid.

It secretly pleases you to surprise Joel. To show him there’s a lot you're good at.

"Black ones name is Midnight," Hank tells you with a friendly wink as he comes to unlatch the gate. "Asshole riding him is called Joel."

You hold in a bubble of laughter as Joel sidles alongside you, handing you a gun that you sling over your back. You don't shrink under the weight of it this time, in fact you straighten.

Atop the mighty Chestnut you feel braver. Safer. If something comes for you, you'll see it. This high up you feel so much better. You follow Joel out the gates on his horse, clicking your tongue and tugging gently at the reins.

Chestnut gives you extra confidence today. You follow Joel to do the perimeter check first, eyes scanning around you. You hear Joel gently click his tongue and then you're both off towards the village.

You ride in silence, buoyed by the knowledge that Joel can't critique about how you ride. Instead, you take your time to observe your surroundings. You take in the crisp air and the bent trees you pass.

"Good boy," you murmur every now and then to Chestnut, giving him soft pats as you ride.

You take in Joel's broad shoulders moving ahead of you on Midnight, looking like a modern cowboy in his brown leather jacket. He doesn't spare any kind words for his horse. You wonder how Ellie can stand him.

When you arrive at Teton village an few hours later you're almost in a good mood. It's been nice riding today. The thought that this will be a weekly thing for you no longer intimidates you. Yeah Joel will be there, but if interactions are kept to a minimum then there's no reason that you can't get through this.

You dismount outside the large house, the outpost, like last time. Joel scans the house, dark hand over dark eyes to shield from the sun. He murmurs something to himself.

He moves to tie the horses up, showing you how to tie off their reigns to the tree outside. You watch even though you already know how, nodding and then follow him to the door of the large old building.

"Remember the code?"

You'd written it down the second you got home last week, forcing yourself to commit it to memory. You nod again, quickly turning the numbers to the pattern Joel showed you last time. You hide your relieved grin when it unlocks on the first turn.

You glance at Joel from under your lashes, half expecting praise or even a smile. Of course you receive neither. He simply tugs the door open and enters.

In your haste to follow you trip over a fallen board at the threshold, crashing into his solid back. Joel shrugs you off irritably and you stumble back.

"Sorry was-"

"Shut up," Joel hisses, raising a finger to his lips. His voice drops to a whisper. "I hear somethin'."

All your previous bravado vanishes, left back outside with the horses.

You swallow a whimper, sticking close to him as he pulls the gun from its holster. You do the same, knowing it's more for show then anything.

You follow directly behind Joel as he wanders through the rooms, occasionally stepping on the back of his shoes when he stops abruptly. When you do that he elbows you harshly in the ribs to get you behind him at a good distance. You wince, your fear keeping you close by. Knowing that he's worse than a clicker but he's your only hope.

Finally you reach what he's been searching for. A broken window in the library, glass shattered inside along with what looks like a tree branch. The recent windstorm must have caused the branch to smash through the window. It makes a hollow whistling sound, likely what tipped Joel off.

Relief floods you when Joel re-holsters his gun, his fears allayed for the time being. He strides past you to the old storage room.

You follow after him, nodding when he points at the log book and pencil.

"You remember what to do."

You scrawl your name into the log as Joel watches on. You two take a seat as Joel brings out the sandwiches and Thermos of coffee to share. As you did last time you eat in silence, your eyes everywhere but his direction.

It makes you think of lunch with Ellie and your interaction with Jennifer. You think about bringing both up with Joel but decide against it.

Instead you dart a look at him from under your hair, hoping he doesn't notice. You watch him sip his black coffee, the lid dwarfed by his large hand. You watch the flex of his jaw when he chews. You wonder what kind of work he did before the outbreak. Judging by his frame and calloused fingers you imagine a mechanic or electrician.

He gives you a curious look when he catches you looking at him and you quickly clear your throat.

"I like riding the horses here better than walking." When Joel doesn't reply you feel compelled to keep talking. "Chestnut is especially nice. Do we always ride the same horses or-"

"Do you ever stop talkin'?"

You want to point out that you've barely talked to him at all this entire trip but you have no desire to start a fight. Instead you clamp your lips together, cheeks burning and anger and embarrassment.

After lunch you both stand and as you wipe the crumbs of your sandwich off on your jeans, you watch as Joel scrolls his name into the log. He hands you the solitary pencil.

"Make a note in the log about the cracked window in the southeast corner. S'what we do. Then we report back so the next week they give us supplies to repair it or send others out to do it."

"Okay."

You bend over the log book, clutching the pencil tightly between your fingers. You try to write neatly, attempting to make your normally pinched handwriting legible.

You're not expecting Joel to be so close to you when you finish and back up. It takes you by surprise. He's come over to check that you filled in the log correctly and when you back into his solid form you let out a yelp before the pencil is dropped, disappearing between the cracks of the old floorboard.

"For fucks sake-"

Joel rolls his eyes as you drop to the ground. You know that something like this will make him hate you more. And for some unknown reason this creates a wash of anxiety to cascade over you.

"Shit shit shit."

You're desperate to retrieve the pencil; you even think you could grab it if the floorboards were a bit more spaced apart. You pull at them, chipping one of your nails in process. You hiss pulling back sharply and swearing under your breath.

After several minutes of trying to retrieve it you give up, your face red from excursion and humiliation. You’re swallowing angry tears. It's not the end of the world. There are other pencils that exist but your actions just erased all the goodwill you thought you were building.

But maybe there was none to be built upon because Joel is staring down at you darkly, his hands stemmed at his waist.

"You've been a fucking thorn in my side every fucking moment of today," Joel grimaces.

He's so unfair. He's overlooking every good thing you've done today. Every silent test you've passed. Anger flares within you, a small flame that quickly builds to a towering inferno. You bring yourself to a stand, eyes flashing.

"Maybe if you weren't such a miserable assh-"

The word isn't even halfway out of your mouth when his hand is at the collar of your jacket, just as it had been that first patrol. But now he's using it to push instead of pull. Shoving you into the wall beside the table with its chipped paint and exposed brick. It bites into your back despite your thick jacket. Your toes scrape the floor and your hands go to his fist trying to pull it from your collar, but his grip is vice-like.

He lowers his face close to yours, his hot peanut butter and coffee-laced breath huffing over your cheeks.

"You watch how you speak to me."

"Those my orders for today then?" You scoff sarcastically, feet trying to find purchase on the floorboards below.

He pushes you harder against the wall, your spine flush with its crumbling interior and you wince.

"Fucking smart mouth," Joel rasps. "Should teach you a lesson."

He'd said it to be intimidating. To scare you into submission so he could continue patrols without having to worry about you doing something stupid.

But then the words hung between you both and your reaction wasn't to cower. In fact, even in the dim light of the flashlight he could see the way your pupils overtook your eyes, like tiny blackened moons.

"Are you going to?"

"Going to what?"

"Teach me a lesson?"

Joel is very still. So still you wonder if he's still breathing. His dark eyes scan your face, trying to read your intentions.

"You want me to?"

Joel's hand hasn't released you, hasn't softened at all. But he's curious, that much is clear.

"You give the orders, Joel, not me," you whisper with more confidence than you actually feel. "Remember?"

Joel stares at you for what feels like hours. As if time has lost all meaning, lengthening or shortening at his whim.

You wait for him to yell, to bark out something sinister or cruel. You wait for him to turn away, ignoring you. You receive neither. You instead watch as Joel tilts his frame back from you, gazing down at you through heavy lids.

His hand lowers from your collar and you slump slightly forward from the wall. Your feet gain purchase and you straighten. He's testing you, you think. Seeing if now that he's released you from his grip if you'll run.

But you don't. You continue to stand there, making it perfectly clear that you have no desire to flee. And this registers with him. He sways slightly, sucking his teeth quietly as his eyes drift down your body.

"Take me out of my pants," he rasps, looking at your mouth with no intention of kissing it.

You take a moment to look for any guile in his expression. When you see none, you drop your eyes to his middle and fumble at his belt, your hands trembling. He watches your face as you pop open the button of his jeans and lower his zipper. You swallow as your trembling hand slides between the band of his boxers and his taut abdomen.

He's so warm.

You feel his belly jerk at the sensation of your lowering hand and you bite back a gasp when you feel him already rock hard beneath your palm. You wish it wasn't so dark in this room because you'd like to see the gold of the skin there. To see if it matches the color of his hands or face.

You tug him free of his boxers, letting his heavy cock and balls hang over the band. Just the thought of it makes your mouth water.

He watches you carefully from under his dark lashes.

"Make me come."

Simple instructions. You like that.

You lick your lips nervously, shocked when Joel grips your wrist tightly, drawing your hand to his face and tilting it. There's a moment of true confusion on your part before Joel spits into it your hand. You watch with wide eyes as Joel begins rubbing his saliva into your palm with his wide thumb.

You're disgusted.

You're aroused.

You use the spit in your palm along Joel's shaft, watching his eyes shutter momentarily. Both of his hands are now palm flat against the wall next to your head, boxing you in on either side.

His hips thrust into your slick palm and you give a soft shuddering exhale as you begin to work over him, taking control.

"More around the head," Joel tells you grunting. Just like on patrols he leads and you follow.

You do as he says, slipping your palm along the head to feel sticky precum already beading there.

You use it as an aid, a natural lubricant, twisting your hand slightly as you go. You watch his face, trying to see what he likes. Right now his face is relaxed with his eyes shut lightly. Your left hand goes to his side, holding his jacket pocket as your other hand slides along his twitching member

"Like this?"

He makes a little humming noise to indicate you're doing it correctly. You smile to yourself tilting forward slightly to catch the noise. He's coming closer, his cock sliding quickly between your fingers.

"Your hand's soft."

You think Joel must have said this by accident, because it’s murmured so softly and his eyes crack open as soon as the words hit the air. You realize that it's the first positive thing Joel's ever said to you since you met him.

You smile up at him, rewarded with a gentle smirk at the right corner of his mouth from him before he catches himself and it vanishes.

"Don't," he tells you with a frown.

"What?"

"Don't look at me."

You're taken aback when one wide hand comes to cover your eyes. Its sudden blackness startles you into dropping his cock.

“What’re you-“

"I told you to make me come," Joel growls from behind gritted teeth. "So fucking do it."

Joel's free hand grips yours, thrusting his hard cock back into your palm. You take it, your eyes still in darkness. Without sight you're stuck with only your remaining senses. He smells like wood and sweat and leather from his jacket.

You focus on Joel's breathing now, noting it increase as your hand continues working on him, your fingers moving deftly around his shaft. He breathes through his nose, occasionally swallowing.

"Quick learner," Joel observes with a murmur as you swivel your wrist.

You nod, your face rasping against his palm. Your eyes are shut tightly, he doesn't need to cover them but you think that this must make him feel better. Must make him feel more in control.

"Much better at this than shooting," Joel says condescendingly in the darkness. You think you can almost feel the words being huffed against your mouth. "Turns out your hands were just made for handling cocks, not guns."

You scowl.

"Or maybe it's because you're not getting mad a-"

The rest of your sentence is cut off as two of Joel's large fingers come to either side of your mouth, pinching it shut. Your hand falls from his cock and you imagine it hangs there between his legs heavy and twitching.

His other hand is still covering your eyes so the result is no vision and no breathing through your mouth. It's rather disorienting.

"None a' that," Joel rasps from above you. "No smart mouth unless you want it fucked dumb."

You're body jerks at this quiet proclamation.

I do.

No. I don't.

I do,

No, I can't. I don't.

Stripes of light peek through parted fingers as his hand drops from your slowly opening eyes.

"You do," Joel concludes your internal debate as his eyes swim over your face. His voice, always low and graveled sounds measured, unsure.

"You want me to fuck that smart mouth?"

You don't say anything. You can't. He releases your lips. His heavy hand reaches for yours, twisting it back around the shaft in the way he likes. He holds your hand there, fucking himself into it.

"You want me to stuff your mouth full 'a my cock?" Joel grinds out as he thrusts forward into your waiting hand. His wider one surrounds yours, fingers practically lacing.

You can't help but let out a whimper. Joel's hands go back to the wall above your shoulders and his hips cant forward jerkily.

Your hand begins moving faster and faster over the length of his throbbing cock, your own erratic panting matching that of Joel's. He's looking down into your face now, something in it unlocked.

"Fuckin' that pretty mouth," Joel grunts, his cock pistining in your grip as he stares at your parted lips. "Coming down your throat."

You whimper. Why is this so arousing to you? Why do the things that Joel is saying turn you on so much? Because you dislike him so much that this feels taboo? Because for once Joel isn't critical of something you're doing?

Before you can question it further you feel him swell and pulse in your grip. He spills himself over your knuckles in warm spurts as he lets out a shuddering groan, the warmth of it buffering over your forehead.

You're so still as you stand there watching Joel. You watch him breathing heavily through his nose, the grim set of his mouth as he stares at his softening cock in your hand.

Reality sets in. What you've done and who with.

Without thinking you're moving, twisting and scrambling to get away from him. Needing to leave this crumbling room and Joel's haunted gaze.

Your feet make thudding noises over the warped floorboards, matching in tempo to your rapid heartbeat.

You burst out the front door into the cool afternoon and feel it chill your fevered cheeks. You take several deep breaths, trying to stop the gallop of your heartbeat.

What did you just do?

And with Joel?

You drag your hand through the snow, wiping the proof of your altercation from your skin. You move to Chestnut, resting your forehead against his side. You let the steady breathing of the animal soothe your frazzled nerves.

Joel comes out moments later, completely composed and dressed. He gives you a sharp look.

"Time to head back."

Wanna be put on the tag list? Comment below.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #smut #joel miller smut #joel miller #dad joel miller #fanfiction #fanfic #mean!Joel #Mean!JoelMiller #jackson city #joel the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #slow burn #enemies to lovers #angst with a happy ending

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hitomisuzuya · 1 year

Note

HI SUZU ITS ME AGAIN I hope you had a gr8 day and dont forget to drink plenty of water 😆❤️❤️ Anyways! Following up my request of Tighnari in heat, what if the reader ends up getting pregnant? How would the reader tell Tighnari and how would Tighnari react? I bet he'd be a great partner and just so fucking protective of the reader when shes pregnant 😭😭😭 (SFW)

a/n: Coming right up for you, dear. This is so cute omg! I feel nice and calm today (because of you <3). I hope you are doing well.

You were delighted when you saw the positive mark on the pregnancy test. You felt even giddier knowing how happy it would make Tighnari. You'd taken the day off today because you'd felt sick when you woke up. Now you knew why.

Before you told Tighnari, you wanted to plan a special way to tell him. After giving it some thought, you knew exactly what you were going to do. You were just going to need some ribbon first.

You were waiting for Tighnari when he got back from his evening patrol. "'Nari, I think he is hurt," you were holding a fennec fox in your arms. You were holding him a way that completely hide the ribbon tied loosely around his neck with a note attached to it. You handed him the fox carefully to further lead him on. It was so hard for you not to smile.

"Huh?" Tighnari questioned when he saw the note. Bracing the fox against his arm, he unfolded it. It read as follows: Sorry, my love, he isn't really hurt. He just wanted to help me tell you that I'm pregnant.

"Really?!" Tighnari's eyes lit up, his tail flicking with excitement and joy.

You nodded, grinning. "Really really."

Setting the fox down, Tighnari crouched down to put a hand on your stomach. "Our pup is really growing inside of you," he marvelled, nuzzling your stomach.

During the first stages of your pregnancy, he gave you a thermos of tea to help with morning sickness while you were out on patrol. He accompanied you on every single one of them. He was twice as protective as he normally was.

Whenever you dropped something, he would pick it up for you. You didn't need to be straining yourself like that while you were pregnant. Tighnari could barely contain his joy. He told anyone and everyone that would listen that he was going to become a father.

If you needed to go into Sumeru City for anything, he kept his arm around you, making sure no one would even bump into you.

#genshin impact #genshin fluff #tighnari #tighnari x you #tighnari x y/n #tighnari x reader #fem!reader

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wreckmyimage · 1 year

Note

more like mmmm more ellie pls smEllie more pls mmm yummy

ELLIE WILLIAMS AS TAYLOR SWIFT SONGS: ellie x fem reader

WARNINGS: angst, grief, blood, mentions of sex? mentions of Y/N, fluff at the end : )

notes: for @zndayacc ( as usual ) i love ellie and taylor so why not put them together ! ❤️‍🩹

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So it goes…

“You know I’m not a bad girl

but I do bad things with you.”

Ellie did not like mornings. She hated them. But when she woke up next to you she likes them… kind off… not really but at least you were there.

You shake her to try and wake her. “Ellie, get up, we have patrol.”

She mumbles into her pillow, “Five more minutes.”

“Nope. You are not making us late.”

“Please, Y/N, please.” She begs as she looks to you from her position on the bed.

“Nope. You’re not sleeping for five more minutes.”

“Who said anything about sleeping?” Ellie looks at you with a hint of mischief.

“What?—” Before you could say anything your lips are crashing together as she pulls you down back into bed. You couldn’t exactly say no to that, right?

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The very first night

“Didn’t read the note on the polaroid picture

they don’t know how much I miss you.”

Ellie was lost. Her hands were trembling. Her bones felt numb and she could not move. How could she fail you? She promised she’s keep you safe and protect you. How was she meant to live with the consequences that she could not save you. She looks down at the polaroid she had taken of you when you were sleeping, you had told her to get rid off it, but Ellie said she wanted it, so she can see your face whenever she wanted. You were hesitant but gave in, but that was because you loved her.

You were both out on patrol, minutes before you were both cracking jokes before some figure comes out of the trees and shoots you right in the neck. It was so sudden for Ellie, she caught your body before you fell to the snowy ground.

Ellies raspy voice breaks through the thick air as all you can hear is you choking on your own blood, unable to breathe. “Y/N, please I need you to stay awake.” She rushes out as she puts her hand to your throat to somehow stop the bleeding. “Please stay with me.” She cries.

You can feel your eyes shutting, the tiredness taking over you, feeling like someone was taking over your body.

“No!” Ellie shouts, as she sees you shut your eyes. She puts her head on your chest to try find a heartbeat, but there was none. “No!” She cries as her head was buried into your clothes. “Y/N, please get up I can’t loose you.” No response.

“You fucker!” Ellie shouts to the unknown man who had took your life. She had no idea where he had went but he was definitely watching from some hiding spot. “I’m going to fucking get you!” She then notices hair peaking from behind a rock. Running over as she aims her pistol at him. He was trembling.

“No! Please… don’t kill me.” He pleads as he raises his hands.

“Why shouldn’t I?! You killed the person I cared about the most.” She was shouting now, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care if all the infected in the world heard her. He deserved to die. He took you from her. She would not let that slide.

Before the man can get another word in, she shoots him. Right in the centre of his forehead. She flinches at the impact, but that was just because she was delicate in that moment. If it were any other moment she wouldn’t of flinched.

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Cardigan

“You drew stars around my scars

and now I’m bleeding.”

You and Ellie were both laying in the bed you both shared. Ellie was wearing her usual white tank top while you wore a normal t-shirt. Her ‘chemical burn’ was what she called it was on show. But you knew it was a bit, that she was immune. She had told you, opened up to you months prior. Because she trusts you, she trusts you with that information, she knew you wouldn’t go about Jackson telling everyone. She knew you.

So here you both were, both staring off at the ceiling in comfortable silence. You eyes break from you and the ceilings staring contest as you look down as you admire Ellie’s arm and the tattoo that was on it. Your fingers draw circles in it as a comforting matter. You knew Ellie liked it when your fingers danced against her arm as you knew how much pain the memory of her getting bitten brought her.

“What’re you doing?” Ellie chuckles as you continue making swirls and stars.

“Drawing on your arm,” You mumble, “To comfort you.”

“It tickles.”

You move your hands from her arm, “Sorry—”

“No, I like it, it’s fine.” She assures you as she grabs your hands and places them back on her wrist.

#ellie williams #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfic #tlou #tlou2 #tlou x reader #naughtydog #dina nolastname #the last of us part 2

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angsty-twihardxx · 1 year

Text

SOFT DESCENT | T. MILLER

Description: When patrol with your boyfriend gets turned upside down, you get taken away from him. Will he find you in time? Or will you fall into a pit trying to save yourself?

Warnings: 18+ (all minors shall be banished) ANGST, hurt/comfort, fluff at the end, mentions of violence, death umm yeah i think that’s it.

A/N: I needed to write some angst to cleanse my brain from all the smut teehee, honestly idk what this is, I literally was listening to tlou part 2 soundtrack and this song came on and my brain came up with this. If you want to listen to it while your reading I guess you can for some ambience. I also have masterlist for this sexan (sexy Texan) *knee slap

But yeah if you like this yknow feel free to like and reblog. If you have any requests puh-lease send em my way. X

There was one thing to learn about the world you lived in, Cordyceps were scary, bloodthirsty monsters, but it was humans that were the real monsters. Whenever there was a time you were out in the world, away from the confines of a QZ or a commune like Jackson you were at risk.

The fungi was predictable, one part of an entire hive mind to reach a goal. Unlike people, Cordyceps couldn’t lie.

. . .

For the couple of years you had lived in Jackson, it was very rare that you joined Tommy on patrol, he remained annoyingly adamant on keeping you safe. Which you hated, did he not think you could handle it? That if the time came to it you couldn’t defend yourself?

It was a constant battle between the two of you despite the times you showed him that you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, he still wouldn’t budge. He was as stubborn as a mule at the worst of times.

Winter this year though had been extremely hard on the town, the icy winds were killing the crops, meaning that people weren’t getting the nutrients they need to fight the sicknesses that came with the cold. Patrol was low on me, most of them being bedridden with frostbite and the flu. There weren’t many people that were willing to leave the safety of the walls to help, except you.

Tommy had just made it into the stables from patrol when Maria brought up the idea of you helping, which he instantly turned down, that it wasn’t necessary; he would be fine on his own. But Maria wasn’t having it, she knew that you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, and she knew that he did too. So by the end of their conversation she told him that you would join him for patrol the next day, and he wasn’t stupid enough to argue with her.

Which is why he was so grumpy the next morning, remaining mostly silent as the two of you got ready. The sun had barely touched the sky when you were jostled awake by the movement beside you in the bed. A muttered curse fell from his lips when he heard you move, no doub t trying to leave without you. “S’alright darlin’ just go back to sleep.” His voice was a hushed whisper as he tried to not wake you from your dreamy state.

But you knew him better than to think he was simply being courteous, you lazily swung the blankets over your legs. “Nice try cowboy.”

A permanent frown spread across Tommy’s forehead the entire morning, making it known that he wasn’t happy with this. But you paid no mind, actually just excited to go out and see the world again. Being out in the unmanned woods was your favourite, it reminded you of when you would go walking out in the moubntains near where you grew up. It almost felt like ‘then’ as well, with little to no infected you could just simply breathe.

Tommy didn’t realise how long it had been since you actually were on the other side of the walls, till he watched how excited you were. It was almost like everything was new to you again. “I forgot how pretty it was out here.” You sighed happily as you admire the large frozen lake at the bottom of the mountain.

Maybe he was a little overprotective of you, okay he definitely was. Tommy could admit that he was so worried about you getting hurt that he didn’t even think about what you wanted. Guilt crept up on him as he remembered how normal this used to be, when the two of you travelled to find Jackson in hopes for a better life. But now that he had it, he wanted to protect it as much as he could.

“Y’should see it in the springtime, all the animals runnin’ around. Reckon you’d enjoy it.” He looked over at you sweetly, suddenly forgetting how only a few hours ago he disliked the idea of you being out here with him.

“I would ask if that it an invitation but I don’t want to push my luck.” You sent a teasing smirk his way, knowing he was getting soft in his old age.

Snow was falling heavier once you and Tommy reached the patrol hut, which was already warm thanks to the two men before you. The bright red blames didn’t work fast enough to warm your hands, despite how many times you rubbed them together.

“Y’know that only works when you take your gloves off right?” He smirked, his eyes looking down at you for a brief moment before giving them a roll in amusement. If you were any closer you would’ve been sitting on top of the ember. “Stupid gloves don’t even work anyway.” You muttered slipping off the leather gloves and fanning your warm breath on your blue hands.

You content sigh filled the small room as the feeling in your fingers started to come back. Tommy always teased that you reminded him of a cat his mother had when he was younger, if there was a pocket of sun coming through the front window you would be there already bathing in its warmth. “What happened to the gloves I gave you for your birthday?” Tommy turned to face you as you sat beside him, kicking your legs up on the wood bench.

“That’s a good question for Ellie.” You cocked an eye his way, an annoyed groan falling from your mouth. You loved that girl like she was family, and you seemed to grow on her instantly. Which had many perks like having someone to tag team when it came to teasing the Miller brothers, someone to keep you company on those late nights when you were both home alone. But you drew the line when it came to your gloves.

The two of you were content sitting for a moment to find your bearings. As the cracking flames and howling snow filled winds muted the sound of approaching footsteps, that were silently creeping their way towards the hut where the two of you found yourselves in. Only alerting you of their presence as they kicked the door in, their guns already aimed at your heads before you could react. Knocking you both on the hard cement floor as you tried to speak, the air was snatched from your lungs as your chest collided on the ground.

You squirmed under the weight of the masked man that tied your arms behind you back, no matter how hard you struggled his grip was unrelenting. He let out a snicker as he pulled tighter on the ropes, the rough material pinching your skin.

“Asshole.”

Tommy on the other hand was quiet and calculated, watching their every move. Hunters never dared to get this close to Jackson, especially not in the winter. What were they up to?

He turned his attention back to you when he stopped hearing your voice, your eyes already on him, filled with worry. “We’re gonna be okay, alright?” He tried giving you a reassuring smile, wishing that he could hold you right now.

Boots echoed on the ground as the tension clearly rose with this man’s presence, he definitely had to be in charge. He was much bigger than the rest, almost look special ops with his helmet and thick bullet proof vest. The name Marshall was indented on the old badge, you wondered if that was always his vest, if the name belonged to him or not.

His eyes fell onto you for just a second too long, the bile in your stomach churned in disgust as he sent a smile your way.

“They had nothin’ useful, reckon these guys are from that town down south? They have guns and horses, wonder what else they got.”

“Potentially, I think they’d give us what we need. If they were persuaded enough.”

“N-no don’t fucken touch me!” You spat as two men approached you, fighting against the hands that grabbed your shoulders. Your legs kicked wildly in the air as you tried to writhe out of the strings arms that carried you away from Tommy.

“Please, I’ll get whatever you need, but don’t do this.” Tommy pleaded, his eyes watering in fear, just the thought of you getting taken away from him scared him to death. But he was ignored, your screams faded as they dragged you outside and out of his line of vision.

“Deal with him, you know what to do.”

. . .

Tommy woke up alone, something that gave him no ease. His head throbbed as he tried to stand, already shouting your name. Ignoring how the room spun around him as he made it outside, confirming that everything that happened before he was knocked out wasn’t some sick nightmare. It was real, you were gone.

He hoped that he hadn’t been unconscious for long, the sun was thankfully still in the sky, the maroon sunset was soon approaching. You were still closer, they couldn’t have taken you far.

Fucken hunters.

Tommy’s heart thumped in his chest as he called out for you for what felt like the hundredth time, fear grew in his chest the longer he didn’t see you. With no response again he ran towards the forests tree line, he had to find you. With no horse or weapons or even a plan he left in search of you.

Fuck how did he mess everything up so badly? This was what he was worried about happening to you, he should’ve left in the morning on his own, before either you or Maria could yell at him about it. He didn’t care if you hated him after this but he was never going to put you in harms way ever again. And that was a promise.

Your scream danced against the trees as it travelled to find Tommy, when he heard it for the first time his heart stopped in his chest. He ran towards the direction of your voice in a blinded fury, absolutely no idea what it was he was running into with nothing to protect himself. For all he knew there could be a whole camp full of people and he wouldn’t care, only seeing red.

His hurried footsteps slowed when he caught sight of an old farmhouse in the distance. Your horses were tied up to the fence post at the front, the people that took you were here. The smoke pouring from the chimney told him the building was occupied.

The wooden door bounced off the wall after being slammed open in Tommy’s rage. For a brief moment he paused, expecting to be ambushed upon his arrival. Only to be met with bodies scattered around the room, it was a brutal sight. Blood dried as it rolled down the walls, pooling on the hardwood floor under his boots. It only made the fear inside home grow, whether or not he would find you along with the others.

He was ripped from his worries when the sound of a struggle echoed down the stairs, after taking a discarded pistol he ascended frantically. Screaming your name as he searched each room for you, his hand grasping onto the pistol till his knuckles whitened. All of the worst possible outcomes flashed into his head but he was determined to find you even if it was the last thing he did.

Out of all the situations he thought of, he didn’t know if this was worse. Your agonising screams that fell out your mouth with every blow. The corroded pipe that you held onto or dear life as it collided with one of the hunters skulls.

Tommy froze as you swung your arm down once more, the warm blood tricked down your hand as it shook. He didn’t recognise the wild look in your eyes, almost as if it was someone else in control of your body. Guilt crept up inside him, if only he was here earlier. Then maybe the glimmer of hope in your eyes wouldn’t be missing.

That was something Tommy admired about you, after losing so much you never lost your sense of humanity, well until now that is.

The bang from from you dropping the pipe in your hand cut through the silence like a scolding blade. He softly called your name, although he doubted you even heard him.

The room was dead silent, Tommy’s steps were slow and precise as he approached you. Like a wild and scared animals that’s cornered, he was unsure of how you would react.

Your head spun around abruptly to face him, bottom lip quivering as tears fell down your cheek. His mouth moved as he spoke to you but all you could hear was a high-pitched ringing, whether it was from the gun going off near your head earlier or the adrenaline rushing through you.

“It’s okay baby, you’re okay. I’m here.” Tommy whispered into your hair as he knelt down to envelope you, he told himself that he was never letting you go again.

“I-they were going to-“ You tried to swallow the ever growing lump in your throat in your throat as you thought about the past few hours in disgust. Letting your head fall onto his shoulders you could really comprehend that he was here, Tommy found you.

“Your safe baby, I promise.” Tommy brought his hand to hold your head, holding back his own tears as you cried, He tried to hide how petrified he was, you were still shaking in fear even in the safety of his arms. Your blood curdling scream was still sending chills down his spine.

He should’ve been the one to kill all these assholes, it meant holding up the structural belief you had that there were still good people in the world, he would kill anybody.

“C’mon sweetheart, let’s get you home yeah?” He smiled at you sadly, it broke his heart seeing you so broken and defeated, he had never seen you like this before. You nodded softly in response, you couldn’t stay here a second longer. Your throat was on fire, you doubted any noise would come out anyway.

. . .

Your trembling arms were wrapped tightly around Tommy’s torso the entire ride home. With your head resting on his shoulder blade you watched the sun fall behind the mountains, you felt so numb as the adrenaline began to wear off. After everything, you felt so hopeless that you couldn’t believe you thought you were capable of all this.

“M’gonna stay home for a few days, hows that sound baby?” Tommy continued to talk to you despite your lack of response, he wasn’t going to push you but he also wasn’t going to give up.

The welcoming lights of Jackson came into view, filling you with very little relief. You dreaded the confused looks and questions you would receive from the townsfolk. Just the thought of it made the panic creep back up your chest, you couldn’t be around these people right now, let alone anyone for that matter. You cringe at how pathetic you sounded, reminding you how pitiful Tommy looked when he found you.

So when the horse stopped in the stables you were off in seconds, walking in the direction of you and Tommy’s shared home. The ringing in your ear masked the calls of your name from Tommy. He let out a huff of air from his nose in annoyance before following you down the street. A deep crease remerging on his head as you picked up your pace.

Tommy called out for again as he walked into an empty living room, only to be met with the sound of your bedroom door being slammed shut.

What felt like a smack to the face was going to open the door only to find that it was locked. Tommy Leto it an exhausted sigh as his head dipped against the wood, your muffled tears leaked through the cracks. You never pushed him away like this before and it was honestly breaking him, he wanted nothing more than to comfort you. He didn’t care if he had to hold you in his arms till they ached, he would do it for you. Tommy called out your name again, more defeated than the last dozen times he had today. “Baby please let me in, I-I don’t know how else to help you.” His voice shook as he felt tears beginning to brim.

God he didn’t even want to think how much pain you were in, he doesn’t even know what happened. He wasn’t really sure he wanted to either. Tommy was met with no response again, he was going to wait right here, for as long you needed him too.

. . .

It was early in the morning when he heard a creak of the door opening behind him, startling him out of his light sleep. The sun was beginning to pour into the hallway through the now open door to your bedroom, peeking inside he saw the small silhouette that was you. Sitting on the edge of the bed in a daze, your eyes stared out the window, soaking the sun as if it would magically heal you.

Tommy doubted that you had slept much either, your red eyes indicated you most likely spent it crying. He wished you let him hold you, that you knew that you didn’t have to do this alone. It reminded him from when he enlisted in the army, the first time he took a life. It took everything in him to not go back home, but the fear that you would turn him away made him worried he’d never get to see you again. For so long he felt like a monster that he didn’t deserve happiness. Yet you continued to love him, even after everything that he did after that.

Kneeling in front of you he placed a firm hand on your knee, letting the calloused skin alert you that he was here. “Talk to me baby, please.” Tommy breathed out, engulfing your hands in he looked up at you softly. The dark bangs under his eyes told you that this had been just as hard for him as it had for you. You had probably put him through hell and he was still just as patient.

God you loved him so much.

“I was just— I thought I was going to die.” Your voice trembled as the tears continued to fall down your cheeks, you were surprised there were still some left. Remembering how scared you were after taking down the first hunter, the bruises that he left on your forearm where he tried to pry your arms from around his neck were a dark shade of purple.

“You were right though, I should’ve listened to you and just stayed here.” Wiping your tears on Tommy’s shirt sleeve that you wore, you thought it would been easier. Taking out all the men that tried to kill you only seemed to make you feel worse. You know you shouldn’t have, but you wondered if they had any family waiting for them back wherever home was.

You were so fucken stupid.

“N-no, ain’t none of this is your fault y’hear me? It was either you or them, I-I know it’s hard but you made the right choice.”

“How can that be the right choice Tommy? They’re all dead because of me, me!” You pointed an accusing finger at your chest, your sadness now turning into anger with yourself. He wondered how long you were thinking this, that you were a bad person because in his eyes you were perfect. It was those assholes that put you in danger that were the monsters.

“Yeah and they would’ve done the same to you, but that’s the world we live in. You can’t let it take over.”

“I don’t know if I can stop it.” Your head shook quickly, your voice trembling in between tears. “You can baby, I know it’s hard but—“

“No!” You almost sound pained, ripping away from Tommy’s hands you placed them on your face, wiping away more tears. “Every time I close my eyes I just see him, everything that I did Tommy-“

“It’s not fair I know, but your gonna get through this. I promise.” Now it was his turn to interrupt you, he didn’t need to hear it all this second, right now he just needed to let you cry.

Your shoulders shook as you fell into the arms of your boyfriend safe embrace, who whispered sweet nothings into your hair. You knew you were always safe when you were with him, there was never a doubt of that in your mind.

#tommy miller #tommy miller tlou #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #Tommy miller fan fiction angst #tommy miller fanfiction #tommy miller x fanfic #tommy miller x female reader #tommy miller fanfic #tommy miller fic #gabriel luna x reader #gabriel luna #Gabriel Luna fanfic

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aheckinmess · 1 month

Text

Apricity || Toshinori x OC

(One-Shot series 2/? - regularly updated every Saturday.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Toshinori Yagi, All Might, Toshinori x OC, All Might x OC, Smol Might, All Might is a Ray of Sunshine, I Just Want Smol Might to Eat, Symbol of Peace to the Rescue, Damsel in Distress, Oh Wait She Saved Herself, Well Kinda, Endeavor is An Electric Blanket

Word Count: 2,759 words

Summary: When someone catches wind that Ichijiku is All Might’s love interest, she’s taken hostage and on a time table, buried underground. While she struggles to remain calm and try to escape, All Might must not only fight the villain, but also pull a confession of her location from him; if the villain refuses, will the Symbol of Peace fail to save the one person who’s life matters most to him?

Chapter 2: The Underworld

Ichijiku (Tigress)

Knowing Toshinori and All Might are one and the same shakes my world, but ultimately isn’t too overwhelming once I get used to it. In fact, it makes some things a little easier whenever he has to leave abruptly or how he only has to give me a certain look and I know plans have to change. However, it’s not until a tanned hand slaps around my mouth and I’m pulled against a taut chest that I realize exactly why Toshinori kept it a secret for so long.

I try screaming through my nostrils and my muscles push against the person behind me in a flight response, trying to escape. A deep voice growls in my ear.

“You’re All Might’s girl, aren’t you?”

I bite his hand in response.

“Easy now,” He grunts, fingernails digging into my cheeks and making me grit my teeth. “If you want an easier death, you’d better comply.”

You’re a dumbass if you think I’m going quietly. I think, but I nod as I wrack my mind for strategies to escape this situation. Forcing deep breaths into my lungs, I make myself remain calm. When his grip loosens, I only get a glimpse of two golden eyes before the world spins into darkness.

. . . . .

All Might’s smile lights up the streets as he scans the city for trouble. He’s starting to learn that with his injury, he doesn’t have as much time patrolling as he used to, but he’s too stubborn to take it lying down. He alternates between walking and encouraging citizens with floating across the skies to remain vigilant for danger.

A bank alarm shrieks a block from his location and he speeds off in a flash of blue. It appears to be a typical robbery, something easy for the robust hero to put a stop to. He’s got four men and their bags of money outside the bank when one of them speaks, fighting his restraints.

“You…ergh! You have no idea what’s in store for you, All Might!”

“Hahaha! Perhaps not, villain, but I know that justice is in store for you!” His iconic smile stays cemented in place as red and blue lights dance in his vision.

“I wonder what your precious girlfriend has in store for her?” The man snarls, lifting his head with a vicious grin.

“Girlfriend? Ha! What gave you such an idea?”

“You can’t hide that shit from me. My boss has already looked into it. You can act like you don’t know who I’m talking about all you want to, but it’ll only make her die faster.”

A menacing blue glow emanates from All Might’s eyes as he tilts his head down towards the villain, face now shrouded in shadow. He grips the front of the man’s shirt and pulls him up to his face.

“What are you playing at, fiend? Who do you work for and where is she?” He growls, making all four men cower under his gaze. Even the man he’s talking to loses his smirk and trembles in his grasp.

“G-Got your attention now, d-do I?” He scoffs, trying to brush off his intimidation.

“Where is she?” All Might repeats.

“Why should I tell you?”

All Might pulls the man away from the wall and then slams his back into the brick building. He doesn’t utter a word, only glares at him and waits for an answer.

“I’m not obligated to tell you anything, Big Man. Catfish has the location hidden. Even if you could fly up and find her, she’d be dead by the time you got there.”

All Might’s heart stops momentarily in his chest as menace drips from his aura.

“Where is your boss, then?”

“He’s waiting for you in the Roppongi district.”

Close to my agency. All Might leaps from the scene as the police officers arrive, promising explanations and leaving bank tellers to give the rest of the account. When he coughs up a handful of blood, he knows he’s in trouble. I’m going to need help on this. Ichijiku needs me.

As he floats across the city towards his agency, he’s on his phone.

“Endeavor Agency, this is Endeavor speaking.” The familiar voice of his rival huffs.

“Endeavor! This is All Might. I need your help in the Roppongi district immediately. This is an emergency!” He keeps his smile in his voice, but the panic can’t be helped. Not when his reason for living could die at any minute.

“All Might!” He wonders just how hard Endeavor is clenching his jaw to keep from saying some quippy remark. “I’ll be there soon. Is there anything I should know before I reach your location?”

“It’s Catfish.”

. . . . .

When I open my eyes, I’m trapped. Darkness surrounds me and breathing is difficult. As I start moving to feel around for my surroundings, my shoulders and legs bump against hard wood. Panic settles inside me as I reach above me to feel the same thing.

I’ve been buried alive! That bastard buried me down here. How am I going to get out?! Am I going to die down here? The more frantic my thoughts, the more frantic my breathing. As soon as I realize this, I close my eyes - not that it makes a big difference - and inhale deeply, holding for a moment, and then exhale. I can get out of here. I just can’t panic. Toshinori will find me, but I have to find a way out of this coffin first. The box is made of wood, so it’s not metal or anything reinforced that we can’t break.

I remember reading an article somewhere about tying my shirt around my head to keep dirt particles out of my face. Though it’s a tight space, with steady breaths and a stubborn disposition, I wriggle out of my shirt and tie it around my head. I brace my back against the box and kick the top above me.

There’s no telling how long I work at it. My bones shiver with despair and I worry this will all be for nothing as it becomes harder and harder to breathe. But then a loud crack encourages me to redouble my efforts. When I shove harder with all the strength in my legs and dirt starts pouring in, I have to remind myself to keep my breath steady.

I shove all the falling dirt down to the empty space at my feet, slowly making my way to a seated position as loose earth continues to rain upon me. When I can finally stand, I let the remaining dirt compile under my feet, and shove the rest out of the coffin. When I finally breach through the surface, I can see the colorful world filtered in the blue fabric of my shirt.

I untie my shirt and pull it down to more clearly see my surroundings; tears trickle down my cheeks as I locate a ledge I can reach. Clawing the edge of it, I hoist myself up and haul myself out of the hole.

The metal ends of five guns swivel in my direction and take away all the breath I’ve just earned.

. . . . .

“I thought you’d put this guy away months ago!” Endeavor roars, focusing on minimizing collateral damage while All Might fights a dark-haired man.

It’s been a minute since the fight started and Endeavor can see Catfish is already winded. The only thing in his favor is his quirk. With the ability to manipulate tectonic plates, minor earthquakes cause the number two hero to help civilians and avoid as much damage as possible while All Might fights.

Regardless of the wild goose chase, All Might has Catfish restrained in minutes.

“Where did you put her?” He grounds out, fighting against every murderous urge in his body.

“What’s it matter to you?” Catfish grins broadly even as he trembles under the large man’s gaze. “She’s dead by now anyway. You can only last two hours tops when you’re buried alive.”

Buried alive?! No. No, no, no! All Might’s face gives him away. Agony flashes across his features, and Endeavor speaks up to cover for him.

“If she’s dead now, then why keep her location a secret? You seem proud of your work, then show it to us.” He says.

“You’d be surprised how many isolated parks there are in Tokyo to hide dead bodies in. All it took was a keen observer to choose the right one.” Catfish taunts.

All Might slams a fist into his face, knocking out the villain as he restrains him.

“What did you do that for?!” Endeavor barks.

“I know the park. I know exactly where she’s at. Hurry!” All Might takes off, speeding off as Endeavor stubbornly attempts to keep up with him.

“How do you know?”

“Odaiba Seaside Park. It’s the only place Ichijiku and I could have been seen together recently.” He grunts at himself, doubling his pace as the world flashes by in a blur of color. “I’m so stupid! She’s going to die because of me!”

“Not with both of us on the scent.”

. . . . .

“Catfish! What are we supposed to do if the girl makes it out before All Might gets here?!” One of the gunmen speaks into an earpiece.

When another pair of arms grip mine, instinct takes over. I did not work this hard to be trapped again! I yawn, exaggerating the sound to make it louder and more potent, even as the cost of my action wreaks havoc on my throat.

Their bodies drop around me, fast asleep in a circle. As much as I want to take the time and bask in my freedom, I don’t have the luxury. I take only one minute to realize I know this park, before the sound of dogs barking in the distance sends me running.

“The dogs will find her!” I hear a voice call. “The rest of you search the park!”

Where do I go? I don’t have my phone so I can’t let Toshi know I’m safe. But I need to find somewhere to hide until he can get here. Up a tree. The idea seems the most likely to keep me hidden so long as I put some distance between the dogs and my captors. I drive my toes into the dirt, pushing my asthmatic lungs to keep going so I can make headway.

When I see a small pond, I rush over and slide into the murky water despite the frigid temperature. It seems a small price to pay for another chance at life. I hold my breath and duck under the surface before coming back up and hearing the pack of dogs closing in.

I swim downstream a little bit before hopping out and sprinting again. My poor lungs burn for oxygen, but I make a mental promise to them that they can breathe all they want to when we’re safe. A large ginkgo tree comes into sight and gives me the remaining motivation to push my legs harder across the grass.

Since I’ve been scaling trees since I was small, the hardest part of climbing is just getting to the lowest branch. I leap and hug the tree with my arms and legs, channeling Toshinori and forcing myself to use every muscle to its full potential. Once I’m secured on the lowest branch, it’s smooth sailing. I pant and wheeze as I ascend higher and higher, until the limbs feel too flimsy to hold me anymore.

I hug the limb I’m laying on, keeping my eyes trained across the expanse of the park. I shudder when the dogs come into view.

. . . . .

All Might catches sight of the disturbed earth quickly, hope alighting in his eyes when he sees five unconscious bodies surrounding the open circle.

“This is a sign she used her quirk! She must have escaped–” All Might barely gets the words out when he hears dogs barking across the park.

“Hurry! They must be chasing after her!” Endeavor warns.

The Symbol of Peace reaches the men and their dogs in seconds, shocking them when he moves faster than they can think. All Might uses the leashes on the dogs to simultaneously restrain their handlers and keep the pups from going anywhere.

“ICHAN!” He calls across the park, scouring the trees, the pond, the vast expanse of grass before them. “I’m here! Where are you?!”

Nothing. He uses his strength and jumps through the air, turning this way and that to get a good look among the horizon while Endeavor searches along the ground with a calmer head to help with focus.

When Endeavor finds footprints near a pond, he doesn’t voice his discovery at first. He follows the stream downwards, thinking she must have tried to cover her scent and gain distance. He grins when he’s proven correct as another pair of footprints shows up further down the stream.

The prints lead him to a group of trees, where he looks around for hiding places on the ground while All Might scours the sky. He’s bending at the bough of a gingko tree when a drop of water makes the flames on his hair sizzle. Rain? He looks up.

And there she is.

. . . . .

My eyes close as I listen for dogs and villains alike. Fire swims through my aching muscles while the freezing weather numbs my skin. Dogs keep barking for what feels like hours before I hear a new sound.

“ICHAN!”

All Might’s voice echoes in the distance, there’s no mistaking it. I barely crack my eyelids as I try and search for him. A flash of orange follows the pondstream below, getting closer to me. A flash of red floats upwind above the trees, moving a little slower as it tries to find me.

“All Might…” I whimper, throat crusty and torn. I turn back to the orange growing brighter and looking more like flames the closer it gets. I suddenly understand. “Endeavor…”

When the flame hero reaches my tree, I try to move. My limbs, numb and cold, refuse even to twitch. Water drips from my shirt until I see him look up at me. Please… I want to say. I’m right here. Help. His eyes meet mine and I know I’ll be safe.

Thump. I blink and All Might hangs onto the base of my tree, looking me over.

“Ichan!” His eyes glisten as he takes my limp body in his arms and hops from the tree to the ground. “I thought you were dead.” He whispers, squeezing me close.

“I…am…here…” I squeak out, my lips twitching when I see him so distraught. I’ll be your smile when you don’t have the strength to find it.

A strangled laugh escapes him before he repositions me.

“Endeavor, she’s freezing. I’m trusting you to keep her warm while I lead the police here.” He offers me out to Endeavor, before kissing my forehead. “I’ll be right back, I swear. Hold out until then.”

Warmth floods every nerve ending and thaws me as Endeavor’s body and quirk heat sinks into my skin. I sigh and shudder, slowly starting to bend my fingers the more I feel able.

“Good. Try flexing your toes, too.” He encourages.

“You’re like…giant…” I grunt, eyes rolling around as the world tilts. “Giant campfire…”

“Hey, stay awake. We want to make sure you can give a testimony to the police, okay?” Endeavor explains.

“But I’m so tired…” I whine, head lilting back. He moves his arm and it’s tilted back up.

“I know, but you’ve got to stay awake. If you start falling asleep because I’m too warm, I’ll be forced to let you get cold again.”

“You’re much ruder than I’d expect an electric blanket to be.” I huff.

“I’ve been told something like that a time or two.”

“It’s okay…dun conform…” I yawn and pat his arm. “To stereotypes.”

When All Might finally returns, it’s with a posse of medical personnel and police officers. A bright light shines in my eye and I’m asked a multitude of questions, all of which I’m able to answer.

The questioning ends and they set me on a stretcher and tuck me into the back of an ambulance. All Might assures me around a cough that he’ll meet me at the hospital, which I only allow because of the blood I see on his hand. But before he can leave, I call out for him one last time.

“All Might?”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t charge me an ice cream fee. I swear it wasn’t my fault.”

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skylarmoon71 · 10 months

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Rapheal (TMNT 2014/2016) - Chapter 4

A part of you dreaded this day.

“I know Leo is going to be exhausted after the shift, so I figured I’d lighten the load.”

April is rambling about something or the other. You don’t truly register it.

“I can tell that you have other things on your mind.” April chuckles. You wonder how she even knows, but the coffee now spilling on the counter is enough evidence. You curse, moving the cup over the sink as you hastily clean up the mess on your counter.

April watches with a little grin.

“Does this have anything to do with a certain ninja?”

You scoff, trying to play it off, but she sees right through you. You have no choice but to confess.

“I-I want to celebrate with him, but Raph doesn’t seem like the type.”

April looks very excited.

“Are you kidding me, he’s dying to spend Valentine’s with you.”

“Really!”

“Definitely. I have a very valuable source that told me he’s even gonna get something mushy.”

You squint.

“Valuable source eh?”

“Yep, can’t say who. Just make sure you up the ante. Make it as romantic as possible. Trust me, Raph’s a big old teddy bear.”

You can’t help but feel hopeful.

“Okay, I’ll do my best.”

What’s the worst that could happen?

~Later That Day~

“Crap.”

Raph had dealt with a lot, but this just wasn’t his day. After his patrol, some thugs thought it would be a good idea to mug an old lady. While he’d managed to subdue them, his gift had taken a hit. The bear he bought had its arm practically ripped out. The box of chocolates carried a very prominent dent. He placed the battered items on the roof with a frown.

He felt like shit showing up without a gift that he’d already had his mind set on giving you. But it felt almost disrespectful to give those poorly presented items. He just turned his back, heading for the fire escape. As he slid down the metal, he could hear your humming from the other side of the window. With a knock, he waited for the window to open.

“Raph.”

Your voice was steady, and you looked so excited. It was like a gut punch. He climbed through, trying his best not to look at you. When he straightened, he could see you looking past him. You seemed a bit distracted. When you finally looked at him, you gave a nervous smile. You were fidgeting, and when he took in the way the room was set up, it made sense.

The lights were dim, a few candles around the room. Your television was set up and he caught the scent of pizza, along with some drinks on the table. There were a few fancy glasses he’d often hear April threaten them about whenever they visited her apartment. From her tone he could only assume they were expensive. Used for special occasions.

The longer he stood there the clearer it seemed to become that this was meant to be a romantic valentine’s day date night.

And he’d show up empty handed.

You were shifting on your feet.

“I…”

You weren’t sure what to say. Raph has a frown on his face. He looked upset, and it made you second guess everything you’d done. When April insisted that Raph was interested in celebrating Valentine’s Day, you were ecstatic.

A bit in disbelief, but happy nonetheless. Since you’d made the declaration not much had changed. He was still the same hot-tempered male you’d met. But he was possibly just a bit sweet around you. Raph was not someone who showed affection easily, and you understood that. That’s why it felt a bit awkward. Because maybe April had read the entire situation wrong and he absolutely hated the holiday.

“Raph I’m sorry.” You finally forced out. You deflated.

“I-I shouldn’t have just assumed that you would be fine with this. I should have asked if you were comfortable. A-April said that you were happy to celebrate that you would even pick out a gift so I got this all together and even bought you-” You stop yourself before anything else is said. You shift back, and he catches the way you seem to gently nudge something with your feet behind the couch.

“Just forget I said anything.” You mutter.

There didn’t seem to be a way to salvage this. When Raph huffed and went right back out the window, you were certain that you’d thoroughly messed up.

“Damn it! Stupid, stupid! Why would you not ask him! This is Raph!”

You began going on a rant in your head, just in time to hear Raph’s feet land again on the fire escape. When he crawled back through the window, you didn’t expect the items you saw in his hand. He still looked a bit agitated.

“I got this for ya. But a bunch of idiots robbed a lady and things got out of hand.”

The teddy bear’s arm was almost completely severed, and the dented box was hard to miss.

“Figured you deserved better than some beaten gifts.”

You could see how annoyed he was at the fact that the gifts were tattered, but for some reason, you couldn’t be happier.

He had every intention of coming over and celebrating. You were so worried you had crossed a line, or pushed too quickly. But he was just a little embarrassed that his perfectly planned gifts had been ruined.

Raph placed them on your table, looking away.

“It’s fine if you wanna throw them out. They aint much to look at.”

You couldn’t stop yourself. You moved forward, wrapping your arms around him.

Raph obviously didn’t expect that response. You buried your face into his chest laughing at how easily you’d gotten into your own head.

“Thank you Raph!!”

He was completely and utterly confused. When you finally pulled away, he could see the light blush dusted on your cheeks.

“Ya aint mad that you stuff got trashed? I thought chicks liked that kinda thing?”

Truth is you could care less if he bought you something. The simple fact that he intended to spend the day with you was enough.

“I just wanted to spend time with you Raph. When you got here looking angry I guess I just thought that April forced you into something that you didn’t want to do.”

The ironic part of this is that he’d gone to April for help in picking something you would like.

Looks like the both of you were just fools in love.

When the air was clear, you both sat down watching a movie. Action of course. The second he saw Vin Diesel he was hooked. So as the scenes of bloodshot ran across the screen, you took your time studying him. All those talks you’d had with Raph, you weren’t sure how you had missed this. The both of you were still trying to figure out what this was. You were grateful in a sense that nothing had changed drastically.

With Raph it felt sort of…natural.

It’s possible that you’d been staring too long, because he looked in your direction, and you straightened, averting your eyes from his form to focus on the screen as you cleared your throat.

“D-Do you want some more pizza? I’ll get it for you!”

You had every intention of making a sprint to the kitchen so you can gather your wits. Raph stopped you, taking your hand softly.

“Why do ya keep staring at me, it’s creepy.”

“I-I wasn’t staring!!” You defend. He just gives you a blank look.

“I’m a ninja, remember.”

Sometimes you wish you could forget, if nothing but to avoid hearing him mention it ever so often. He released his hold, and you play with the string on your shorts.

“I guess it’s just nice to see you smiling for a change. You’re always wearing that perpetual frown. “

“I don’t frown.”

“You’re doing it right now!”

“That’s just the way my face is!”

You can’t help it, you release a giggle, and Raph grumbles under his breath.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up.”

You do your best to stifle them. Because even his little angry face is kind of cute.

“I guess there are some adorable sides to you Raph.”

“I aint adorable!” He continued to protest, but your little gift bear said otherwise.

“Raph, really, thank you for tonight. I like this. Being here with you.”

There’s no longer teasing in your tone. Just a smile on your face. Raph curses internally. A part of him feels like he doesn’t deserve this. His pride had almost jeopardized a great night. He lowers his head.

“Sorry about earlier.”

“Raph you don’t have to keep apologizing I understand.”

He gets why you would say that. As much as he’s enjoyed the night, there’s something that has been eating at him.

“Did ya mean it when you said you wanted a chance.”

You’re a bit puzzled, but when his eyes turn on you, it seems to clear up everything.

“Loving me ain’t gonna be easy. I’ll probably keep making dumb mistakes.” He scratches his head a bit.

The mere fact that he feels the need to inform you of this shows maturity. As boneheaded as he acts sometimes, he knows his flaws. No one is perfect. Certainly not you.

“I don’t think it was a mistake.” His hand lowers.

“Raph, you tried to hide the gift because you care. You cared about my feelings and you wanted to show that with a beautiful present. You were willing to come here empty handed because you thought I deserved better. "

From the look on his face, it’s like you’ve read his mind.

“Don’t go reading into that.” He mumbles.

There is that tough guy act again. He’s too much.

“Must be hard carrying around all that ego on the back of your shell.”

You playfully tease, nudging his shoulder.

Life with Raph would no doubt be the best thing you’ve ever experienced.

#raphael #valentines #cute #humor #fluff #raph x reader #tough #trust #feelings #TMNT love #bayverse #admitting feelings #care #relationships

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scooptroopfanfic · 1 month

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Cas with a C CH2

Notes: Please look at the Chapter Select for warnings and to find other story related info!

Ever since the strange occurrence after the DND game Eddie has been keeping a close eye on the younger girl. During her shifts, she would notice him either eating something at the food court, “wandering around”, or reading books in the fantasy section of the store. The latter activity was one of his favorites to the point that which most other patrons would avoid the section altogether except for those of Eddie’s Hellfire or her other most frequent guests.

The other type of frequent guests were Steve’s friends. Not the party boys and girls that invite her out to different parties out of a sign of respect for the old King Steve, but instead people like Nancy or Dustin or Cassie’s favorites. She knows it can be bad to have favorites among her brother’s basically adopted kids, however she couldn’t help it with Max and El. It was very clear to Cassie that the two knew each other through the group at the beginning because their boyfriends were friends, but as the boys ditched them they started stopping by the bookstore when she was working.

For whatever reason which Cassie could not figure out El didn’t seem to act like a normal girl her age. It felt like she was mature beyond her years in some categories of life but in others like she was a toddler. The trait must be genetic because this causes Cassie to especially keep an eye on her. Whenever Max is trying to show El how to live like a typical girl Cassie steps in when on occasion El isn’t quite getting it with a book recommendation. Even sometimes when the lesson remained unspoken it was like Cassie knew what they needed before entering the shop, having already gone through the massive shelves until she found the exact volume they were looking for.

Since this wasn’t a library Cassie had to keep her book dragon in the back and the two girls she had taken under her wing hidden from her boss who was quick to throw people she saw overstaying their welcome out. Her boss was overall nice and fair so there was nothing that she could complain about when it came to hours and other nice benefits she got from working there, but she could be a terror in return with her policies. Thankfully the book dragon was good about making himself scarce when her boss started patrolling. That was normally when he would do his other two default options. The girls, however…

“Get back here!” Cassie winced as she heard her boss scream after the girls as they dropped their books and ran out. They giggled as they dodged her boss’s lunge towards them. Cassie looks to the far wall and sees a moving shadow start sneaking his way to another section. She prays that Eddie at least cleaned up after himself this time. “At this point this store needs security.” Mary, her boss, sighs to herself still a little upset.

“A lot of Hawkins proper is closing its doors. Including the library on occasion which I think is evil.”

“Wait really? That shouldn’t be the case.”

“Yeah. I know, I found it odd.” Cassie thinks back to when she checked it out.

“Why her?” Cassie asks Billy/the monster.

At this point, Billy has accepted something is wrong and still rages against it. The first time Billy fought back and won he looked at her with confusion and fear. “What the fuck are you doing here Harrington?”

“Minimizing casualties.” Cassie has immense guilt all over her face. “That thing is going to feed. It is the equivalent of a wild hungry wolf. The only thing we can do in the meantime is keep it hungry and content enough so it doesn’t consume the whole of Hawkins in a day.” She then feels herself getting lifted off the ground by Billy.

“Fucking help me or else I am beating you so much what I did to your brother will look like a joke.”

“I’m trying. This isn’t something that can be just reversed in a day. Just work with this thing and for a bit longer. Until the original wrong is made right.” Suddenly the eyes of anger and fear fade away and the familiar unimpressed look is back on his face as he slowly lowers her back down.

“This host and I are not compatible. It is enough to be able to control it but not enough to maintain it all the time. Don’t get yourself killed before I can finally have my perfect host.”

“I don’t plan on dying.”

She snaps back to herself. “I think she went on vacation. It is the summer after all.”

“So now we have to be at the library?”

“Well, what if we sell a membership that lets you treat it like one?” Cassie asks as she picks up the books the girls had to abandon on the ground and find themselves their proper home.

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you didn’t know about the library.”

“Smartass. Well, now your friends can actually be in here without having to run away every time they see me.”

“So you knew?”

“You aren’t exactly good at keeping secrets Cas.”

“Fair enough.” If only she knew the monstrous secret she did keep. “I’ll pay for them now.”

“Don’t worry about it. Consider it a finders fee. Just make sure they tell their friends about it.”

“Thank you, Mary.” She smiles at her as she grabs Eddie from behind the bookshelf she is working on. “In that case, this one will take one.” Mary gives Cassie a bewildered look.

“Why the hell are you friends with him?”

“Because we are both losers that like books. Besides, he is a good one to let in for free. After all, he is the head of a club at school so his friends will follow and they are massive fantasy fans.” Mary seems to contemplate something for a bit before she nods to herself.

“I was wondering if he was stalking you. As long as you don’t do any of that weird satan worship in here or curse the store I don’t care.” Cassie sighs a bit. She knows the boy next to her has a bit of a reputation for theatrics that people don’t exactly have respect for. She doesn’t clue her in about the DND stuff but the less she knows about that the better.

“Thank you.”

“Just be careful.” Cassie nods and walks with the boy back to the fantasy corner. When they get there she gives the boy a look that lowers him down to her height.

“Sorry Sweetheart.” That word almost makes Cassie perish on the spot.

“Don’t worry about it now. Just please clean up your little den over here mister book dragon.” At this, he makes his best monster noise which causes the only other person in the section to immediately leave. Cassie laughs slightly as Eddie shrugs.

“What’s his problem?” Cassie asks as she puts away a few of the books strewn across the floor.

“I dunno.” Eddie launches him at the bean bag chair he swiped from the kids section and lays across it making him take up most of the space.

“Some people.” She says as she grabs the book she saw him with last and puts it on his back. Eddie lazily reaches back and grabs the book before getting comfortable and wiggling himself into the bean bag chair. “Well, I’ll leave you to your book. I am at work after all.”

“Boo. I thought Harrington’s were supposed to be the life of the party.”

“Ewwww. Never call me that again.” Cassie fake gags as she leaves. This causes the boy to look at her in confusion as she goes over to the religious section and prays to whichever god is listening that she doesn’t get another lecture on how to organize those books.

——————————————————————-

When Dustin Henderson returns the Harrington siblings are some of the first to know. Cassie is taking her break in the back where no customers can get to. She hears a commotion between what sounds like a small child and her less-than-personable coworker so she decides to investigate.

“I heard Baby Hair works here?”

“Who is Baby Hair?”

“That would be me, Tracy,” Cassie says as she stands at the door. “So how was that nerd camp honorary little brother?”

“I have so much to tell you but I want to talk to both of you.”

“So you came here just to get the location of Steve? I’m hurt.” She holds her hand in a fist to her chest and falls slightly over it. Dustin gives her an odd look. “Habit I got from a friend.”

“You have friends?”

“Watch it small fry.”

“It is a genuine question.” At this, Cassie sighs.

“I have a few.”

“Better than the none you had besides me before the summer.” At this, Cassie looks hurt. She sees Eddie start stalking Dustin with one of his schemes and she gives him a look of warning as she flicks her eyes back to Dustin.

“You wound me. And after I got you and the boys a present too.” She says as she ducks into the back for a second and comes out with the book that she had on hold for him. “I wasn’t sure if you guys got one of your parents to get it but I figured I would-“

“HOLY SHIT! You got it!”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Dustin doesn’t answer as he flips through the book.

“How did you even get this?”

“A little convincing. I’m pretty good at it when I actually try.”

“So you do have the Harrington gene.”

“A bit. Not enough for guys to be falling over me even when I am a jackass but enough to get my way when I want to.” She then smiles a bit. “Now the next time you and the rest of the Party get together you have something new to play with. Let’s go find my brother.”

Cassie looks over at her coworker who gives her a nod and she is off for Scoops Ahoy on her break. When she does she sees the girl who is normally on shift with Steve manning the scoops looking less than happy to be there.

“Hey… Robin right?”

“Wow! I didn’t know the princess knew us lowly peasants.” Robin says sarcastically as braces herself against the back of the ice cream counter. At this point, Dustin walks forward with a smile that makes him seem younger than he actually is.

“Hi.”

“Hi?”

“I’m Dustin.”

“I’m Robin.”

“Pleasure to meet you. Uh. Is he here?”

“Is who here?” At this, Steve busts out from the back counter in excitement.

“Henderson.” They both start jumping and giggling and goofing off. Robin looks at the bizarre scene in confusion.

“Honorary Harrington here. I know babysitters are supposed to have their favorites but as you can see he does.” Cassie says with a laugh. Robin doesn’t look amused

“How many children are you friends with?” She asks both of them. Steve looks a bit annoyed and Cassie starts counting.

For Robin and the rest of the customer's mental health, Cassie suggests they move outside, and with a bit of money, Cassie and Steve buy Dustin a banana boat and ask him about his summer.

“You have a girlfriend?!”

“How?”

“When?”

“Is she hot?” The Harrington’s grill Dustin for details. As soon as Dustin starts describing her she seems a little too good to be true for her and she looks around. She looks back at the bookstore and sees Eddie in the window. He waves at her with a finger wave but then he tries to gesture her over. She subtly waves her head no and he dramatically pretends to slowly die in the bookstore causing multiple women in the store to run out in confusion and fright.

“They ditched me yesterday.” At this, Cassie comes back to the conversation looking at Dustin with worry.

“No.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“My first day back. You believe that shit?”

“Whoa seriously?”

“I swear to god.” Dustin takes a bite of his popcorn and Cassie gently pats him on the shoulder as Steve looks confused. “They are going to regret it big time when they don’t get to share in my glory.”

“Cassie! Please help. Your big nerd friend is scaring people away.”

“Really? Shit is getting juicy over here.”

“Please.”

“Fine. You two better not do anything stupid while I am gone.” Cassie says as she grabs one of the cone sails and eats it as she runs into the store.

“Eddie? Are you alive?” Cassie asks as she enters the store. She looks where he ‘collapsed’ on the floor a few moments ago just to find him missing. She looks over to her coworker for help but she decides it is a good time to go on her break. “Asshole.” She mutters under her breath.

Cassie isn’t exactly short. She is taller than the average girl but not by much. Even then the shelves around her seem massive and make her feel like she is in a maze. It is like the labyrinth and she is going in to slay the Minotaur. Except this is a super senior boy who may or may not be into witchcraft and Satanism. She is like 90% sure that is not true but she isn’t positive he isn’t.

As her mind begins to wander she feels the chill in the back of her neck again. As she turns around she is still in the bookstore but not her bookstore. In front of her is not Billy.

“Jesus Christ.” She jumps as she holds her chest. “Warn a girl before you kidnap her mind like this.” The beast seems unamused. “What do you want? I would give us maybe 5 minutes in mental time before my friend out there gets worried.”

“I need to grow.”

“Yeah, and how is that my problem to solve?”

“Unless you want your little and big friends to be on the menu I suggest you come up with something.”

“How much control do you have of your meat suit there?”

“Minimal. He stopped the first attack.”

“Tough luck. Maybe try someone else… Maybe your fellow lifeguard?” She asks as she sees that Billy is going to work.

“Lifeguard?”

“The woman in your meat suit is going to be replaced in a few minutes. Red outfit, megaphone, and a whistle.” At this the beast hums.

“Smart. Start close then expand. I shall not lure in the other woman then.”

“Huh. Almost like I was supposed to be your host.” The monster doesn’t seem to get it as it nods.

“Yes, I suppose so.” It suddenly ends contact and Cassie turns around just to run into Eddie.

“Boo!” Cassie actually jumps back away from him.

“Fucking hell!”

“Whoa there. It wasn’t that bad of a scare. Are you ok?”

“…yeah. Sorry. I’m just worried about my friend.”

“The little kid in the cap?”

“Yeah. You know how some groups go. People start dating each other. People grow apart because of dating. The little guy is the only one not dating who wants to and it is so bad I’m pretty sure he just lied to me about having one.”

“You do know that my friends are just Hellfire right?”

“Oh… Sorry.”

“Why apologize. I wouldn’t trade them for the world. After all.” He then goes into his DM voice. “Who would I save the world with one session at a time?” At this, Cassie playfully taps him causing him to wind back in mock offense.

“Goof.” She says as Eddie pretends to be seriously wounded.

And with that, they go back into the fantasy corner for a few hours in peace. Eddie in his bean bag chair and Cassie in a rocking chair she dragged from the kid's section.

“Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you stay here? Like you probably have a lot to plan for and do, so why do you stay here?”

“Hmm… I dunno. The others have summer school and I can’t do that so I guess I am bored?” Cassie seems to stare at him for a second before she raises her book so she can wipe her nose.

“Hmm. Fair. Plus I can get you a nice DND dungeon away from home and free books without having to be quiet.”

And with that, the conversation dies. They both dive headfirst into their books seeming to at least somewhat enjoy each other's presence.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #oc #original character #eddie #eddie munson x original character #eddie munson x oc #stranger things fic #stranger things x oc

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sako-mii · 1 year

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you were still doing genshin character match ups~

If so, here it goes!

I'm an Aries, INTP, and hetero. My love languages (giving) are acts of service and physical touch.

I can say I'm an introverted person who enjoys her own company. At first impression people often tell me that I'm the serious, uptight, and quiet,type (which is partly true). Although I might initiate conversations with strangers to fill an awkward silence, I like to keep people at a distance (emotionally). Although with people whose company I have taken a liking to and enjoy, I cam be pretty outspoken and expressive! Sometimes I'm honest to a fault, I say things as I see it and can be accidentally rude. In friendships, I'm usually the mom friend who likes to crack lewd/crackhead jokes.

I have a love for the arts (mostly visual arts, I'm an artist who draws in her spare time). I also like listening to music, daydreaming, and just enjoying peaceful moments in silence. I also really like to do intellectual discussions with people who can match my energy!

I dislike being late, mixing pleasure with business, dishonesty, mind games, pushy people, and crowds.

I'm can be an absolute perfectionist in academic/craft/career settings, and I think my strongest trait is my willingness to take initiative and cooperate. I like helping others in any way I can, and I like taking on the support role in group dynamics. Also secretly a hopeless romantic~

Being a Forest Ranger has it's perk, you get to learn about all the different environments and you get to be away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

You're job is to write down all the adventures and refine the drawings to send the new gathered info to the akademiya.

But you also teach Collei, while Tighnari trains her to be a Ranger, you focus more on her education and help her read and write.

Tighnari sometimes tells you shouldn't put too much pressure on Collei, you say that to him as well. But it's just you both being overprotective.

However, you win the upper hand when tighnari passes out after eating a poisonous mushroom and gets dragged back by your coworkers. He sure got am earful from you.

At first, your coworkers were surprised how you can even talk to him like that, or why he hasn't talked back. But soon they find out about your close relationship. Only you are able to scold him like that.

You would always stand beside him when he's making some herbal medicine or antinodes, helping him to write down every step. Of course he could do it alone, but he likes it when you look so focused (on him)

He will bring you a flower every time he comes back, mostly lunar lotus. He would tell you about the benefits from the flower but you know he just wanted to get you something

Whenever he comes back from patrolling the area, you both sit together and watch the forest together in silence. Sometimes you talk about different kinds of stuff too. Just know that you won't be able to stop him once he starts to talk about plants.

He likes it when you touch his ears. At first he was a bit reluctant and felt flustered at the thought. But now he doesn't want to admit that he likes them. He'll just quietly lean his head towards you so you can touch his ears. He's probably going to deny it if you ask him if he likes it.

Over time he starts to like your jokes as well but definitely rolls his eyes when you and cyno start your puns and jokes. He's tolerating it only for you.

Hello~ first of all I'm so sorry it took so long (⁠⇀⁠‸⁠↼⁠‶⁠) but I hope you like it!

#misa: answers #genshin impact #matchup #genshin impact matchup #tighnari #tighnari genshin #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you

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queen--kenobi · 2 years

Note

“Morning Fox,” Thorn says, his voice lower than usual, when Fox enters their small kitchenette (or rather the untapped storage closet they use as a breaking room and put a coffee brewer in it). He doesn’t look up. There’s no need. He knows from the sound of steps alone who it is.

Fox is about to give his usual grumpy non vocal response. He’s not a morning person and neither is Thorn. Fox… not sir… He pauses right in the middle of the sound… and looks over to his brother, coffee forgotten.

“How is it with you?” he asks, raising a brow.

“Fine. Gettin’ ready for patrol with Thire.”

“That’s not what I meant.” After a short pause in which Thorn remains silent he adds: “So, your further visit to her yesterday evening was… eventful?” Fox doesn’t know why he even asks. Thorn’s easygoing demeanor speaks volumes.

Thorn can’t hold back the smile that’s spreading on his lips, even if he tried. Far too vividly he can remember her soft curves wrapped up in the delicate fabric of her underwear. His erratic heartbeat the moment he bared every inch of her for his eyes to see…She’s been even more beautiful than he’d ever imagined. He still can feel her soft heat enveloping him.

Fox fights the tight feeling in his chest. He knew his brother would visit her, Thorn had told him before he left… Fox had wished him a pleasant evening. As far as he can read his brother’s expression, it’s been beyond pleasant. He’s happy for him, Thorn deserves. Whenever they talk about her, both of them are well aware of the unspoken feelings each of them nurses for her. Whatever feelings this might be. And yet… something inside him wishes it has been himself who’d spent the evening with her. He doesn’t want Thorn to know, so he says the first thing that comes to his mind.

“You’d better left her satisfied for the night, vod.”

OH yes he had. And he did it again… this morning…. Yet, it was also the other way around. The tingling sensation of her fingertips on his skin, her gentle caress rousing him from sleep. He's never slept as good as last night. He's never woken up more... satisfied and relaxed.

His arms had reached for her, tenderly holding her close. He hopes she hadn’t noticed. If only he could, he’d still be lying next to her, keeping her in a tight embrace.

“Take what you need,” was what he had said. “Give me all that I need,” what he had meant.

He’d taken his time with her this morning. With each gentle roll of his hips, with each slow thrust inside her, with every exhaled moan of her name… with every of her needy noises he swallowed… he devoted to make… NO.

He didn’t get back to the barracks afterwards… Her scent, proof of her arousal, is still evident beneath his gloves. He didn’t just dream about it. Almost absentmindedly he looks down at his hand. “Hmmm.” is all he can say.

Fox’s heart stops beating. For so long he knows his brother - there’s this deep understanding between them, even without words exchanged. This… this is Thorn falling for her. Even though he doesn’t realize it himself.

“What did you do?” Fox whispers, his piercing look never leaves his brother.

Thorn finally looks up and their gazes meet… It’s written so evidently in his face! The sparkle in his eyes - Fox has never seen it before.

He wants to scream! Wants to shout out the pain taking a hold of him. Whatever it was that was going on between them, he desperately wishes to experience it himself. Yet he can’t! The second he lays his hands on her, he puts her in danger. He wouldn’t stand it…Siths hells, he’s delighted for his brother to eventually surrender to this longing he had for so long now… and still… and still there’s this selfish desire inside him to know what it would be like.

“I… stayed for the night,” Thorn finally answers, holding Fox’s gaze. Anyone but him might have winced.

Fox closes the door. He knows this is going to hurt beyond bearable.

“Tell me!” he demands, his voice holds the hint of a tremble. Anyone but Thorn would have missed it…

“And don’t leave anything out.”

AAAAAAHHHHHHH

First of all, thank you for sending me this I'm !!! Heart eyes motherfucker

Second, yes. Fox wanting to know but also not wanting to know??? Perfect. I love it

#Persephone speaks #NSFT

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opalesense · 3 years

Note

um um hiii! im like literally in l o v e with ur writing, especially the diluc and kaeya stories (im such a simp omg) and was wondering if you could do some more diluc x reader x kaeya nsfw—

ofc you can ignore this but ty if you consider it!! stay hydrated and safe ily <3

over the counter

diluc x f!reader x kaeya (NSFW)

6.5k words • ~40 min. read

summary: after a tense night at the tavern, kaeya accidentally forgets his belongings and comes back to see you and diluc having an intimate moment – or maybe it wasn’t an accident...

warnings: slight degradation, a lot of jealousy!! drama!!

notes: reader is in a relationship with diluc beforehand just to switch things up a little from my last fic! also this fic favors diluc a lot more so diluc simps come get your juice ;D thanks for waiting anon ily too <3 i’m so sorry this took so long T_T

SPENDING WEEKEND NIGHTS AT THE TAVERN was not uncommon for you. In fact, whether you were in the mood to drink or not, one of the main reasons you frequently visited the bar was to keep Diluc company, who greatly appreciated the effort you put into making sure he didn’t feel alone while he worked. Evenings with the two of you were often spent idly chatting while he served drinks, which surely kept his spirits up throughout the longer and busier nights. Customers usually commented about how Diluc always seemed to have a grin on his face when you were around, unlike some other nights where his deadpan expression often intimidated the people of Mondstadt and subsequently intimidated the customers themselves.

That didn’t stop business from booming, of course. As long as the alcohol was good and quickly served, customers couldn’t care less about how intimidating Diluc could be. Neither would they care about how he would sneak some free drinks to your seat across the bar if you asked for it, or how he would shyly rest his hand on top of yours if the night was slow and no one was paying attention.

In the end, on weekend nights when you were sitting in your favorite seat at the bar that was conveniently never taken no matter how busy the night was (or maybe not so convenient, since Diluc always made sure to secretly reserve it when the weekend rolled around), people knew never to bother the two of you. After all, on nights when Diluc was happy, he gave spectacular service to bargoers, who decidedly took advantage of this hospitality and thus visited Angels Share more often knowing the atmosphere was better if you were there.

But of course, as soon as a certain blue haired customer walked into the establishment to take his long awaited night off of the week, Diluc couldn’t help but shake his head at you and sarcastically remark, “Well, here comes trouble...”

“What, are you not happy to see me, brother?” After placing his belongings down, Kaeya took his seat next to you and shot you a friendly grin to briefly acknowledge your presence. “I’ve been coming here after work almost every night for so long – have you finally gotten tired of me already?”

Diluc rolled his eyes and began making a Death After Noon for his brother, already knowing the specific bittersweet flavor he likes without Kaeya needing to ask. “Come to think of it, it’s about time I take off that family discount of yours, I’ve been too nice to you these past months.”

Kaeya crossed his arms as he leaned forward on the counter with a scoff. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I need financial compensation for the headache that you induce whenever you’re in the same vicinity as me,” Diluc joked as he finished making the drink then set it in front of Kaeya, who took the glass with a pout and turned to face you.

“You hear this guy? Financial compensation... as if he needs it, being the richest jerk in all of Mondstadt to date.”

“Watch your tone, idiot,” Diluc snapped back as he turned to serve another awaiting customer.

There was no doubt that the two seemed to get along quite well as of late. At first it was almost as if they were both trying to impress you by showing you that they could be nice to each other as per your request, but as time passed, competition turned into a slow realization of having genuine concern for each other, and the brothers have been on the road to reconciliation ever since. Even when Diluc ended up being the one to completely sweep you off your feet and steal your heart, Kaeya never showed any opposition and even encouraged your relationship. “Despite everything, you truly deserve her, ‘Luc,” you overheard him reassure Diluc months ago after admitting defeat in their competition.

There was no doubt that you loved Diluc more than anything. He provided you with everything you could ever ask for, from emotional support and material things to overwhelming satisfaction in the bedroom. But at the back of your mind, especially on slightly tipsy nights such as this one, lies a certain lingering thought about that certain blue haired brother. Was it so bad to fantasize about being pressed between the two? Was it so bad to imagine the feeling of being fondled and manhandled by both of them at the same time? Was it so bad to be at least curious about being shared between the two?

You took a sip of your free drink as you stared blankly at the dents on the wooden counter.

Maybe it is bad, you thought.

After all, if Diluc mentioned that he wanted a threesome with someone else, you wouldn’t exactly be ecstatic about it.

That’s why you would never mention these fantasies to either of them, despite trusting them both with all of your secrets after being close with them for so long. You were scared of how Diluc would react to your curiosity. You were scared he would get the wrong impression and that your relationship would come tumbling down as a consequence of your little fantasy.

Maybe it is bad.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Kaeya snapping his fingers in front of your face. His head was tilted to the side as if he were trying to meet your downturned gaze. “Hey. Did I lose you? What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I was just lost in thought,” you ignored the subtle compliment and averted your eyes from the counter to look at Kaeya’s face, the shadows of the dimly lit tavern casting on him at the perfect angle to show off his features. You had to admit he was handsome - hell, all of Mondstadt surely thought so too. You glanced around nervously looking for Diluc to see a glimpse of his fiery hair heading up the stairs to the second floor, presumably to serve a table. He was understaffed today, you remember him saying.

“What were we talking about again?” you asked Kaeya, a little dazed and confused, overwhelmed by the reality of the moment. The clinking of glasses throughout the tavern, the bard playing the lyre in the corner, and the large group of rowdy men at a nearby table flooded your senses, leaving you a bit dizzy with no help at all from the alcohol. He simply laughed, gazing down as he swirled his own drink in his glass then met your eyes once more.

“I was asking how you and Diluc have been,” his sharp stare contrasted with his soft grin as the currently sober man turned his stool to completely face you. There was intention in his eyes, but you couldn’t exactly pinpoint what those intentions were. “I know he doesn’t like to catch up with small talk so I don’t like to bother asking him about what’s new.”

With the heel of your boot you decided to turn your stool to face him as well. Your knees were less than an inch away from touching his, which made you internally flustered given the fantasy you were just thinking about. You tried your best to keep your eyes on his face, ignoring his exposed skin just under his neck. He tilted his head back and took a sip of his drink then continued. “Besides, I enjoy talking to you more than him anyway.”

You could see right through him in this moment. Or at least, you thought you could. Maybe you were overthinking it, but you swore you could see his sapphire eyes slowly trail from your eyes down your body all the way to your grazing knees then dart back up again.

Maybe it was bad. Maybe it was the lighting.

“We’ve been doing good,” you nodded, studying his face more. “He’s been a lot happier recently since the two of you have been getting along more. Don’t tell him I told you that, though,” you leaned in slightly with a wink.

Kaeya let out a low chuckle at that and looked down at his glass again, taking a moment to form his next words. With a nod, he let out a sigh of relief. “That’s great. You’ve been looking a lot happier too, I can tell.”

“Oh? How exactly can you tell? We haven’t seen each other in a while,” you crossed your legs, feeling defensive, which accidentally brushed his in the process. You quietly apologized and he slightly lifted his hand up to excuse you.

“Oh, it’s nothing too crazy. It’s just the glow in your face and the pep in your step when I see you on the streets while I’m out patrolling. Seems like Diluc’s got one happy girl,” he tilted his head back for another sip, and for a moment, you saw his genial smile drop as he set his glass back down on the counter. But as quickly as he let go of his façade , he quickly masked his intentions again with a chuckle.

He seemed a little jealous, you thought. But before you could fully form a thought around that idea, Diluc came back with a tray in hand, empty glasses and mugs balancing on top of his palm. He carefully placed each of them into the sink and got to work on washing then drying them.

“How have you been, Kaeya?” he said with his back turned towards you both, “You weren’t flirting with my [Y/N] while I was gone, were you?”

“How could I do such a thing?” Kaeya huffed, seemingly offended. “Put some more faith in me, brother.”

Diluc turned around with a glass in hand, drying it with a rag and initially focusing his attention on Kaeya. You watched as the two stared at each other across the bar for a few moments, the air suddenly getting thicker as they both emanated a strange seriousness, almost as if they were arguing telepathically. Diluc’s intense stare burned into Kaeya’s cold expression, his arms tensing up so much that you thought he was going to break the glass in his hands. It was a little scary to witness how quickly the mood could change in only a few minutes, and feeling a little uncomfortable, you decided to stand up and make your way to the second floor balcony for some fresh air, away from the loud atmosphere of the main room and even further away from whatever random feud the brothers sparked up tonight.

The crisp air was meditative. It was soothing to stand on the balcony, leaning over the rail and staring into the night sky, letting your mind wander. Your days were often bustling with work and interacting with people so it was very rare to have a moment like this to yourself. At first, you figured it would be best to go back downstairs – after all, it had been a week since you’ve talked to Kaeya and it would be nice to catch up with your friend. But you weren’t sure why the mood was suddenly so tense, especially since nothing had really happened and as much as you knew how Diluc was protective over you, you felt like he was overreacting.

As you took slow sips of your drink, savoring the taste and gazing upon the night life of Mondstadt below, seconds turned into minutes, then minutes turned into an hours, and soon the moon had settled into the midnight sky and the tavern was nearing its closing time. You hadn’t realized that so much time had passed until Kaeya, who was usually the last customer to leave the tavern, whistled towards you from below as he was walking home, waving to get your attention then finally turning away and bidding farewell.

“Darling,” you heard a familiar voice behind you as you were waving back to Kaeya, “Did I do something to upset you?”

You turned to see a clearly apologetic Diluc standing in the balcony doorway, his arms crossed and hair messily thrown up into a ponytail. “Why didn’t you come back inside? We were waiting for you,” he quietly asked as he slowly approached you.

He placed his hands on your waist and pressed his forehead against yours while rubbing small circles into your sides with his thumbs. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips which he gladly returned with several more gentle kisses across your face, humming slowly and patiently waiting for your response.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Diluc. I really just needed some fresh air. I’ve felt a little overwhelmed all night and didn’t notice how much time passed,” you muttered.

You were telling half the truth.

You didn’t want to admit that you thought Diluc was being a little overdramatic, and you certainly didn’t want to tell him that you were overwhelmed with the thought of being touched by him and his brother at the same time. Some things are better left unsaid.

Maybe that was bad. Maybe white lies were okay, only for now.

He pressed one last kiss to your forehead before nodding as he processed your words. “Let’s get you warmed up back inside, you must have been freezing out here.”

“I didn’t think this is what you meant by getting warmed up,” you softly giggled in between passionate kisses as his bare, warm hands traveled up your top to eventually pull the entire damned thing off. He tossed it off to the side mindlessly before unbuttoning his own uniform top and letting it drape next to yours over the bar stool it landed on.

“I’ve had a long night,” he trailed the kisses down to your neck, gently biting enough to only leave subtle marks and murmuring against your skin. He lifted you up onto the counter to get better leverage over you, slowly spreading your legs apart then continuing the kisses down your collarbone. “And you look so beautiful tonight, I can’t help myself.”

“Just make it quick, okay?” you nervously looked at the window behind him which allowed the moonlight to illuminate the already darkened bar but also allowed anyone who felt like peering in to clearly see the two of you getting touchy in the tavern. You let him press up against you regardless, feeling his bulge grind against your clothed hips desperately. “What if someone sees?” you whispered, teasing him with the idea of getting interrupted and caught, which you knew annoyed him to the core.

“Good,” he paused for a moment to look up at you, his hungry eyes burning into your memory. “Let them see that you’re clearly mine.”

Your heart throbbed at this sudden possessiveness and with a naughty smirk, you decided to give up the innocent act. With a few swift movements, the rest of your clothes were ripped off until you were half naked, the only remaining bit of modesty you had being the underwear that clinged to your skin until Diluc eventually pulled that off too, exposing you fully to him.

“So beautiful,” he sighed as he kneeled down in front of you, pulling your hips towards him then pinning your knees to the counter as he lowered his head to your aroused cunt. “And all mine.”

You couldn’t help but let out quiet, staggered breaths as he immediately wrapped his lips around your clit, gently sucking and nibbling on the sensitive nub as his eyes remained glued to yours. “All y-yours,” you reaffirmed, which made him hum in appreciation.

He had never considered fucking you in the tavern before, especially since he rarely had the establishment all to himself for a shift, but just this once, he was happy he was understaffed tonight. All the frustrations he had endured this evening, from the annoying table on the main floor to bickering with Kaeya about things that didn’t seem to matter anymore led to this very moment where he hungrily licked your wet folds, burying himself into the sound of your hesitant moans and feeling himself harden by the second.

“P-Please fuck me already,” you breathlessly begged, “Please, Diluc, hurry…”

“Cum for me first,” his low voice muttered into your aching cunt, making your legs quiver, “Show me how much you really want it.”

The whine that escaped your throat was suddenly replaced with a gasp as Diluc pushed two fingers into you, immediately setting a quick pace and pressing into your sweet spot. “Cum for me, darling,” he let go of the grip on your leg to stand up and hover over your torso, leaning closer to your face and snaking his free hand up your back. “Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.”

“D-Diluc…!” you whimpered with a pout, which earned a hum of disapproval from him.

“Master Diluc,” he sternly reminded you, shifting his fingers into you quicker, causing your brain to malfunction as you began to tighten around him.

“M-Master…! I’m…!”

“Go on,” he ran his fingers through your scalp and grabbed a handful of hair, leaning down to kiss you and muffle your moans of pleasure as you finally reached your climax, gushing around his fingers and trembling at his touch. You whimpered in his mouth, muscles slightly spasming still as you started to calm down from your high and feel his fingers slowly pull out of you. While keeping his grip on your hair, he let go of the kiss and stuck out his tongue against his fingers, licking your fluids in front of you and smiling in satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he said as he revelled in his favorite taste. You watched as he lapped up all the fluids, the mixture of cum and saliva glimmering on his fingers under the light of the moon through the window.

Speaking of which, you weren’t sure if it was the way you were slightly tipsy or perhaps the heat of the moment deceiving you, but through Diluc’s messy locks and shiny fiingers, you swore you saw a glimpse of a familiar shade of blue through the window. It was unmoving, sure, but it was there nonetheless, and it wasn’t there the last time you looked through the glass.

Maybe it was bad.

Maybe it was Kaeya.

Horror sunk into your chest for a fleeting moment, but you blamed it on the alcohol, and the way you were thinking about Kaeya and Diluc so much within the past few hours. Besides, all the thoughts you were having about the strange color in the window were replaced by the way Diluc unbuttoned his pants with one hand, the other still intertwined in your hair, then freed his cock and let it rest on your stomach as he slowly laid you down across the counter. He pulled you towards him once more so your head could rest on the wood, his hair-tangled hand acting as a cushion while his elbow took its place beside you so he completely caged you in. “Be quiet for me, okay? We don’t want to wake all of Mondstadt this late at night…”

“I’ll be good,” you promised him, letting your hands travel down to feel his length resting on your skin. It had some weight to it as you lifted it, and as if you two were mentally in perfect sync, he pulled his hips back to let you position the tip at your entrance.

Excitement boiled in your stomach as he slowly inched his hips forward, pushing his cock into you little by little, stretching your walls apart by the seams. Your mouth went agape with the sheer stretch alone and fighting the urge to moan had never been more difficult. Instead, the only sounds that filled the silent room was Diluc’s heavy breath as he closed his eyes from the way you wrapped around him so well, the gentle gasps and whimpers from you as he bottomed out and nearly hit your cervix, then the sudden rhythmic slapping of skin as he began to pound into you with no warning.

Your eyes rolled back into your head at the rush of pleasure that came with the rolling of his hips into yours. It was so difficult to keep quiet, so hard not to at least whimper and give tiny moans here and there as he fucked you silly on that bar counter, but he couldn’t care less since he told you to be quiet and expected you to follow suit. You knew that. He instead opted to gently wrap his hand on your throat without applying pressure – simply as a warning.

You couldn’t control your orgasm even if you wanted to. The way he stared into your eyes so desperately while his cock kissed your cervix repeatedly made you lose control so easily, and he took advantage of the way you tightened around him by fucking into you harder. Faster. Deeper.

“You’re so fucking good, darling,” his hazy eyes glanced down to your lips with the intent to lean down for a kiss. “You’re–“

A loud knock on the door startled the two of you enough for Diluc to stop his thrusts and look up towards the source of the noise, a few red strands of hair draping over your face and tickling your cheek. He stared intensely at the door, pushing into you again at snail speed as he waited for an indicator of who was the culprit of the noise.

Another knock sent a jolt up your spine – or maybe it was the way Diluc snapped his hips into you once then slowly pulled back to drag out the pleasure. With a frustrated huff, he decided to tighten the pressure around your neck and pound into you at the relentless speed he set before, quietly shushing you when you initially gasped in surprise.

After one more knock, Diluc lost his patience. It was his greatest pet peeve of interruption becoming a reality. “We’re closed!” his voice boomed loudly so the person on the other side of the door would surely hear him, startling you at the sudden break of silence. Clearly frustrated, he pounded into you faster, chasing his pleasure, knowing that he would need to deal with whoever was bothering the two of you this late at night and wanting to quickly reach his release before then.

“It’s me,” both of your eyes widened at the familiar voice, “I forgot my stuff at my seat, could you let me in real quick?”

Diluc turned his gaze down past your head to see that, as a matter of fact, Kaeya’s belongings were still at his seat from earlier. His eyebrow twitched as he quickly pulled himself off of you, leaving you quietly gasping for air and clenching around nothing.

“Get under the counter,” he whispered so quietly that you just barely heard him, “Don’t move a muscle.”

Following his command, you made you way under the counter, nestling your naked body next to a cabinet of liquor as you watched Diluc button his pants and loosely put his shirt back on, buttoning it while he walked around the bar towards the door. At that point, all you could do was listen to a set of keys jingle as he unlocked the tavern door and a gust of cold air rushed through the entrance, strong enough that you shivered behind the counter and hugged your knees to retain warmth.

“Get your things then get out,” Diluc bluntly greeted Kaeya, who chuckled in response.

“Aw, why the sudden hostility again?” you heard slow footsteps approach the bar, sending your heart racing with anxiety, “And why the disheveled appearance? Oh, let me guess–“

“Get your things. Then get out,” Diluc said more sternly. You could recognize that tone from anywhere. He was furious.

“But let me guess first! Judging by the way the tavern is still a mess, I know you weren’t cleaning up the place just now. And by the way your clothes are so messily put together even though they were so neat and tidy earlier, as well as the sweat on your forehead… Oh, don’t tell me I interrupted something intimate, dear brother!”

You didn’t need to see him to know that Diluc’s jaw was tensed, unable to form a response out of pure annoyance and frustration. And still, Kaeya pressed his buttons.

“You were fucking her real good,” he teased after waiting for a response and getting nothing from Diluc, ”I could hear it from outside the door.”

“I fucking hate you,” was all Diluc could say in response. He didn’t actually mean it, you knew this, but he was beyond irritated.

Kaeya shuffled to grab his belongings by his seat and turned to face the door. But as if he weren’t being petty enough, he reached into his bag for something and suddenly tossed it behind him – his house keys, which landed behind the bar right next to your feet. Your eyes widened at this. You swore you stopped breathing even if you didn’t mean to.

“I think I might have left something behind the counter too, mind if I check?”

The silence that followed was unbearable, even if it only lasted a few seconds. All of the sudden, your heart began to pound out of your chest, not only because of sheer fear and anxiety, but also because of the possibility that Kaeya would see you so vulnerable behind that counter, naked and hugging your knees, waiting for someone to hold you and ‘warm you up.’ Maybe he already did see you through that window. Maybe it wasn’t just your mind playing tricks on you.

“Okay, I’m sorry, Diluc, maybe I’ve gone too far–“

“No,” Diluc interrupted him, “Go ahead. Go get your keys.”

What?

“Seriously?” Kaeya scoffed in disbelief.

What are you doing, Diluc?

“Go on.”

What’s happening?

“‘Luc, I know she’s there, I’m just messing with you–“

“No, Kaeya,” Diluc turned to close the tavern door and lock it, “I know you’ve been eyeing her since the very beginning, even before I came along. I’m not even mad, I just feel sorry for you. I feel sorry that I took away someone you wanted so badly and that you haven’t been able to move on since.”

Diluc took a few steps towards the speechless brother and lowered his voice, still maintaining the same intensity and dragging out his words. “So why don’t you go behind the counter and get your fucking keys? While you’re there, you might as well fuck my girlfriend with me too, since you want her attention so badly.”

The room froze in time, only for a moment. Thoughts began to flood your mind – why would Diluc say that, especially since he was usually very protective over you? Should you refuse to let Kaeya see you, or let it happen? After all, it’s not like you weren’t at least a little bit curious how this situation would unfold...

While you sat in the corner naked and trembling, you held back your breath and listened to Kaeya’s footsteps slowly drag across the wooden floor, the creaking getting closer and closer until he was in your peripheral vision. “Diluc,” he immediately turned away once he saw you sitting there, exposed and cold, then let out a disgruntled sigh.

“Come now, Kaeya,” Diluc stepped in front of him to enter the bar and suddenly grab your arm, lifting you up with no hesitation and making you gasp in embarassment. He pinned your arms behind your back and turned to make you face Kaeya, whose eyes were glued to the opposite wall out of a little bit of respect. “How about we make this a competition, since you seem to love competing so much?”

“Diluc,” you whimpered as you tried to struggle out of his grasp with no success, which you didn’t complain about because a part of you wanted to unravel this situation even further. “Please…”

“Please what, darling?” he muttered into your ear from behind, “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve been pining for him too.”

“N-No, of course not,” you whined, “I just…”

Maybe it was bad.

Maybe it was bad, but you were going to do it anyway.

You pressed yourself against his hips, gently grinding on his erection and letting out small whimpers. Just like Diluc, you hated being interrupted and couldn’t exactly think straight. All of this petty arguing didn’t matter to you, especially since you wanted them both from the beginning either way. In an attempt to admit your secret without explicitly saying it, you mustered up the courage to mutter, “Please, both of you, stop fighting and just… fuck me…”

Diluc tightened his grip around you with a grin, letting out a low scoff. “Slut. I knew you were a slut,” your eyes widened and stomach burned in excitement at the sudden degrading nickname he called you, “I bet you’ve been thinking about something like this for a while, haven’t you?”

You sheepishly nodded as he slowly pushed you back onto the counter, this time laying you on your stomach and bending you over. “I won’t deny that I’ve been thinking about the same thing lately,” he started to unbutton his top again as you raised an eyebrow at this new information. He huffed with annoyance as he unbuttoned his pants and turned his head to the dumbfounded brother across the bar. “Kaeya, either grab your keys and go or stay here and keep her mouth occupied. I’ll let you decide – just make it quick and quit standing there.”

With your head dangling off the counter, you watched as Kaeya slowly turned around to face the two of you, studying the scene for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. As if he finally made a decision, he put down his belongings again, took off his vest, and made his way across the counter, his hips only a foot away from your face. Meanwhile, Diluc had already freed his cock once more, keeping one hand on your restricted arms and using the other to prod your entrance with his tip. The excitement was overwhelming, coursing through your veins as you watched Kaeya slowly unbutton his pants as well with a bit of reluctance.

“Please hurry, Kaeya,” you softly begged, hoping to encourage him to quit holding back since it was obvious he was being overly shy, “Please, I want this so bad…”

“I’m sure you do, darling,” he adopted the pet name from Diluc, “But I like seeing you so needy for me when I’m moving slow like this.”

Letting out an impatient growl, Diluc grabbed onto your hips as he sheathed his cock with your cunt all at once, making you mewl and sigh at the feeling of being full again. He began rolling his hips deeply just as he did before he was so rudely interrupted, never failing to maintain his quick rhythm and making your brain short circuit.

With his slender fingers, Kaeya held your chin in his hand, lifting your face up to look at his and grinning once he saw how your mind was lost as you burned with pleasure. He stared at your flushed cheeks and panting mouth, comparing it to the usual calm and composed demeanor you always seemed to have. He smirked, rubbing a small circle into your chin with his thumb. “So this pretty, helpless face is what Diluc gets to see every single day? I’m very jealous, brother.”

That comment only made Diluc pound into you harder, his weight shifting into his arm to pin you down further. “Cry about it,” he mocked.

Ignoring the comment, Kaeya only pressed his lips together in a pout to tease you, slowly taking out his cock which made your mind boggle at the sheer size of it. He was just as deliciously large as Diluc was, and as he began to stroke it in front of your face, secretly admiring the sight of you being fucked senseless by his brother, you couldn’t help but feel like you were melting in the presence of such dominating forces hovering over you. Without second thought, you left your mouth agape, letting your tongue stick out in a wordless way of telling him you wanted to take him, to satiate your hungry desires that you hid for quite some time now.

“Eager, are we?” Kaeya didn’t seem to ever shut up his teasing, “I was just going to stand here and enjoy the show, but if you really want it that badly…”

One hand on your chin turned into one thumb in your mouth, which you received gratefully nonetheless. He let you suckle sweetly on his finger, cooing at how pathetic you looked drooling all over it when he hadn’t done anything yet. All the while Diluc let go of your folded arms and instead used both hands to firmly grip your ass and pound into you deeper, the sound of slapping skin filling up the room along with his shaky breaths now and then.

A whimper escaped your throat as you looked up at Kaeya’s face, He didn’t need to hear you say the words to know that you were quietly begging for a taste of him by looking at him so innocently, and as such, your wish was his command. He took a step forward to nestle the head of his cock into your mouth, his thumb still on your tongue to make you open up wider and let you salivate over the taste of his skin until he slowly began pushing himself deeper, watching your gag reflex just to find out you were taking him in quite nicely. His heart was aching with jealousy that Diluc was so lucky to have you all to himself, but nonetheless, once he fully bottomed out inside of your throat that he had to remove his finger to fit properly, he saw this as an opportunity to enjoy himself and sighed in pleasurable relief.

Kaeya’s hands found their place on both sides of your head as he slowly fucked your throat, wanting to relish in the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him, holding back coughs and tears. It was a painfully delightful contrast to the way Diluc was relentlessly abusing your aching hole from the other side of the counter, letting out his pent up frustrations of the night in the form of deep thrusts and shameless pants. Kaeya couldn’t help but leave quiet moans here and there as well while he slowly pushed himself in and out of your mouth, filling your throat up with his entire length just to pull back with a sigh then do it again.

Eventually, Kaeya became more comfortable with picking up the pace, watching as Diluc’s slammed his hips into yours and yearning for a similar feeling. His hands traveled through your scalp, tangling through your hair messily as he leaned in to fuck into your mouth with more intent. You hummed sweetly as Kaeya finally stopped holding back, giving into the pleasure and matching Diluc’s rough pace. The feeling of the two of them ignoring their feud and instead taking out their frustrations on you made your insides twist and knot together knowing that after so long, your fantasies have come to light – or rather, they came to this dimly lit tavern in the middle of the night.

Diluc was the first to release himself in you, filling your drenched cunt with his seed and controlling his staggering breaths as he fucked you slowly to calm down from his high. It made you needy to hear his low groans in their fullest volume, but you knew that that had to be saved for different circumstances. His fingers that dug into your skin so intensely gently lifted off of you has he wiped the slight sweat off his forehead and simultaneously looked up to watch Kaeya fucking your throat. If he hadn’t been so exhausted from work tonight, he would’ve secretly loved to invite Kaeya for another round, knowing how tightly your cunt wrapped around him the second Kaeya started touching you.

Shortly after, Kaeya finally reached his own release too, letting your nose nestle in his trimmed blue hair as he dumped his cum into your throat unceremoniously. His chest slowly rose and fell with each deep breath he took, trying to control himself as he felt you attempt to swallow his seed while he was still inside you. The feeling drove him crazy and craving for more, but as he averted his gaze from you to look at Diluc on the other side, a wave of regret and jealousy washed over him knowing that this was probably going to leave him off on bad terms with his brother – again.

But much to his dismay, as he slowly pulled out of you, Diluc only laughed. He laughed wholeheartedly as he gently caressed your waist, soothing you while you gasped for air. Kaeya stood there confused on the sudden lightheartedness in the air, tucking himself back into his pants and getting ready to leave as soon as possible, slightly ashamed for indulging in such an impulsive moment of vulnerability for you and Diluc.

“Not so fast,” Diluc spoke the first words after the long period of silence once Kaeya started to pick up his belongings, “You’re forgetting your keys.”

With the help of Diluc, you slowly lifted yourself up to lay on your back, keeping your legs spread and incoherently mewling for more. Diluc only grinned at this, shushing you with a gentle look and caressing your thigh as he briefly saw his cum pooling on the counter. Kaeya nervously glanced at you before entering the bar and walking towards his keys next to Diluc’s foot, grabbing them, then standing back up with an averted gaze. The poor boy was so nervous, but you had to admit he tasted so good.

Diluc placed a reaffirming hand on Kaeya’s shoulder, making Kaeya lift his head and look into his eyes. The two shared a moment of eye contact, communicating a shared sense of apology to each other. Maybe it was bad at first, but regardless of how much they seemed to be at each others throats, they always seemed to make amends in the end.

“Okay, get out,” Diluc bluntly said, which followed with hurried footsteps towards the door and a quick, “Alright, alright, I’m leaving!” from Kaeya. The exchange made you laugh, but once Kaeya was finally gone and Diluc had locked the door behind him, you were beginning to get antsy.

“So,” Diluc trailed his eyes up and down your trembling body still splayed out on the counter, “would you, by chance, ever be interested in doing that again? Just the three of us?”

“I want to so badly,” you breathlessly admitted, replaying the past half hour in your head and letting the memory brand into your mind. “Please, Master?”

He thought about it for a moment then grinned.

“I’ll think about it. As long as you know you belong to me in the end, maybe another round with him wouldn’t be so bad.”

#diluc #diluc x reader #diluc smut #kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeya smut #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #mine #bang #requested

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

5 times Merlin noticed Arthur’s odd reactions to things,

+1 time he could start on the road to helping.

TW: Graphic descriptions of child abuse, claustrophobia, panic attacks/flashbacks/disassociating.

Merlin notices things. He always has done, ever since he was a child. Maybe it was the magic, maybe it was the ingrained fear of being snuck up on (as a Bastard child, as a citizen of Essetir, and as someone with magic) or maybe it was just some odd, innate skill. It doesn’t really matter: Merlin is observant, he has keen eyes, which is why he notices Arthur’s sudden change in disposition.

It was a normal afternoon, Arthur and Merlin had just gotten back from the first hunt of the spring and were filling The King in on how it had gone. Well... Arthur was, Merlin was just sort of stood there.

The servant was annoyed that Arthur had dragged him along, both to the hunt and to the meeting, but The Prince had been so excited (not that he showed it too much) at the prospect of telling his father how well everything went, he conceded easily. It was rare that Arthur got his father’s approval; Merlin had only been serving him for a few months, so maybe it was stupid of him to want to see Arthur happy, but oh well. He may be a prat, but he meant well and he loved his people, he deserved a little happiness occasionally.

Uther was in fact proud, and Merlin had better luck than Arthur at holding his grin in, though that changed quickly.

Arthur was looking out of the window and making casual comments on when he planned on going out next, and Uther, stepping quietly without even realising it, manages to move to the space just behind him without Arthur noticing. He claps a firm, but proud hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and if Merlin hadn’t known that Arthur would deny it later, he would accuse him of jumping a foot in the air. He turns around quickly, eyes wide and barely focusing as Uther gives his son another congratulations, as well as a terse “Make sure you keep it up.”

The sudden tightness in Arthur’s shoulders and his clear discomfort at having Uther so close do not go unnoticed by Merlin and he frowns, making a split second decision that could very well get him put in the stocks:

“Sorry to interrupt, My Lords, but The Prince mentioned wanting to join the evening patrol. Sir Leon and his partner will be leaving shortly.”

Uther whips his head around disapprovingly, and his anger at Merlin for interrupting whatever it was he was about to say translates to a tightened grip on Arthur’s shoulder. The Prince flinches slightly, but carefully steps away from The King, speaking before he can order the servant punished:

“Right you are, Merlin. If you’re happy for me to take my leave, father?”

Uther looks back to his son, confused, but approving of Arthur’s sudden eagerness to join extra patrols:

“Very well. I expect you to keep up the hard work, Arthur, I shall be disappointed if you start slacking again.”

Arthur nods and bows, but doesn’t say anything, his jittery demeanour getting worse with The King’s vaguely threatening tone. He walks stiffly from the room, and Merlin follows with a confused frown, making sure to keep his distance and step loudly on the stone floor; apparently Arthur was feeling jumpy today.

Arthur, still in his armour, leads them down to the courtyard where Sir Leon and another knight were indeed preparing to leave. The Prince doesn’t say anything to Merlin, simply nods in his direction before joining the others, and Merlin thinks he must have done the right thing if Arthur wasn’t shouting at him for giving him extra work that he hadn’t intended to do.

He stores this new, odd information in his mind for future reference, reminding himself to stay away from The Prince’s back and warn him of anyone approaching.

The next thing Merlin notices doesn’t come from a specific incident, more from a series of odd happenings over time.

When Arthur had been released from the dungeons after Merlin’s miraculous survival from being poisoned, he was a mess. At the time, Merlin had smugly suggested that it was because Arthur was worried about him; his hair was similar to a bird’s nest, as if The Prince had been running his hands through it and pulling it on a near constant basis, and the shirt he was wearing frankly stunk of sweat.

Arthur had rolled his eyes at that and slunk off to sulk in his chambers—once Gaius had assured him Merlin would be fine—and the young servant had taken that as confirmation.

The first time Merlin actually witnesses Arthur’s quick, shallow breath and wide panicked eyes, they’re rushing through the narrow servant corridors. The Prince’s grip on his sword looks uncomfortably tight and the sweat on his brow seems a little odd: they weren’t running that fast. Merlin figures that Arthur is just stressed out from trying to catch the sneaky arsehole assassin who was trying to do in as many councilmen as he could before getting away.

Which is an understandable thing to be stressed about.

Merlin only takes actual note of it when, after the assassin had gotten away, The King had demanded Arthur retrace his footsteps back through the castle to see if the criminal had dropped anything or hidden anywhere. Arthur practically freezes up at that, his wide eyes and pale skin making Merlin frown in confusion, only for his frown to deepen when Arthur stutters through his suggestion of having another knight lead the internal search whilst Arthur heads out into the city.

The relief on Arthur’s face when Uther agrees is, though brief and immediately hidden, immense.

Merlin thinks back on the state Arthur had been in after he’d quested for Merlin’s cure. Perhaps... perhaps Arthur had been such a mess because he had spent a night in the dungeons, and not because he had been worried about Merlin.

As much as Arthur might like to think Merlin’s an idiot, the servant makes quick connections, pieces things together easily, like a children’s puzzle. At least when it comes to Arthur.

The servant is also reminded of the way Arthur insists that Merlin leave a few candles lit in the evening. At first, Merlin thought it was because Arthur was sneaking out of bed to get more paperwork done (Uther may rarely see it, but Arthur works ridiculously hard), but he checked the paperwork one morning and nothing had been added or altered. Then he though that it was maybe so Arthur could see any attackers coming in the night, because he was paranoid like that, but the candles always burnt out after a couple hours anyway, so it wasn’t like they were lasting through the night.

Merlin figures he was probably just reading into things too much (plus, he knows that accusing Arthur of being afraid of the dark or tight spaces would get him nothing but a slap up the head and, depending on The Prince’s mood, a visit to the stocks), though Arthur refusing to stay in Merlin’s tiny bedroom for any longer than necessary, and insisting on multiple torches being lit whenever they ventured into caves, forces Merlin to reconsider.

It was after one such adventure in one such cave that Merlin took advantage of the castle’s funds being available to him, and heads down to the market to buy some larger candles (and if he cast a spell to make them last longer... well... no one needed to know). Arthur gives him an odd look when he walks into The Prince’s chambers that evening and begins setting up and lighting them without acknowledgement; Merlin answers his questioning hum without looking at him:

“I know you like to be able to see just in case attackers make it into your chambers: these ones should last all the way until the morning. I set up a standing order with a merchant in the lower town.”

Arthur frowns confusedly, knowing that no one had managed to sneak into his chambers in months; it was definitely odd that Merlin had suddenly decided that this was a good idea. Still, Merlin doesn’t look back at him as he casually moves around the room, lighting the new candles and hoping that Arthur wouldn’t notice him leaving the curtains open by about an inch. He notices, though he doesn’t mention it in his response:

“Hmm. It seems you’re finally putting that brain of yours to use, Merlin.”

Merlin finally turns to look at him, glaring half-heartedly as he sarcastically laughs. Arthur just grins at him, glancing at the strip of moonlight on the floor for only a moment before climbing into his bed, muttering for Merlin to go ahead and get an early night.

From then on, Merlin packs extra torches in his pack when they go adventuring, and if he has room, a candle, in case they end up in an inn. If Arthur notices any of that, or the fact that Merlin always opens the window whenever they’re in the tiny Physician’s chambers for more than five minutes and always keeps him company on the now-rare nights Uther is angry enough to lock Arthur in the dungeons... well... neither of them point it out.

The next odd reaction doesn’t happen until years later.

Of course Merlin keeps noticing Arthur’s aversion to surprise touch (especially from knights and his father) and general dislike of the dark/closed spaces, but dealing with it and adjusting to make things easier just sort of becomes part of their routine, without either of them really realising.

Arthur has been King for a few weeks when it happens. It's warm, too warm for armour, so the roundtable knights are practicing their hand to hand instead of using swords and shields. Arthur usually sits out for these lessons, teaching and observing from the side-lines as opposed to taking part in spars. Merlin had always thought it was odd, but the one and only time he had brought it up, years ago, Arthur had forced him to join in on the lessons. He had a lot of bruises that day.

But today was not a usual day apparently; Arthur joined in. He seemed reluctant at first, like he was unsure if he actually wanted to, but his first weeks as King had been going well and he’d had a successful meeting with some of his Lords the previous day, so he’s in a good mood. He finally caves when Lancelot offers to spar with him; there was something about the gentle man that just makes everyone in his vicinity feel a little more at ease.

The sun was shining, but heavy rain the previous week means the grass was bright and soft; all in all, it was a lovely day, but Merlin’s focus was still on Arthur and the way he and Lance dance around each other. All the knights were holding their strength back a little, the purpose of sparring is rarely to go all out, but practicing form and technique and footwork is always a good idea.

Arthur falls into the rhythm of the spar, dodging and side-stepping and blocking with ease, neither he nor Lance were eager to speed things up in the heat. He was moving automatically, running on instincts and just a little bit of adrenaline, which is probably why he freezes up when confronted with something so terrifyingly familiar.

A glint of sunlight off something metallic caches his eye, and his gaze moves away from the fight for barely a split-second, but when he looks back all he can see is shortly cropped brown hair, a bright red tunic, and a fist swinging for his face.

Lancelot yelps when Arthur doesn’t block like he had expected him to, and Merlin is sprinting over before The King’s head has even finished rocking to the side. The other knights go to crowd closer, worried for their leader, but Merlin waves them off harshly and they keep their distance, trusting him. Lancelot looks horrified, but dutifully steps back as Merlin puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder and uses the other to tilt his chin from side to side.

Merlin’s frown deepens when Arthur just lets himself be manhandled. Even in his worst injuries he was reluctant to let people check him over; Merlin quickly notices his wide eyes staring vacantly and the breathing that was far deeper than it really should be. He tries to get The King to look at him as he speaks lowly, so the others can’t hear him:

“Arthur? You with me?”

Arthur gulps, blinking rapidly and meeting his gaze, though Merlin can tell that he still isn’t really seeing:

“I... I’m sorry, I... I didn’t mean... I wasn’t...”

Merlin can only just hear Arthur’s whispers, and he’s grateful for the fact that the others definitely can’t hear them. He moves the hand on Arthur’s shoulder down to grip the other man’s hand and squeezes, and uses the other to shield his eyes from the sun as he mutters:

“Arthur, it’s Merlin, you’re out on the training field with members of the Roundtable, it’s late Spring, and you were crowned King three weeks ago. Arthur?”

It’s only then that Arthur’s eyes come into focus.

Merlin has never been grateful to have the bones in his hands almost break, and he doubts he’ll ever be grateful for it again. Merlin’s squeezes back, digging his nails in just a little as a subtle “please don’t break my hand”. Arthur loosens his grip and Merlin raises his eyebrow slightly in question; the blonde groans slightly and lifts a shaking hand to rub his eyes:

“What happened?”

Merlin glances at the huddle of knights behind him and gives them a reassuring smile before he looks back to Arthur, speaking so everyone can hear:

“You took quite the well placed hit from Lance, got a mild concussion and lost yourself for a minute. You’ll probably be fine by this evening, but I want to get you in the shade just in case, ok?”

Arthur seems surprised at the explanation, but nods wordlessly, letting Merlin guide him up towards the castle without a fuss. That just worries Merlin more, and he speeds up slightly as he yells over his shoulder:

“Leon’s in charge!”

Leon just chuckles, knowing that Merlin wouldn’t be paying them the slightest bit of attention if Arthur was even close to being seriously injured, but Gwaine just tilts his head and frowns:

“I love the guy but since when does Merlin decide who’s in charge? If he had said Elyan was in charge would we have just... gone with it?”

Leon shoves him playfully and tells him to get back to work, giving Lancelot a comforting pat on the shoulder as they all look away from the servant-King duo.

Merlin doesn’t take Arthur to the physician’s chambers, but goes to The King’s bedchamber instead; Arthur wasn’t actually concussed, but his mind had been elsewhere for a moment, so much so that he hadn’t recognised Merlin and spoke to him as if he were someone else. He sits The King down on the edge of the bed and kneels in front of him, hands on his knees as he frowns:

“Arthur? Still with me, or gone again?”

Arthur takes in a sharp breath, making eye contact with Merlin again as he straightens his back and answers confidently, his voice wavering only slightly:

“Yeah, yes, I’m with you. Sorry, lost in thought. I don’t feel concussed, are you sure?”

Merlin nods and stands up, leaving Arthur on the bed as he moves to open the window and get him a goblet of water:

“Hmm, I lied, I don’t think you are either, you weren’t hit that hard to be honest, but you weren’t really... with it, thought it best to get you away from the others.-”

He turns around the see Arthur tense and angry-looking, though Merlin gets the distinct impression that it’s not aimed at him:

“-You probably just got dazed by the hit, that and you’re overtired, you’ve been staying up late the last few nights. Drink this, maybe have a nap, or at least stay out of the sunlight for a few hours, you’ll definitely be getting a headache at some point soon and I don’t want you to make it worse.”

He hands over the goblet of water, holding it slightly out of Arthur’s reach so the other man has to stand for it. He manages to stand on his own two feet with no issue, and the shaking in his hands is lesser than it was before, though not gone entirely, so Merlin makes a mental list of all the chores that he could finish here, in Arthur’s presence. The King drinks the water absent-mindedly, leaving the goblet on the side table as he mutters:

“Overtired... yeah, probably.”

He wanders towards his desk, collapsing in the seat and staring half-heartedly at the paperwork spread all over the place. Merlin relaxes slightly, deciding that maybe there was a reason Arthur never joined in on hand-to-hand.

Merlin wasn’t fond of Arthur’s current visitor, Lord Algere, but he was pleased to note that Arthur didn’t seem all that fond of him either. He was an old supporter of Uther’s, which meant the occasional snide remark about how Uther would’ve handled certain situations differently, followed by deferential admissions of being “a close friend and advisor to the former King.”.

He was just friendly and kiss-ass enough that he couldn’t be kicked from court, that Arthur still had to be polite to him, but he rubbed pretty much everyone up the wrong way and Merlin couldn’t wait until he left to go back to his estate, thankfully situated on the furthest edge of the Kingdom.

It's the day before he’s due to leave when he says it:

“You remind me of your father a great deal, you know, you’re very similar.”

Arthur freezes up at the so-called compliment, but recovers quickly, giving the Lord a tight smile before excusing himself so he wouldn’t be late for the city border patrol he was undertaking. Normally Merlin didn’t go with him on these patrols, he’d only be gone for a couple hours at most and he was joined by a partner; it gave Merlin time to finish up some chores, but the servant felt the need to be there today.

The King is silent the entire time, which is unusual considering he's riding alongside Sir Leon today, and those two always have something official to talk about. He doesn’t even spare Merlin an annoyed glance when the servant drops his bag and has to dismount to pick it up, only halts and waits for him to catch up again. Though he's sure The King had relaxed slightly at the beginning of the patrol, when Merlin mentioned that he fancied tagging along, and if Merlin weren’t so worried he’d be immensely proud at his apparent ability to put Arthur at ease.

Leon gives Merlin a worried grimace as they ride back into the citadel, but Merlin shakes his head and smiles, his meaning of “I’ll deal with it, I’m sure he’s fine” obvious in the action. The two of them have gotten quite good at silently communicating over the years, God forbid Arthur find out that they were trying to look after him.

They made the journey up to Arthur’s chambers in continued silence, though Merlin really starts to really worry when Arthur just wanders over to the window and stares down into the courtyard. He only does that when he’s feeling particularly pensive. Merlin lays out the work he knows Arthur had wanted to get done this afternoon and perches on the edge of the desk, facing Arthur’s back with his arms crossed:

“Arthur, you alright? You’ve been quiet.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t turn away from the window, staying silent. Merlin purses his lips, but it doesn’t take him long to figure out what he thinks might be wrong. He moves across the room and sits himself down at the dining table, casually starting on the polishing he had left there earlier as he speaks, trying to keep his tone as neutral and absent-minded as possible:

“I’ve no clue what Algere was talking about earlier, he either knows nothing about you, or didn’t know your father nearly as much as he says he did.”

Arthur finally turns from the window, fixing a curious frown on Merlin, who forces himself to keep his gaze down:

“What makes you say that?”

Merlin still doesn’t look up, but knows that he’s on the right track. Arthur has been able to admit, especially recently with his changing opinions on magic, that his father was not a good man, though he still struggles to admit that he wasn’t a good father:

“Well, from what I’ve seen, you look way more like your mother than you do Uther, and you don’t act like him at all, you haven’t picked up on any of his mannerisms or anything.-”

The servant finally looks up at Arthur, his words true but his nonchalance false as he continues with a confused frown:

“-To be honest, I’ve always thought you act more like an odd mix of Leon and Morgana. You’ve definitely got Leon’s sense of chivalry and respect and his knightly traits, but your... how do I say... fiery attitude when it comes to your sense of right and wrong, that’s definitely Morgana. Uther was quick to anger, you’ve got fairly good control of your anger nowadays. Uther was set in his ways and refused to change no matter the consequences, you bend traditions all the time, improve things in ways that Uther would never have dreamed of doing.-”

The servant shrugs and looks back down to his polishing:

“-I just don’t see the similarities, and I certainly know you better than Algere. I’ve a feeling I knew Uther better than Algere as well.”

Arthur hums non-committedly, but sits down at his desk instead of turning back to the window. Merlin feels the tension leave his shoulders, but doesn’t relax fully when he notices Arthur staring at his folded hands instead of working. Apparently it had only partially worked:

“Arthur?”

He doesn’t look up, just shuffles slightly in his eat as he lowly answers:

“Do you think I might... turn out like him? In the end? People say he was kind and gentle when he was young. If... if I ever have children...”

The question goes unasked, but the fear in his voice is palpable, and Merlin has to stop himself from sprinting from the room to burn every painting of Uther he can find. Instead, he puts the armour down on the table softly and stands, making sure to step loudly and clear his throat as he leans against the edge of Arthur’s desk again:

“Arthur, you’re a wonderful King, a wonderful knight, a wonderful man, and I guarantee that one day you’ll be a wonderful father. Don’t stress, you’ve out done your father in every other aspect of your life, I’m sure you’ll continue to do so.”

Arthur looks up at Merlin with a slight frown on his face, though it’s more thoughtful than anything. Merlin holds his gaze with a soft smile for a few moments, content to wait for Arthur to give him some sort of cue; Arthur just rolls his eyes and shoves him from the table, picking up a quill and finally beginning to actually work:

“Try not to insult the former King too much in one sitting, Merlin. And that armour won’t polish itself.”

Merlin just laughs quietly and moves back to the table, understanding and accepting that that was probably the best he was going to get. He makes a mental note to mention Arthur’s similarities to Leon next time the three of them are together; Arthur will be relieved, though he won’t show it, and Leon will be flattered beyond words.

He dares not do it with Morgana. Both of them would be secretly be pleased, though they’d kick up one hell of a fuss trying to deny it.

Thankfully, the two of them are in Arthur’s chambers when it happens.

Merlin’s not entirely sure he could use the “concussion” excuse like he did last time, not with the length of time it lasted.

It’s late, the curtains are drawn—with the traditional inch wide gap allowing a strip of moonlight to fall across the floor and over Arthur’s bed—and Arthur’s special candles have been lit. He’d been made aware of the spell Merlin had cast on them a few months ago, and though he was annoyed that Merlin had put himself at such risk, he hadn’t asked him to remove the spell, which the servant took as a good sign (both that Arthur wasn’t too mad about the magic, and that it had been a good idea).

The King sits at his desk, doing his normal pile of evening paperwork and trying to fit in as much as he can before Merlin snatches it away and manhandles him into bed, Merlin who is generally pottering around the room tidying. Arthur thinks of it more as just... moving the mess around, but he let’s him be; Merlin’s quiet company is much appreciated, especially with all the difficulties Arthur is having with repealing the ban on magic.

The King lets out a deep sigh, sitting back in his chair and tiredly rubbing his eyes. Merlin notices, because of course he does, and wanders over, a concerned frown on his face as he sits in the chair opposite him:

“You alright? Hit a snag?”

Arthur hums but shakes his head, opening his eyes but staying slumped in his seat; Merlin makes plans to get him to bed at some point in the next half candle mark at least:

“Hmm. No, just tired. This whole thing is draining, I wish I could just force them to see sense.”

Merlin knew that the them Arthur speaks of is the council. Currently, The King has about half of them on side, not including Leon, Morgana, and Gaius, but they need a majority by a significant margin before they can move forward, and Arthur refuses to act in any way that isn’t democratic.

Merlin nods, smiling softly at his lap as Arthur closes his eyes again:

“This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-”

At first, Merlin doesn’t notice the way Arthur’s eyes fly open, nor the way he slowly sits up straight, nor the way his shoulders tighten and his skin grows pale and his eyes go vacant.

“-but I think you’re doing great, don’t be too hard on... Arthur? Are you alright?”

Merlin frowns when he finally looks up to see The King sitting ramrod straight and staring into the middle distance, his breathing ragged and his blue eyes glassy and unseeing. He stands slowly, moving around to Arthur’s side to crouch there and wave a hand in front of his face.

He doesn’t react.

Merlin shakes his shoulder slightly, hesitating only momentarily before touching him, but even then, Arthur doesn’t respond. The servant gulps, glancing over his shoulder at the door to make sure it was locked before touching a hand to Arthur’s forehead and muttering a spell; he normally uses this spell to wake up unconscious people, but it has no effect on The King other than sending a slight shiver through his body.

Merlin calls his name a few times, but it expectedly has no effect. He tries to test Arthur’s pain awareness by pinching the underside of his arm, and whilst he flinches away slightly, he doesn’t come to, still stares blankly at the opposite wall. Merlin thinks of calling for the guards and asking for Gaius, but somehow he doesn’t think the elderly physician will be able to help; there was no magic at play here, and he certainly hadn’t been poisoned. In all honestly he just looked a little zoned out, like the time Merlin had lied about the concussion, except it was clearly lasting longer this time.

Merlin frowns but tries his best to keep the panic at bay, it had only been a few minutes now, but other than breathing Arthur hadn’t moved an inch.

The servant takes a deep, relaxing breath, or at least what he hoped would be a relaxing breath. It’s not. He uses magic to slide Arthur’s chair away from the desk slightly, and moves into the space it leaves, shuffling all of the paperwork away and leaning on the edge. Once again, he puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and takes his hand with the other, squeezing slightly.

He waits.

After another ten minutes or so, Arthur’s breathing gets slightly more frantic, and he begins squeezing Merlin’s hand back. Merlin moves closer, crouching in between Arthur’s legs and shaking his shoulder again, but he stops when Arthur begins muttering:

“Didn’t... I... I’m sorry. Not my.... didn’t... didn’t mean to... sorry... disappointment...”

Merlin’s frown deepens at the barely audible whispers, especially when he notices the tears gathering in Arthur’s eyes. He shakes his shoulder again and forces himself to speak, just about managing to keep the waiver from his voice:

“Arthur, there’s no one else here, it’s just you and me, it’s just us, just Arthur and Merlin. It’s the evening in late Autumn, it’s almost time for bed, you sparred with Percival this morning and had a long, annoying council meeting this afternoon. You’re sat at your desk in your chambers with me, no one else.”

Arthur’s eyes come into focus, slowly at first and then all at once. He blinks and stands suddenly, almost tipping his chair backwards in his haste as he reaches a hand to his sword-less hip. Merlin moves back quickly, grimacing as he bumps harshly into the desk. Arthur’s gaze whips around the room desperately, as if searching for a danger that he was certain was there, before his eyes finally land on Merlin. The servant holds his hands out placatingly, not relaxing even as Arthur takes a deep breath and seems to calm down.

The King slumps back in his seat, rubbing the tears from his eyes with shaking hands; Merlin crouches down again, but doesn’t dare touch him, not quite yet:

“Arthur?”

His head whips up, but he relaxes again when he sees Merlin sat in front of him:

“Yes, sorry, I... must of dozed off or something.”

Merlin frowns, but nods one, speaking slowly, his tone low and even:

“Hmm. Must’ve, you looked like you were having a nightmare or something so I woke you. Time for bed, I think.”

For once, Arthur actually agrees with him, not bothering to argue like normal as he stands on shaking legs and heads to where Merlin has neatly laid his sleeping clothes on the bed. Merlin’s concerned gaze follows him, but he doesn’t move too far from the desk, deciding that he and Gaius definitely need to have a chat about... whatever the hell that was.

Half a candle mark later, Arthur is quietly wishing his manservant a good night and dismissing him. He was obviously distracted, Merlin normally can’t be frowning for more than thirty seconds before The King is hounding him about what’s wrong, but thirty minutes pass with not a question from Arthur, and Merlin makes his way to the Physician’s Chambers hoping that Gaius is still awake.

Thankfully, the elderly physician is still pottering around, tidying away various bits and pieces and generally preparing the room for a new day tomorrow. He immediately notices Merlin’s peculiar mood and gestures for the younger man to sit opposite him at the table:

“What’s bothering you, my boy?”

Merlin sits slowly, biting his lip and trying to decide just how honest to be:

“What does it mean if someone... zones out, completely, for extended periods of time?”

Gaius raises an eyebrow:

“I’m going to need a little more than that, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs but nods, shuffling in his seat slightly but responding:

“I was with someone earlier today. We were just chatting whilst we worked and suddenly they just... weren’t there anymore. Stiff, eyes glazed over, ragged breathing. They responded slightly to pain but it didn’t snap them out of it and they just... sat there, utterly blankly, for about twenty minutes. Eventually they started muttering to themselves, but it didn’t make any sense, then they... woke up, I guess, and thought they had fallen asleep. They definitely weren’t asleep, but they weren’t... I don’t know, conscious?”

Gaius frowns but nods, clutching his hands tightly on the table as he explains, his voice grave:

“Hmm. Sounds like an extended disassociation episode. I gather that I’m not to be told who this was?-”

Merlin shakes his head slightly, and though he looks slightly annoyed, Gaius nods and continues:

“-This happens mostly to people who experience something extremely traumatic, though it also happens in victims of extended abuse, especially if the abuse was in childhood, the younger the victim, the worse the reaction. Occasionally it can happen randomly, though it’s mostly triggered by something in their surrounding environment.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, and Gaius would easily hazard a guess at saying he looks angry. He doesn’t point it out though, just waits for his ward to continue:

“What can trigger it? And what other symptoms will child abuse victims display?”

Gaius takes another deep breath, but slowly responds:

“Anything can be a trigger really, something they see or smell or hear, something someone else does or says.-”

(”This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-” pops into Merlin’s head.)

“-As for other symptoms, aversion to touch, occasionally fear of being alone, OR fear of being in another’s presence. Some experience trouble with regulating strong emotions, difficulty in regulating long term relationships, platonic or otherwise, trouble with self-esteem. It varies from person to person, there is no strict list of obvious signs. Might I ask... why?”

Merlin shakes his head and stands, moving towards his bedroom with clenched hands and tight shoulders. Just before he shuts the door behind him, he turns to look at Gaius over his shoulder, brow furrowed and voice low:

“What... what was Uther like? When Arthur was a child?”

Gaius closes his eyes briefly, letting out a weary sigh and trying his best to hold in his grief:

“Strict, extremely difficult to please. He never... he never hit Arthur, not in public anyway, though it wouldn’t surprise me if he was violent privately. As a child, The Prince was terrified of the dark, and the dungeons. I got the impression that Uther forced him down there on more than one occasion. Arthur is... the one your concerned about?”

Gaius knows the answer, but it doesn’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes when Merlin wordlessly nods before shutting the door behind him.

+1)

A few weeks have passed since Merlin had figured it all out.

He didn’t dare bring it up to Arthur, and shuts the conversation down any time Gaius mentions it. The conversation is for Arthur, and Arthur only, and Merlin wasn’t going to force it.

Besides, they’ve been extremely busy with the transitions; The Kingdom was going from anti-magic to pro-magic, and Merlin was going from servant to a member of court. Arthur had tried to force nobility onto him as well as his position as Court Sorcerer, but Merlin had put his foot down at that, insisting that he wouldn’t become some stuck up wealthy arsehole, not even if his life was on the line.

Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, Gwen, and Morgana had grinned at that, Arthur and Lancelot rolled their eyes, Mordred continued to insist on calling him “My Lord” anyway, and Leon had looked marginally affronted as he mumbled something along the lines of “I’m a Lord you know, technically.”.

They aren’t lucky this time around, and it all comes to an explosive head in a quiet, though still habited corridor in the middle of the afternoon.

Afterwards, Merlin absent-mindedly considers the fact that they could’ve been in the courtyard or the throne room or somewhere equally busy, and thanks the Gods for just this little bit of luck; only two servants, one guard, and the... the noble and his son were in the corridor at the time.

Arthur and Merlin are making their way to the council room, preparing themselves for a busy meeting: it was the first since magic was officially legalised, and the first that Merlin (and Gwen, though that was another matter entirely) would officially be sitting in on. Though, in all honesty, pretty much the whole Kingdom knew that Merlin had been advising Arthur privately for years.

Merlin frowns and Arthur stiffens slightly as they spot the noble gripping his young son’s collar and aggressively whispering at him. The boy can’t be more than ten summers old, but the tears in his eyes display his utter terror clearly enough; no child should ever have to be that scared, especially not of their parents. Merlin resigns himself to just magicking the pig’s trousers down when no one was looking his way, but barely a second after he makes that decision the man raises his hand, and slaps the boy across the face.

Everyone in the corridor freezes as the boy cries out, and the noble doesn’t seem to notice the way the guard looks frantically between him and The King, waiting for instruction, or the way the servants and Merlin were staring, horrified. Arthur breaks out of his shocked stupor first, striding towards him with his fist already raised and his eyes blazing:

“How fucking DARE you?!”

His knuckles make violent contact with the man’s mouth, and the spray of blood from a busted lip and loosened teeth is what spurs Merlin into action. He runs forward, scooping the distraught boy up in his arms and quickly handing him over to one of the servants:

“Take him to Gaius, swear that you will not utter a word of this to anyone bar the Court Physician?”

His eyes flash golden as the servants’ both nod, and they rush off in the direction of the Physician’s chambers. Merlin, satisfied that they will be unable to break their promise, turns next to the guard, momentarily ignoring the way Arthur has shoved the bleeding noble against the stone wall:

“Fetch the Lady Morgana and Guinevere and tell them to go to Gaius and the boy, stay with them, swear that you will inform no one bar those three what has happened?”

The guard nods, understanding the magic implicitly as Merlin’s eyes flash gold again. He spares The King and his deserving victim one last glance before running towards Morgana’s chambers.

Merlin turns, finally, to Arthur, almost-but-not-quite recoiling at the tears on his cheeks as he lands another punch to the noble’s jaw. His face is black and blue at this point, and Merlin pulls Arthur back just as he raises his fist again; he thrashes in his grip, but quickly sags as his breathing deepens. The noble falls to the floor, unconscious in all likelihood, and Merlin clicks his fingers, banishing him to the dungeons with nothing but a shower of golden sparks.

Arthur breathes deeply, leaning all of his weight on Merlin as he clamps his un-bruised hand over his mouth, his wide eyes staring intensely at where the boy had been stood moments before. He doesn’t respond to Merlin’s calls, and with another flash of gold, they disappear, reappearing in Arthur’s bed chamber.

Merlin shoots Mordred a quick message over their mental link as he lowers Arthur to the floor, leaning him against the edge of the bed and moving around to be crouched in front of him. The King’s breathing has gotten dangerously deep and dangerously fast, the tears streaming down his face as his hands clench and unclench around nothing. Merlin quickly intertwines their fingers in an effort to stop Arthur hurting himself, but that just freaks the other man out even more as he desperately scrambles to get away from the contact.

Merlin lets go and moves back, eyes wide and desperate as he watches Arthur bring his knees up to his chest, burying his head in his arms and rocking slightly. His cries are muffled, but Merlin can still hear the heart wrenching sound; the Warlock takes a moment to breath before he stealthily moves around the room, lighting candles, locking the door, and shutting the curtains (bar an inch), before moving back to sit beside Arthur, a foot or so of space between them.

After a few minutes of no change, Merlin starts humming. He can’t remember any of the words, but it’s an old lullaby his mum used to sing when he couldn’t sleep, when he was scared of his own magic and his own friends and every shadow that moved in the dark. Arthur’s breathing slows, though he still hiccups occasionally, and Merlin rests his hand on the stone floor between them: an offer, not a demand.

Arthur doesn’t take it, instead shuffling over to lean his head on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin freezes, not daring to put his arm around the other man as he continues to hum; he must’ve circled back and restarted the same song six, seven, eight times before Arthur nuzzles in further and sniffs before muttering:

“You’ve a good voice, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs a gentle laugh, leaning his head on top of Arthur’s softly as he quietly replies:

“Runs in the family, my mother used to sing to me, though I don’t really know any other tunes I’m afraid.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t reply, turning into Merlin’s chest slightly as the Warlock hesitatingly wraps his arms around the other man; he stops being so hesitant when he notices Arthur’s eagerness. Merlin pulls him close, sighing but letting Arthur settle in before he says anything. In the back of his mind, he’s aware of the pain shooting up his spine at being sat on the stone floor for so long, but he decides he doesn’t really care, if this is what Arthur needs.

After a few more minutes, he rubs his cheek into Arthur’s soft hair and speaks, his voice gentle and loving:

“Feeling better?”

Arthur stiffens slightly, but quickly relaxes, nodding into Merlin’s chest and mumbling:

“The boy?”

Merlin smiles at Arthur’s worry:

“Safe. He’s with Gaius, Morgana, and Gwen, under protective guard.”

Arthur nods again, tightening his hold on Merlin’s tunic:

“And his... father?”

“Bloodied up and locked in the dungeons, far away from his son. Mordred let the guards know that he is not to leave under any circumstances, told the council that the meeting had been postponed until further notice, and then went to relieve the guard in the Physician’s chambers.”

The King relaxes, and so does Merlin, though only slightly, he knows that this is where that terrifying conversation has opportunity to rear it’s ugly head:

“Arthur, are we going to talk about this?-”

He rushes to carry on when Arthur’s breath hitches and his hands pull on Merlin’s tunic slightly:

“-You can say no, Arthur. I swear, I will never, ever ask, not if you don’t want me to.”

Arthur doesn’t relax, but he shakes his head, gulping before replying, his voice thick:

“No, it’s fine, I should probably... talk about it, right? Morgana is always on my arse about being less repressed or whatever.-”

Merlin nods, but doesn’t say anything, stroking his fingers through Arthur’s hair rhythmically. Arthur lets out a deep breath, humming contentedly at the gesture and leaning even more into it:

“-My father was... difficult to please. His default was anger, no matter what, and it was... rare, for him to be anything but furious. He never... not in public, and never left marks where anyone could see.-”

Merlin struggles against the urge to hit someone (preferably Uther, though unfortunately he was dead. He supposes Uther’s old supporters would do in a pinch), but he makes do with taking a deep breath:

“-When he was especially furious he would lock me in a storage closet, or the dungeons. He... he would order that all the lights be put out, and all the windows covered, so I couldn’t see. Merlin I couldn’t see anything. I still... I can’t stand the dark, but I’m guess you figured that out?-”

Merlin knows that he’s referring to the candles and the perpetually open curtains and nods, humming in agreement:

“-How pathetic is that? A grown man, a King, afraid of the dark.”

Merlin tightens his grip on Arthur and shakes his head:

“It’s not pathetic, Arthur. It’s an automatic response, a defence mechanism that your brain puts in place to try and protect you from being re-traumatised. To this day, I’m terrified of fire, even though I have no reason to be anymore, even though it can’t hurt me as a Dragon Lord.”

Arthur gulps, but relaxes slightly, though his voice is quiet, almost ashamed as he continues:

“I can’t look at Lancelot’s turned back, I struggle to spar with him as well. He... he doesn’t even look anything like my father, he just... he always wears red and has the same hair as my father when he was younger and they’re the same height. Sometimes I feel like I’m a child again, everything around me just disappears and I’m back in that dungeon, or my father is stood over me screaming. How am I meant to be a good King when I’m scared of my own shadow?”

Merlin sighs, staying silent for a few minutes as he attempts to put an answer together in his mind. Arthur sniffles again, and Merlin is suddenly made aware of the wet patch where Arthur’s head rests on his tunic:

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, as many times as you want: you are a wonderful King. You’ve delivered a Golden Age upon this Kingdom, your friends love you, your people adore you. You’ve never just been a good King, Arthur, you’ve been the best this Kingdom, and this world, has ever seen.”

Arthur loosens his grip again but huffs a quiet laugh against Merlin’s chest, which the Warlock definitely counts as a win:

“Kiss-ass.”

Merlin laughs this time, though he doesn’t stop carding his fingers through Arthur’s hair:

“Nah, when have you ever known me to kiss ass? I speak only the truth, My Lord.”

They both fall silent again, and Arthur pulls away from Merlin’s chest. Merlin drops his arms immediately, not wanting to make the other man uncomfortable, but Arthur just takes one of his hands and goes back to sitting by his side, his head resting on Merlin’s shoulder. The silence is long, but comfortable, and it’s dark outside by the time Arthur speaks again:

“Merlin?-”

The Warlock doesn’t make a sound, but squeezes Arthur’s hand in acknowledgement:

“-I thanked you for all the big stuff: saving my life, and saving the Kingdom, and all that. But I never thanked you for the small stuff. The candles and the endless support and the excuses.”

Merlin frowns slightly in confusion, not that Arthur can see:

“Excuses?”

“You didn’t think I didn’t notice, did you? You started years and years ago. You always seemed to notice when being with... with my father, or the knights, or anyone really, was getting too much, you always had some excuse ready. Sometimes you outright lied, even if it would get you in trouble, just to get me away from people. I don’t know how you knew... no one else ever realised. Saying I had paperwork when I didn’t, or a patrol when I wasn’t scheduled for one, or a concussion just to give me some privacy. Thank you.”

Merlin smiles slightly, squeezing Arthur’s hand again:

“You were too busy looking after everyone else, someone had to look after you. I’m grateful it was me, Arthur, I-”

He pauses and sits up slightly straighter, though it doesn’t jostle Arthur too much. He lifts his head anyway, staring at Merlin in concern with tired eyes:

“Merlin?”

Merlin looks to him suddenly, but smiles:

“Hmm, sorry, just Mordred. Updating me on the kid and asking if you’re alright.-”

Arthur’s cheeks flush slightly, but Merlin’s smile grows as he shakes his head:

“-Don’t worry, no one knows about... this, just that you went berserk when you saw a Noble beating his kid, and punched his teeth out.”

Arthur relaxes and nods, humming thoughtfully as he looks to the floor. He stands up, wobbling only slightly after being curled up in the same position on a cold stone floor for several hours, and Merlin follows him confusedly:

“Do... do you want to go check in on them? The kid’s been asking after you apparently, wants to thank you.-”

Arthur looks conflicted, almost as if he were worrying that he wouldn’t actually be welcomed, so Merlin puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles, waiting until Arthur looks at him before continuing:

“-We can leave it until morning, if you like, but you saved that boy, Arthur, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t move until Merlin wipes his face clean with his sleeve and smooths out his clothes. If he uses a little magic to make the two of them more presentable, then neither of them mention it as they walk purposefully to the door.

Merlin looks to Arthur stood next to him, his hand hovering over the door handle:

“Ready?”

Arthur smiles at him, taking his hand and squeezing it, but not dropping it as he opens the door and steps into the corridor:

“Ready.”

THE END!!!

As angsty as it was, I really enjoyed writing that😅. I couldn’t help myself though, I had to give it a happy ending :D

I hope y’all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! I love y’all!!

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delimeful · 3 years

Text

Snapshot: Release

new WIBAR Snapshot!

warnings: mention of trafficking, PTSD, mentions of funeral rites, catharsis, crying, sad hours

Patton liked to think himself an optimist, but even he could admit that there were some days where things were bad.

He didn’t like to, of course. Gratitude was a virtue in Ampen culture, and he had carried it with him gladly when he first started spacefaring. It was easy, most days, to find something to be grateful for and thank the sea’s tidings.

Most days.

Though it had taken time, Patton had learned to loosen his grip on the idea of the foam edge, the bright side to a bad situation. He still found the cup half-full, of course, but he also knew that sometimes things were hard, and it was okay to be sad about that.

He was still getting to the part where he told others when he was sad, but that was okay! He was working on it, and as Logan always said, growth took time.

A few rotations after Virgil and him were reunited with his best friends, Virgil had one of those days.

It had started innocuously enough. Patton had been sprawled over Virgil’s legs, continuing his not-so-secret agenda to show Roman and Logan exactly what kind of Human Virgil was. Not harmless, certainly, but-- what was the Common word? Disciplined.

They both knew how easily Virgil could hurt him, could hurt any of them. Patton had been there watching while they escaped, when Virgil slammed into aliens much stronger than an Ampen with unforgiving force. There was no question of his capability for violence, when faced with a threat.

But that was just it. Virgil knew he could hurt them, even through simple carelessness, and he worked so hard not to.

It was clear in every movement. How could Patton feel the subtle tremor in Virgil’s hands when he held him, the attentive stillness of his body when Patton perched on him, the careful softness of his fingers carding through feathers, and feel anything but treasured?

Virgil had protected Patton with everything he had, and Patton was going to return the favor however he could. That’s what friends were for, after all.

So, Patton was nestled into the crook of Virgil’s legs, listening intently as he told a story from back home, occasionally piping in with questions or a story of his own.

Logan would have metaphorically killed for the opportunity to even just listen in on these firsthand Deathworlder anecdotes, but Virgil was still avoiding the Ulgorian with skillful determination. It was a little saddening, but Patton knew better than to push.

Everything was still settling down from their last incident; he didn’t want to disrupt the delicate balance again by shoving Virgil out of his comfort zone.

Instead, he just listened, happy to see the little differences that had overcome his friend since they’d finally gotten free of that horrible cell.

This was far from the first time they’d sat around storytelling.

There was little else to do in their cell, and besides, it was one of the fastest ways to share words, telling tales tall and small and only pausing whenever a word didn’t quite translate or their voices went out. Back then, though, Virgil had shared his stories with an almost bittersweet air about him.

It reminded Patton of the way Crav’n held wakes, long stretches of time spent gathered around their pyre, sharing stories, remembering and honoring the deceased in every way they could. It was as though Virgil was giving up those little pieces of himself in advance, for someone to remember after he was gone. As though he was performing his own funerary rites.

His coatfeathers fluffed up sharply at the thought, and he shuddered a few times to try and settle them back into place. That time was past, Virgil was safe, and so it bore no further thought.

Unaware of the way Patton’s attention had strayed, Virgil ran a hand over his back, shifting feathers back into alignment with surprising delicacy for such a large being. Patton trilled lowly in pleased gratitude, wishing wholeheartedly that Roman would stop glaring long enough to notice this aspect of the Mindscape’s newest resident. They could get along so well if they gave each other a chance, he just knew it…

“Hey, Patton?” Virgil asked, shifting from the bright, long vowels of Patton’s native language to the lower register he used for his own home tongue. Patton perked his antennae up to show his friend that he had his undivided attention; Virgil usually only used English when he was asking something he didn’t want anyone else to overhear.

Nobody was nearby to listen, but that didn’t stop Virgil from casting a guilty look over his shoulder when he admitted, “I snuck into the map room yesterday.”

The ‘map room’ must have been referring to the nav room, where they plotted courses. It had a manual pilot control station as well, which was why Roman had been safeguarding it from Virgil as though he thought the Human would suddenly take up space piracy and seize control of their vessel.

Patton certainly didn’t have any problem with trusting Virgil in there, so he didn’t even twitch at the confession, only narrowing his eyes in silent encouragement for his friend to continue.

Just as Patton no longer shied away from bared teeth, Virgil no longer assumed narrowed eyes signified anger or doubt. He had picked up on a fair amount of Ampen body language during the course of their friendship, and so his lips quirked to the side slightly before he took the invitation to explain.

“I just wanted to know where we were, I guess. It was difficult to make sense of the maps-- It’s not like I’ve had a lot of opportunities to check them out on any of the other ships I’ve been on,” he said, and only the way his eyes rolled up slightly told Patton he was mostly-joking, the hesitant way he did sometimes.

Patton knew their time spent with the smugglers was something everyone on the ship would prefer to forget, including them, but things like that changed a person. They couldn’t be denied. If small, slightly-bitter jokes like this one were how Virgil honored that change, Patton could support it.

“I’d be mappalled with their terrible hosting skills, if I were you,” he chimed in, and he couldn’t help the way his feathers’ glow increased at the sight of Virgil’s smile, even muffled behind a hand. “Do you want to learn how to read the maps?”

“Yes,” Virgil answered, unable to conceal the too-quick way he leapt on the opportunity. There was a pause, his face going slightly pink, but Patton didn’t comment, feeling a swell of sympathy in his upper heart. It was hard to remember sometimes, with how adjusted Patton was to the wayfarer lifestyle, that Virgil was immeasurably far from everything he’d ever known.

“I mean, yeah,” he corrected, clearing his throat in a way that Patton had once mistaken for a growl, “but that’s not actually-- I was trying to see if I could recognize anything. Any stars, or-- or planets, y’know?”

He was avoiding eye contact now, staring at a distant point. He hadn’t moved his hand, which meant that Patton could feel the tremble in it when he butted his head into the point of contact. He crooned soothingly, the type of sound a parent would use to soothe a hatchling.

“I, um. Well, I figured if I knew how far it was, I could figure out how much it would cost to make that sort of…,” he fumbled for a word Patton would know, slipping back into Common for a few words, “extra trip. But I couldn’t find anything familiar. So, I... I thought I’d ask. Like I probably should have in the first place.”

Patton waited, but that seemed to be all Virgil could manage. “Ask what?” he prompted gently. “Space is big, but if there’s certain skysights you miss, I’m sure we can get started on finding them! What are you looking for?”

Virgil’s attention dropped down to him and then flitted away again, not a single sign that he’d even heard Patton’s pun. He clenched and unclenched his fists, and then dragged his gaze back to meet Patton’s.

“... Earth?” he managed, in one of the smallest voices Patton had ever heard from him.

Oh.

Patton’s antennae flicked back in dread before he could stop them, and Virgil’s face twitched slightly, making an expression that he’d never seen before. His chin had dimpled, his jaw clenched, tense as though waiting for a blow.

Waiting for Patton to tell him he couldn’t go home.

This wasn’t the first time he’d thought about it, Patton realized. Far from it, it seemed as though Virgil had been cradling this question like an egg surrounded by downy feathers, keeping it tucked away, waiting desperately to be secure enough, safe enough to ask. To try hoping for a future again.

He was so afraid to want, and Patton couldn’t help but whine slightly, because this time, he was right to fear the worst.

They couldn’t go to Earth. Patton knew, because it was the first thing he’d talked to Roman and Logan about, that first day, as soon as Virgil had retired to his new room.

It wasn’t a matter of should or would. They couldn’t, not even if they all agreed to try, not even if they were willing to go directly against the council’s edicts. They didn’t have the equipment to get past the barricade undetected, they didn’t have the knowledge to slip between patrols, they didn’t even have the cloaking capabilities they’d need to land on an uninformed planet. They didn’t have enough funds to try and obtain any of those.

Honestly, they were barely scraping by as it was. Roman and Logan had halted their normal cargo runs to search for him, and their savings had suffered as a result. It was part of the reason they had been taking more jobs, any they could find that wouldn’t put them in the sights of any potential Human-hunters.

He’d done his best to shield Virgil from realizing just how much his presence had changed their routine, but going by the way he thought he’d have to pay them just to get back to a home he never should have been stolen from in the first place, he hadn’t been successful.

Patton glanced to the door with a half-formed desire to go get Logan, who had patiently walked Patton through every possible scenario until it sunk in that they really, truly couldn’t do it.

It wasn’t fair. Patton had chosen this life, and he could still go home, and see his family, and greet the ocean breeze. Virgil hadn’t had a choice in anything, hadn’t had the freedom that spacefaring brought so many, and now he didn’t have the option to return home, either.

“It’s not— I don’t want to leave you,” Virgil forced out, looking a little frantic. “I mean, we’re friends, right?”

He used the Ampen version of the word, the one that translated literally to ‘treasured one’, and could be used by any who had bonded closely, blood or nest-sharing aside. Patton nodded firmly, mouth clamped shut to keep from sobbing.

“Right,” Virgil continued, near-pleading, “so it’s not you, I promise, and I can find a way to pay back my debts, I know Roman wants me gone and Logan wants s-samples, and I can do that. It’s fine, it’s worth it, just… I miss home. So bad. Even the parts I used to hate.”

“I’m sorry,” Patton said in the most honorable way he had, the low, agonized call of I repent and I regret. “If we could— I promise we would, Virgil. It’s not your fault, you have no debts here. You deserve to go home.”

Virgil’s face was miserable to even witness, the way faltering hope had been crushed under the weight of his worst suspicions being confirmed. Patton reached for him automatically, his attempts to comfort his friend coming out as a soft empathetic cry instead, and that wounded sound was all it took for Virgil’s self-control to finally break.

He crumpled all at once, a breezecatcher with its tether cut, crashing to the sand below. The top of his head butted gently against Patton’s side, a mirror of the way Patton so often sought comfort from him, and he began to cry in earnest, as though releasing months of built-up misery.

Disciplined, Patton remembered with a pang of bitter sorrow, and let his Deathworlder finally weep for everything that had been taken from him.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #wibar #wibar snapshots #ws #ts virgil #ts patton #platonic moxiety #writing #my writing #release #angst

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

The Secrets Best Left In The Dark

Batsis x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 4K Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Death

Author's Note: I thrive on angst, so I have no apologies for y'all. Enjoy! -Thorne

They’d never claim their eldest sibling was cowardly. Far from it, she put her life on the line every day, in and out of the suit, defending those she cared for with a strength that they’d never seen in anyone. But while everyone in their family was typically hot-tempered and ready for a beatdown, she was calm and quiet. Always kind, and never letting anger, or any type of other emotion show besides pleasantness. For a while, they merely assumed she was the doormat type, simply on the basis that she never argued with their dad over anything—the whole “It’s my way or the highway” and his way was what she always went with—and that made her seem like an alien surrounded by humans because everyone argued with Bruce. That, and the fact that whenever she got into the rare fight during patrol, she’d never hit anybody. She was trained to take down multiple combatants and not once did she ever punch, hit, or kick a single person.

It was practically abnormal to be in the Batfamily and never lay a hand on a criminal, and yet that was what their sister did. Hardly ever did she use force to get what she wanted, always relying on stealth. Even on the minute cases when she got caught in an infiltration and had to fight her way out, she used electrified gauntlets to subdue them, rarely coming to blows. So, in a sense while everyone in her family was an aggressive fighter, she was a defensive—or perhaps a passive one—and that’s how she acted in life too. Always passive by nature, but always playing the peacekeeper between brothers and between fathers and sons.

They never knew why she was such a way, from the stories that Diana and Clark used to tell, back when it was just their sister and Bruce, she was a whirlwind that got into fights with anything that dared breathe in her direction—apparently, she made her angriest siblings look like mice. But no matter how many times they pried or even asked Bruce (apparently, he didn’t know what changed either—and this was coming from the World’s Greatest Detective), she never talked about it, simply saying that she grew out of always being angry and wanted to be calmer.

They suspected she held a dark secret—but no one could’ve prepared for just how dark and damaging it had been to her all these years.

***

In hindsight, taking a trip into Scarecrow’s lab was a bad idea, but when the offer had come up in the cave from her father, (Y/N) was happy to lend a hand, knowing that with his recent injury, he wouldn’t’ve been able to get out there during the night. It was also amazing, in the twenty-seven years she’d been alive, and in the past nineteen years that she’d been a vigilante, she’d never seen her father take a break—she could count on one hand how many times he had, and even then, he was still working in the cave, so technically it wasn’t a break.

But after tangling with Bane and Croc, he’d broken a few ribs and after repeated complaints and worries from her, his sons, and Alfred, Bruce finally agreed to let his children handle patrol. Which is why when the quadrants of the city were split up between Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian, it left (Y/N) to pick up specific places that Bruce wanted checked out—she warmly agreed to do so. And while she was confident in her abilities to do everything, he asked of her, she should’ve called for backup when it came to infiltrating Scarecrow’s hideout.

***

Another vent went off above her and she ducked, eyes narrowing as she watched the orange fog, appearing blue through her detective mode, drift out. She would’ve sprayed it, but she’d used up all of her explosive gel covering the others. Now she simply had to avoid them and hope that her gas mask filtered properly—so far, it was. A shrill laugh echoed through the speakers above her, and shivers went down her spine.

Anytime now, Batgirl. You will fall too.

She frowned. “I’m not afraid of you, Doctor Crane.” Ducking under another pipe, she added, “I can help you if you’ll let me.”

Help me? Help…ME? You can’t even help YOURSELF!

Scarecrow had always been a talker, much like the majority of the villains they faced, and he was looking for a rise. She came to the end of the corridor where the pipes met a brick wall and she sighed, searching for a way through. A vent covered the top right corner and she pulled out the grapple gun, pointing it at the grate. She pressed the trigger and it latched onto the metal bars; grasping the cord, she yanked as hard as she could, stepping backwards when it fell, hitting the ground with a clang.

(Y/N) heaved herself up into the vent and crawled on her hands and knees, as quietly as she could, twisting and turning through the maze of confined metal. When she came to the end, another grate covered the exit and she pressed her foot against it, pushing until the bolts popped loose and she could slip out.

From the looks of it, if the advanced chemistry equipment were any help, she’d ended up in Scarecrow’s lab. He wasn’t in sight, but that gave her time to look around and see if he’d changed any formulas recently. She raised her wrist and tapped at the blue screen, taking a moment to run a program. When it beeped, (Y/N) sighed in relief and reached up, pulling the gas mask off—the air was clean.

She set the mask down on the counter and put a finger to her ear. “Batman, do you read me?” His voice came through a moment later.

“I read you Batgirl. Loud and clear.”

“I’m in Doctor Crane’s lab,” she said, poking around at the notes he’d scrawled out. “I don’t see anything new. The formulas all look the same.”

“Compounds?”

She frowned and read. “Honestly, it’s a bit hard to decipher. His handwriting is a lot like Red’s when he’s had one too many energy drinks.” A quiet huff came from over the line, telling her that he was amused. “I’ll send you pictures of it and see if you can.” (Y/N) snapped a few photos. “Get ‘em?”

“Just now,” he replied, and she walked over to one of the lit Bunsen burners.

“Looks like he’s got something brewing right now though,” (Y/N) leaned over and peered into it, careful to avoid any steam that was rising.

“Recognize it?”

She paused. “It’s not the usual stuff he’s got. It looks almost golden and—”

All at once the dish exploded and she had just enough time to cover her face from the shattering glass, letting out a gasp as she recoiled.

“Batgirl, what happened?”

(Y/N) coughed and waved a hand, and when her hand appeared double, she breathed out in shock. “Oh no,” she whispered.

“Batgirl, report.” She hurried to the exit of the lab as Scarecrow’s cackle sounded overhead.

“I’ve been hit with a blast of toxin.” Pulling open the door, she fumbled with her utility belt then let out a sigh.

“What’s wrong?”

(Y/N) shook her head and weaved down the corridors, the faster she got to her bike, the faster she could get back to the cave.

“I don’t have any anti-toxin on me.” She pushed against the doors and stumbled out into the cold and rainy night. Her mind was already beginning to fog over as she climbed onto her bike, and she barely had enough focus to keep it steady while she programmed it to auto-drive.

“I’m sending one of the boys to you.”

She grunted and lifted her foot as the bike revved and shot forward. “Don’t. I’ve already programmed the bike to the cave’s coordinates. I’ll be back in less than fifteen minutes.”

“You won’t make it that long.”

(Y/N) groaned as the lights began to flash around her and she saw faces and images passing her. “I just have to…focus.”

Horns blared around her as the bike weaved in and out of cars and she held onto the frame with all the strength she had. His voice started echoing in her ears and she shut her eyes, trying to block it out.

You could’ve saved me.

Another groan escaped her, and she heard, “(Y/N), talk to me.”

She shook her head. “I can’t—I have to—focus now.” But with every passing second, his voice got louder and more insistent.

You let me die. You watched me die.

(Y/N)’s eyes filled with tears and they dripped down her cheeks. I tried to save you. she thought, hoping it would suffice, but she knew it wouldn’t. I tried so hard to. The last thing she remembered was turning onto the street that led to the cave.

***

Bruce was already pushing away from the Batcomputer when the boys arrived back at the cave, Dick and Damian from the Batmobile, and Tim and Jason from their own rides. Knowing that their father wasn’t one to sit around, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to be moving, but with how quick and worried his movements seemed, they knew something was wrong.

Dick pulled the cowl away from his face and asked, “B? What’s wrong?”

Bruce didn’t respond at first, hurrying towards the medical station they had. “Your sister was dosed with fear toxin and she doesn’t have anti-toxin to counteract it.”

Jason, who’d already taken his hood off, was already in the process of putting it back on. “Let one of us take it to her.”

Their father shook his head, rummaging for an antidote. “She’s coming back here.”

“Here?” Tim repeated, striding over. “Fear toxin works within seconds on normal people, minutes for us.” He looked at his brothers. “She won’t have enough time to get back here and not be under the effects.”

Bruce nodded, focusing as he poured a vial of glowing green liquid into the needle gun. “I know.” He looked at Tim. “That’s why I’m getting it ready for her.”

“Father, can we do anything?” Damian questioned, pulling away the domino mask from his eyes.

“Get ready to be on the defensive if she’s offensive,” he replied. “I don’t think she’ll hit anybody, but you never know.”

“She can’t hit that hard. (Y/N) only weighs—” Jason cut off as the rev of an engine cut though the air and they turned to see their eldest sister coming in on a sleek black motorcycle, that was shaking badly.

“(Y/N)!” Dick yelled and the bike suddenly shifted and toppled sideways, throwing her from it. It slid across the cave floor in a hail of sparks, metal, and plastic flying in every direction as (Y/N) rolled too.

They started running towards her, hoping to stop her when her back collided with one of the glass cases that held their suits, and she went limp.

Bruce reached her first, and knelt down, setting the antidote aside to check her first. The way she hit the case and with how hard, it was possible that she could be seriously injured—or worse.

“(Y/N)!” he called, hands coming to pull her away from the case. She whimpered and he let out a sigh—she was still alive. “(Y/N), can you hear me?” he inquired, reaching up to pull the cowl from her face.

Her brothers crowded behind him and they all stared in horror as tears streamed down her cheeks, and blood out of her nose.

“I’m sorry,” she bawled. “I tried to save you.” Bruce looked at her then grabbed the needle gun, bringing it up to her neck.

“Hang on, (Y/N). You’re gonna be okay.”

She grabbed his hand and cried, “I held on as long as I could, but my grip was slipping. I’m sorry I couldn’t hold onto you. I’m sorry I let you go. I let you die. I’m sor—” her sobs cut her off as she curled in on herself, and as if finally snapping out of a trance, Bruce pulled his hand from her grip and pulled the trigger of the gun.

(Y/N) jerked as the needle entered her skin and they watched the neon green liquid in the vial emptied. She fell into whimpers and mumbles of “I’m sorry” before her eyes rolled back and she collapsed in Bruce’s arms.

He stared at her for a second, feeling numb at his daughter’s admissions. Whatever her fear had been, it’d been there a long time, and he had no idea what it was about. Sighing heavily, he drew his eyes to his sons, to Jason.

“Will you take (Y/N) to her bedroom while I get an IV ready?”

Jason nodded and bent down, picking up his unconscious sister. He tucked her head in the crook of his neck and looked at Dick. “Get the doors, yeah?” Dick nodded and hurried ahead of him, while Tim and Damian followed in suit.

Bruce was left alone in a matter of moments, and all he could do was rise to his feet and ready the medical supplies, all the while, thinking back on every night that (Y/N) had gone on patrol in the last nineteen years—and the last time someone died in front of her.

***

Her head felt like an overripe melon ready to burst, and that first moment of cracking her eyes open was the biggest mistake since she told her dad what ‘Thot’ meant. The second she opened them, she shut them once more, inhaling deeply through her nose as the fog started to clear from her mind.

“Queenie, hey, you’re awake,” Jason murmured, and she nodded, blinking a few times before his face came into focus, Dick appearing Tim appearing behind him.

“Go get dad,” Dick said to someone, and she figured it was Damian since neither Jason nor Tim moved.

(Y/N) started shifting, trying to sit up when Dick put his hand on her shoulder, gentle, but firm as he said, “Don’t try to move, Barbie.”

“Where’s dad?” she asked, craning her neck to see.

“Damian’s going to get him sis,” Tim answered, smoothing out the blanket covering her. “Just relax. You took a beating when you came into the cave.”

“I did?” she questioned, eyes widening in shock when they nodded, faces pinched with worry.

The ceiling light turned on just bright enough to give sight and they looked at Bruce who was coming in, Damian following.

“(Y/N),” Dick moved, letting Bruce take his spot, and he took her hand in his, running his thumb over the back of her hand. “You had us all worried.”

She frowned and exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” She gazed between them, and something in their eyes made an emotion she couldn’t describe rise in her chest.

“Why are you all looking at me like that?” (Y/N) met Bruce’s eyes. “What happened?” Before he could answer, she gasped and looked at her brothers. “I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?”

A chorus of hurried, “No’s!” rang out and she sighed in relief, reclining back on the pillows.

“Oh, thank goodness.” She went silent, then started, “But…something did happen, didn’t it?”

Her brothers glanced between themselves then they looked at Bruce who sighed and squeezed her hand, drawing her attention to him.

“What?” she asked and when he said nothing, she repeated, “Dad, what?”

His steel blue eyes met hers and he murmured, “You were apologizing for…letting someone die.”

Whatever had flashed in her eyes that told them she knew exactly what they were talking about was shocking enough because Jason said, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wanna, Queenie.”

(Y/N) fell silent for a full minute and when she spoke again, her voice was quiet and the look in her eyes was far away. “Before Dick came to the manor it was just you and I patrolling Gotham. At eight, I wasn’t really let out of your sight, but one night I had wandered off while you were dealing with Two-Face.” She looked at Bruce. “I found an injured GCPD officer on a bridge. He had been tailing Killer Croc.”

She glanced at Tim. “His name was Grady Richards.”

Tim’s eyes fell to the tablet in his hands, and he tapped at the screen for a few moments, then read, “Hero cop Grady Richards honored after dying in line of duty. He fell off a broken bridge on Miagani Island.”

Bruce’s eyes found hers again. “He didn’t fall, did he?”

(Y/N) felt tears grow in her vision and she shook her head. “No…no he didn’t.” Inhaling deeply, she recounted, “Croc came back and there was no way either of us could’ve taken him, so we ran. And Croc chased us.” She shut her eyes, remembering the night.

***

Fear pulsed through her veins as she sprinted as far away from the overgrown crocodile as she could. The GCPD officer was ahead of her, but he stopped and spun around to see her.

“Hurry!” he yelled, pointing back to the car. “Get to the cruiser!”

She spared a glance over her shoulder, eyes going wide when she saw Killer Croc picking up one of the concrete guards.

“Duck!” was all she heard, and she hit the ground, watching as if in slow motion as it flew overhead, then smashed into the top of the cop’s car, glass and metal shattering under the pressure.

Someone grabbed her by the back of her suit and hauled her up, slinging her behind them, and the back of the GCPD officer’s uniform came into view.

“Start running, Batgirl! And don’t stop!” he yelled, and when he has his sidearm drawn, he looked down at her. “You’ve got as much time as I have bullets.” He turned, opening fire, and she took a moment to stare before scrambling to her feet to start running.

A cry of pain sounded behind her, and against her better judgement, she turned and looked, gaping as Croc’s arm sent the officer flying. He hit the guardrail and collapsed against it and her feet were moving before she could stop them.

The first punch went to the back of Croc’s knee and she knew it had to have hurt her more than it did him because he didn’t even flinch. But when those glowing yellow eyes peered down at her, she knew she was in trouble.

“Looks like I’ve got an appetizer for the night!” he laughed and reached for her, but she ducked and rolled out of his way, standing in front of the wounded GCPD officer, who weakly looked up at her.

“What are you—doing? I told you…to run.”

She couldn’t beat Killer Croc, and she knew it, but she shook her head and stared down the villain before her.

Croc’s attacks were wide and though she was small, she was pushed to her limit rolling and dodging every one. After a few moments, she was practically dead on her feet, huffing as her lungs begged for air. She kept wiping away the rain that splattered against her mask and on a particularly unlucky step, she found herself slipping.

And it was all the opening that Croc needed because he swiped at her and she flew backwards into the officer who’d managed to stand, just barely. Colliding with him tipped his balance and they went over the guardrail, barreling towards the ground.

She reached out as fast as she could and grabbed hold of the metal beam that ran the length of the under bridge, crying out in pain as it pulled the joints and bones. Her other hand gripped the officer’s and she held on tight. Croc leaned over the bridge, apparently not seeing them because his footsteps went off in the opposite direction, leaving them in silence.

Time passed and she wasn’t sure how long, but both her arms were getting tired, and she looked down at the officer.

“Sir?” she called, and he looked up at her. “You have to climb. I’m starting to lose grip.”

He tried to reach up but let out a cry and grabbed his side with his free hand. Pulling his hand away, she saw the crimson dilute with rainwater.

The hand that held the ledge began to cramp and she started hyperventilating. “Please, you need to hurry! I can’t hold on much longer!” Again, he tried, and she looked down at him as her fingers began to shake.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered and let go of his hand, and the last thing she saw until he hit the ground was the sight of his eyes, wide with fear and pleading.

***

“I watched his head explode when he hit the ground,” she said, tears pouring down her cheeks as she stared out the window, watching the rain hit against the glass. “I had to make a choice. Either both of us died or one of us lived.” (Y/N) looked at Bruce. “And I chose my life over his.”

No one could believe their ears at the story she’d told, but suddenly, the self-sacrificing attitude their sister had, the way she’d bend over backwards for anyone, made perfect sense—she did it out of atonement, for a wrong she carried since she was eight years old.

“I pulled myself back up onto the bridge and I ran as far as I could and didn’t look back,” she said. “I kept my mouth shut when the paper ran his story and never told anyone about it.”

(Y/N)’s breath shuddered. “I just pushed it down as far inside me as I could and tried to forget about it.” Her eyes met Bruce and she tearfully stated, “But every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face.”

He leaned forward and took her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly, dark brows furrowed in hurt.

She swallowed thickly and shook her head as she replied, “I killed someone that night. I was terrified about what you would’ve said. About what you would’ve done.” He gazed at her and (Y/N) whispered, “I’m sorry, dad.”

Bruce dropped her gaze and took a deep breath before murmuring, “It was just an accident, (Y/N).”

“I let go of—”

“I would’ve been more upset having to bury my daughter,” he interrupted, and she fell silent, gaping at him. He searched her face and reached up, placing a hand on her cheek. “I understand why you kept this secret, but you should’ve come to me, (Y/N).” Shaking his head, he added, “You didn’t deserve to be buried under this for nineteen years.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her head and Bruce shook his head in response.

“No, I’m sorry.” When she met his eye, he continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t know you were carrying this. Then and now.”

(Y/N) swallowed and rested back against the bed. “I send his widow money on the anniversary of his death. I slip it into the pension she’s given.” She let out a sigh. “It’s the only way I’ve found that I could sleep at night.”

Her eyes drifted to the window and Bruce placed a kiss to her forehead. “Get some sleep, sweetheart.” She nodded and before he left, he said, “And when you feel up for it, we’ll see about setting up a fund in his name.”

She wished it didn’t make her as emotional as it did, but silent tears dripped down her cheeks as the door closed, leaving her and her brothers alone. They gathered on her bed, leaning close to offer their support, and she was thankful for them doing so. And for the first time in nineteen years, when (Y/N) closed her eyes, she didn’t see Grady Richards’ face.

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startanewdream · 3 years

Text

Five Stages of Starflower

Summary: James is oblivious, Lily is mostly okay with her unrequited love and Sirius has a few plans about this situation. For @keepingupwithpotters,@sunshine-marauders, @cellularphoneexplosion and @zephyrcove who all gave me the most Jily prompt of all time (“Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”) and for @magixbeans (“I refuse to stop irritating you until you give me attention.”). Thanks for helping me celebrate this day ❤

Warning only for a few f-words every now and then (Lily curses when she is upset).

Sirius knows it.

Sirius fucking Black knows it.

Lily had been careful ever since last semester when she started to realize the signs of those things. She’d tried to back away, to avoid more contact despite the fact they had exchanged letters through Summer (just normal conversation, talking about what was going on and their families and discussing their friends – it didn’t mean anything), and that they had seen each other (they just happened to be on Diagon Alley on the same day to shopping, which was smarter and safer—and also didn’t mean anything), and Lily had convinced herself that her feelings for him were entirely friendly and would remain so—if only they hadn’t become Heads together.

There was no way her feelings could remain amicable when she was required to stay together with James Potter for hours at a time, alone in the Prefects Room as they worked and planned, their hands brushing against each other sometimes; or when they would run away to share a hot chocolate at the kitchen, enjoying the fact that as Head Boy and Head Girl they could ignore a little more the curfew, and he’d make her laugh and would help her wipe off the chocolate out of the corner of her mouth.

Lily had fancied someone before, and she knew how to identify the signs, as pale as those previous signs seemed when it came to James. Still, she knew what meant the way she would shiver whenever he’d touched her, or how her heart would skip a beat when their eyes met without planning and he would grin deviously at her or how she would sit closer to him than she needed, just to catch a sniff more of that wonderful scent.

She was falling for James Potter and the worst part was that she’d totally missed the timing in which he fancied her back.

Because all those signs she saw in herself were unfortunately absent from him. James had apparently mastered the art of considering her as nothing more than his friend, because when he’d touched the corner of her mouth—and she had blinked to him, she really had, a blink that said we are alone now and you are touching my mouth can you just kiss me?—James had done nothing but smile nicely, friendly, drawing away.

And she absolutely knew he was treating her as just his friend when the very next week he’d asked her if she didn’t mind changing her Friday patrol rounds with Leanne Diggory. Fridays were the day they patrolled together until late in the night. Fridays were the days where they would go to the kitchen and share a drink and talk about life and it was their moment.

‘Sure,' she had said, acting as if she didn’t understand what his request meant for them. ‘Any particular reason?’

James had flushed then, his hand automatically flying to his hair like he did when he was nervous and after a moment he glanced at Leanne across the Prefects Room. Lily had followed the direction of his gaze; Leanne was smiling back at James and Lily understood even more.

‘Well,’ she said then, keeping her voice carefully light even as a crushing weight had taken residence in her chest. ‘It’s a pretty reason.'

She couldn’t fault James for not being interested in her anymore, but she couldn’t also just stop feeling that thing for him, not since there was no way for her to avoid him completely. So she resigned herself to having a platonic crush on James Potter, one that she administered very well until the day of the first Quidditch game of the season.

Lily had been so diligent that none of her friends had noticed her feelings for him—and she knew that because there was no way Mary or Dorcas would keep it silent if they suspected. She had been careful not to gasp when they were on the grounds and James had been dropped at the lake by Sirius, stepping out of the water and taking off his shirt to dry himself (but she had taken that memory to her heart and lost herself in dreams about him); she had not frowned when she saw James leaving his group at the last Hogsmeade trip to go talk with Leanne, flashing that dangerous grin of his to her (but she had punched her pillow in anger lately, wishing James had come to her).

And then there was the first Quidditch match and Gryffindor had won and in the post-game euphoria, Lily had made the tiny mistake of hugging James and keeping that guilty longing smile on her face when they had broken apart.

That’s when her gaze had met Sirius, and he had widened his eyes in surprise, taking in all that her smile meant—by the time Lily had rearranged her face into a normal expression, Sirius was smirking knowingly, that moron.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He knows. Lily knows he knows. Sirius knows Lily knows he knows.

It could be worse if it were any of other James’ friends, she reasons dismayingly. Remus would have come to talk to her and urge her to share her feelings with James; Peter would spill the word to James, unable to keep a secret from him.

But it doesn’t look like any of these other scenarios is really worse as she sees Sirius’ eyes shining with a predatory look, like a wolf that knows it got his prey.

She considers running away. But Lily is no coward, there is no place for her to go permanently and she believes in keeping her enemies closer, if Sirius could be considered as one, at any chance. That’s why she keeps her ground, pretending everything is nice and not at all bothered when she sees James is near the fireplace talking with Leanne Diggory.

It won’t fool Sirius, but Lily can keep her dignity at least.

And remaining alone at the drinks table allows for him to get closer to her, which is important for her to check how much damage she did today.

‘Enjoying the party, Evans?’

Lily nearly sighs. Nearly one year of friendship with the Marauders told her they only call her by the last name when they are in full teasing mode.

James calls her a lot by Evans, though, but it sounds nice and she rather likes it.

‘Same as always. Nice party.'

‘Oh, I thought you’d be feeling… too crowded.' Sirius throws a glance towards the fireplace and Lily doesn’t need to follow the direction of his gaze to know what he is talking about. ‘Maybe you wish you were at one of those Head meetings.'

Lily pretends to be amused. ‘Heads can enjoy parties too.'

‘One of the Heads is certainly enjoying the party if the party is happening back at the throat of Leanne Diggory—’

She can control her eyes enough to not look in their direction to confirm how literal Sirius is being right now, but she cannot stop the grimace on her face fast enough; it is a spasm of hurt and anger and jealousy, and it becomes obvious that Sirius saw all these emotions when his grin just increases.

Well, too late to still save her dignity.

‘Good for him. Now, if you excuse me—’

‘Oh, I don’t,’ he replies gladly. ‘Why, you seem a little green to me, Evans.'

‘It’s my eyes, maybe you didn’t notice their colour before.'

‘Well, I never particularly cared, but I remember a young bloke reciting that your eyes were pure emerald bestowing grace upon that poor bloke’s heart.'

‘Jade,’ she corrects before she can think better of it. ‘He compared them to jades.'

Sirius’ grin is criminal now. At least, it’s making her want to murder him.

‘My, Evans, for someone that threw a hex at him you seem to have memorized his words.'

‘He kneeled to recite that poem to me in the middle of the Common Room, what else could I do?’

‘Snogged him?’ Sirius suggests, arching one eyebrow when Lily shakes her head. ‘Just imagine, if you had snogged him back then, he might not be snogging someone else right now.'

It’s a fair assumption, but this time Lily doesn’t have to disguise any particular emotion. She doesn’t regret not going out with James before; they were far too different back then. He matured a lot since those days when he would ask her out when he would be so infatuated with her that it was annoying mostly…

Unfortunately, in the list of things he changed since growing up, his feelings for her were included.

That makes her frown.

‘He is free to do whatever he wants,’ she says, a safe mid-term.

‘Or whoever he wants.’

She closes her fists, wanting to punch something; most likely Sirius’ face, though she will settle for her pillow too.

‘Are you here for any reason or you just want to piss me, Black?’

‘Mentioning that James’ hands are all over Diggory’s bum would piss you?’

‘Ah, fuck off, Sirius,’ she says, not bothering anymore to pretend anything.

He laughs—a loud carefree sound that seems like a dog’s bark to warn that something is happening; in this case, that Lily Evans is making a fool of herself.

‘I will leave you alone—if you just admit it.’

‘Admit what?’

'Are we really playing this game, Evans? Let's not go through the five stages of Lily Evans' acceptance of her undying love for James Potter, shall we?'

Lily blinks, fighting not to splurge over her drink.

'I have no idea what you are talking about, Sirius.'

'Have it your way then. I just thought you should know, I was kidding. James' tongue is carefully kept inside his mouth.'

And he indicates the fireplace. Lily looks at it now and, sure enough, though James is still talking to Leanne, he is fairly apart from her, hands untouching, in a friendly stance.

When she looks back, Sirius is not there anymore, but wherever he is she knows he is smirking, that prat. Continue reading on AO3 :)

#Jily #Jily Fanfiction #Canon Jily #Sirius Black supports Jily #sirius and lily #this is all self-indulgent #written as a love statement to Sirius and Lily's friendship #And also because Sirius was the original Jily shipper #and he called them Lames no question about it #posted now because somewhere in the pacific is already my birthday #and since I am half-japanese I can post in Japan Time #it is known

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peterpparkerwrites · 2 years

Text

revelations - part six

a/n: currently on hiatus - look at my pinned post for more info! this fic has a lot of parts so I’ll have it scheduled to post twice a day - once at 11:00 AM PST and once at 5:00 PM PST. since I will be gone and can’t update links, if you want to find previous parts, just scroll down my page :) warnings: language, I’m also just not nice LMAO pairing: peter parker x reader word count: 4k

masterlist ~ requests are closed ~ part seven

taglist: @lilbeatlebear @somefuckshit1 @hufflepuffseeker

Peter woke up gasping.

He hadn't had this particular nightmare in a while, but whenever he did, it always shook him to his core. It had been months, over a year even since it happened, but every once in a while he'd be forced to remember it by the haunting nightmares he had.

A soft knock on the door made him jump a little before he saw his aunt peek her head in. She had probably heard him making noise in his sleep like he always did when he had this nightmare.

"Again?" She asked a bit tiredly, worry in her eyes at the sight of Peter sitting up running a hand through his hair, his entire body tense. He nodded as he rubbed his eyes, scooting over so May could sit down next to him.

"I really miss him," he mumbled when she put an arm around his shoulder, tugging him against her side. She sighed, pressing a kiss to his hair.

"I do too," she replied, a sad little smile on her lips, "He'd be so proud of you, Peter."

He couldn't bring himself to reply to that, just trying to control his racing heart and hugging May back. His eyes focused on the faded, barely noticeable tattoo on her wrist.

Any time he saw it, he was reminded of why he couldn't let himself be with you. Why he couldn't let himself be with anyone, not even his soulmate whenever they showed up.

He had enough pain when Ben died. Hell, he still had recurring nightmares about his death (that he still blames himself for). But he knew his hurt was nothing compared to May's. He had seen first hand how she had to pick up the pieces after Ben was taken from them, how she had to keep her pain in and be strong for Peter, even when she wasn't.

Peter could read her like an open book. He knew she was hurting still, and would be for a long time. He knew she wasn't always okay when she said she was. Ben wasn't taken by choice, but Peter willingly threw himself into danger every day.

How could he willingly jeopardize his life, knowing what it would do to his soulmate if he died?

"Get some sleep, honey," May rubbed his shoulder, shooting him another little smile, "You have school in a few hours."

"Yeah," he mumbled, thanking her for checking on him like she always did as she slipped back quietly out of his room.

He knew he wouldn't sleep, though, not after that. Trying not to get blinded when he grabbed his phone and turned it on, he groaned when he saw that it was four in the morning. He barely got enough sleep as it is.

After waiting until he was positive May was asleep, he grabbed his suit and slipped it on, knowing he needed the distraction, even if it would cause him to be so much more tired during the day.

"How's your head?"

"Better," your hand raised to lightly touch your forehead, the cut fading into a barely noticeable scar. "You should consider going into the medical field, Dr. Spider-Man."

He let out a laugh, "Not really my field of interest, but thanks."

The both of you had just started patrol, looking out for anything unusual. It was easy to get back into routine, despite the fact that Spider-Man now knew what you looked like. You were still a little uncomfortable about it, but he acted like it didn't bother him like it clearly had when he first saw you, so it was getting easier.

"You seem tired," you pointed out, giving him a look, "You alright?"

"Just not sleeping well lately," he shrugged, not going into further detail. "I'll be fine, though."

"Don't want you passing out while we take breaks," you teased a little, seeing his mask shifting into a grin.

"Not that tired," he promised, chuckling. "How...how are you doing, though?"

"What do you mean?" You hummed, acting dumb. He wasn't going to let it go that easily, though.

"You know what I mean," he replied softly, crossing his arms. "How are those problems you were having?"

"It's getting better," you said in a truthful tone, not adding anything else. He smiled a bit at that, trying to ignore the feeling of guilt that came with it.

He figured now, that when you were talking about having boy problems the other day, they were actually about him. Another thing he could add to the list of what he should have put together in terms of you being Shadow.

"That's good," he was a little glad to hear you saying it was getting better. He figured that meant you were starting to be open to being close friends with him again, which was all he wanted.

"What about you, though? I shared a little, now it's your turn. What's causing you to lose sleep, Spidey?"

He hesitated, focusing on his feet as the two walked down a quiet sidewalk. It was unfair for him to know most of your secrets now without giving even a little in return, but he was still nervous to tell you anything that might give away who he really was. The guilt forced him to speak, however.

"I-I get nightmares a lot," he swallowed, not meeting your eyes. "Usually they're different, but...sometimes they're the same recurring ones, and they just-they suck. I can never sleep after."

You were quiet for a moment, "I have a friend who gets those, too. I'm sorry."

He sighed, "It's okay, just something I put up with, I guess."

"Have you tried listening to music when you fall asleep?" You suggested, crossing your arms, "It sounds weird but it usually helps me."

His mouth twitched into a bit of a smile at that, remembering when you suggested that to him a few weeks ago after seeing the dark circles under his eyes at school. "I haven't, but I'll try it. Thanks."

"No problemo," you smiled a bit, "Let's get back to patrol and maybe you can go home early tonight and get some sleep."

"Sounds good to me," he grinned, following you back down the street.

"Okay, and who was the thirteenth president?" Peter turned the flashcard over, waiting for your response.

"Millard Fillmore," you responded with ease, trying not to grin too hard when he complimented you on getting another one right.

"Nice. And what was the 3/5th's compromise?"

Walking home with him was getting easier. The first few times you passed the area where you confessed to him it was a little uncomfortable, but you were getting used to ignoring the bit of pain that the memory brought. Now you two studied on the walks home, probably to avoid any weird silence.

Peter didn't seem like he felt awkward around you, and if he did, he didn't act like it. Just as though you were really pretending it never happened, he was normal as ever.

It was a blessing and a curse. You were too embarrassed to ever bring it up, but you knew you wanted to. You were so certain he didn't have feelings for you, he made it clear with the lack or response days ago, but then he would do something to make you question it.

Sometimes his fingers would brush yours when you were walking together, making his cheeks turn red when you sneaked a glance at him. Sometimes he'd be staring at you while you talked with a weird, almost adoring look on his face. Sometimes he'd stutter when you were talking and you'd stare at him too long, and he'd be nervous.

How were supposed to be certain he didn't feel something for you, when he acted like he might?

But obviously he would have said so, if he did. There was no reason for him not to, right? It made no sense to you, so you convinced yourself that you must be making it up in your mind whenever he acted strange around you.

"Hey, wanna go to Delmar's?" His voice dragged you out of your thoughts. "Haven't been there in a while."

"Yeah, sure," you smiled a little, hoping Mr. Delmar wouldn't make any comments like he had in the past, teasing about you two dating. It would be so much more awkward now if he did.

Luckily the little bodega was too packed for him to say much other than "welcome back, my favorite customers!" and take your orders.

Both of you were about to leave the shop after eating when suddenly a scream was heard from outside. The hairs on Peter's arms stood up and you jumped up automatically, already looking to run toward the sound.

For a second, Peter forgot you didn't know he was Spider-Man, and almost let himself tell you to suit up so you two could go figure out what was going on. Luckily before he had the chance to ruin that secret, he was interrupted.

"Get down!" you yelled, shoving him over just as something massive flew through the glass windows of the shop and smashing it to pieces. The dust cleared and he realized it was literally a car. A car that would have hit him directly if you hadn't shoved him out of the way.

"You-you just saved me," he said in a bit of shock as you got off of him quickly.

You tensed, not realizing you had probably just exposed how strong you were considering you shoved him pretty far and partially broke the table you two were at. "Uh, adrenaline rush?"

Another few shouts were heard from outside and you both stood up, trying to think of excuses to leave and suit up without making the other suspicious.

"You should get out of here," you said quickly, backing up to the door with a hand on your backpack, ready to whip your suit out, "I-I can get home faster by myself and besides you live across town so..."

He stared at where the noises were still coming from, seeing things like cars and metal poles being thrown around. You figured he would demand to take you home himself, especially with the craziness of whatever was happening going on outside, but to your surprise he nodded.

"Okay, be safe," he said firmly, his intense gaze making you a little nervous. You nodded, turning and running for the nearest alley to get changed. You didn't know he turned and did the same thing, hoping he'd be quick knowing he'd see you again soon.

You changed quickly and were already running for the sounds when suddenly an arm wrapped around your waist and you were swinging through the air.

"Hey," you said breathlessly, glancing up at your friend in the mask, "You must've been close by."

"You too," he replied, hoping you didn't think more into that comment. He swung another web to get closer to where you could now see a man who was clearly enhanced, that was causing objects to be thrown around. "What's this guy's deal?"

"Seems a little pissed," Spider-Man yanked you both to the side as the man tossed another object, it going over your heads too fast for you to see what it was, "I think he needs to get his hands tied up. Got that, Webs?"

He snorted at that, "Yeah yeah, you go distract him and I'll focus on that."

He landed you both pretty close to the guy but not close enough to get hit. The man was laughing like a maniac as he thrust his hands forward. Objects followed the direction of his hands, flying several hundred feet before crashing into buildings.

"Hey!" You yelled out while Spider-Man jumped away, trying to find a way to get behind the guy without him seeing. "Over here, buddy!"

The man grinned as you stepped closer, "Shadow! Where's your little spider friend?"

"He took a sick day," you tried to say convincingly, putting your hands on your hips. "What's your deal, dude? Trying to cosplay as Syndrome? You know, the Incredibles is a good movie but you don't really need to be out here-"

He interrupted you by waving his hand, causing a street light to rip out of the ground and fly toward you. You ducked and rolled out of the way, wincing when it managed to scraped your leg a bit. This guy was fast on top of the enhanced part, which would make this more difficult.

"Rude," you scoffed as you got up, charging for him.

It was difficult to get near the guy when he kept throwing things in your way, but you hoped you were causing enough of a distraction for Spider-Man.

After a minute of dodging the objects, you grinned when you saw Spider-Man swinging from behind the man. You really thought for a minute that he could get to him.

"Nice try!" The man shouted before throwing his hand out behind him, causing a car to fly and smack Spider-Man out of the air. You winced as he was knocked to the ground, but he rolled back up again with ease.

"Not cool, man," he huffed, shooting a web at the guy's hands and tugging him towards the ground.

Unfortunately, he used his other hand and pointed at you. For some reason you hadn't considered that he could move people with his mind as well as objects.

You were thrown from the fight, landing with a groan against a car, causing a massive dent in the side. "Asshole," you muttered, getting up with a little struggle.

You heard Spider-Man yell out in pain and looked over in time to see him fall over, a long scratch across his back that made your chest hurt just looking at. Suddenly you felt angry, seeing the man laugh and take a step closer to your partner, who wasn't moving.

"Hey dickhead!" You yelled out, feeling your hands almost shaking with how pissed you were.

The man turned and grinned, raising his arms again like he was prepared to throw more objects, but you weren't playing around anymore. If he wanted to toss things around, so would you.

You had never tested your strength before. It was obvious you were strong, but you never tried to see just how strong. But now you were about to.

A red car was parked on the sidewalk a few feet from you, one of the only ones this psycho hadn't managed to get yet. Without hesitation you jogged over to it and placed your hands underneath the sides, taking a breath.

You hoped they had good insurance.

Before you could even register the fact that you had lifted an entire car, you were already throwing it at the man. His face had a bit of shock on it as the car flew at him, and he raised his hands to try and block it, but it was far too late.

The car slammed into him, knocking him and the floating objects down. It was completely silent as you ran toward where Spider-Man was, desperate to make sure he was okay. You barely registered that the police were moving to the car, getting the villain out from underneath and handcuffing him.

Without thinking twice, you lifted Spider-Man and swung his arm over your shoulder, desperate to get him to your apartment so you could stitch him up. The cut from the metal that guy had thrown at him was causing him to bleed out a lot, and you knew he healed fast, but you still needed to fix him.

He wasn't heavy in the slightest to you, but it was still a struggle to get him the few blocks to your place. It took about eight or so minutes with making sure no one saw you both, but you managed to get him to your building.

With a little difficulty you managed to get him into your apartment, thankful that your parents worked until late. You dropped him on your bed with a huff, trying to figure out how to get his suit off without hopefully taking his mask off as well.

Your fingers found the black spider on his chest and you frowned, pressing it. To your surprise the suit loosened and became bigger, easy enough for you to slide down to his hips. Ignoring his bare chest as best you could, your grabbed his shoulders so you could flip him over.

You turned him over to see the scratch and almost choked when you saw his back.

Soulmate tattoos weren't anything new to you. Your parents had matching ones on their ankles, a cute microscope design that you always had admired. Ned had shown you his once; it was of a lightsaber, right on his shoulder. You had seen Michelle's when she wore a dress for the first time - she had a book on the back of her calf. Peter had never shown you his, and you never asked in case it would disappoint you when it didn't match.

Spider-Man's was rather large, covering the middle of his muscled back. You were probably the first person besides his parents and himself to have seen it. The giant cut along the middle of it made the tattoo look a little strange, but you knew right away that it was a circle with several lines inside, crossing over each other.

You knew exactly what it was without thinking much about it. Because you had the same tattoo across the middle of your own back.

With shaking fingers, you traced the edges of the tattoo while your heart was racing. You never thought about what your tattoo was now, but it seemed obvious that it was spider webs. It wasn't a traditional spider web design but now that you thought about it, you knew it was.

Spider-Man was your soulmate, and he was bleeding out on your bed.

Getting yourself together, you grabbed a first aid kit that you kept in your room for situations like this, attempting to clean up his cut as best you could. His suit was ruined - he mentioned Stark made it for him, and you hoped he would fix it for him, too.

Your hands moved carefully over his pale skin, always hesitating over the black ink. It was hard to concentrate on patching him up when all you could think about was the fact that Queen's hero was your soulmate.

The suit ripped more when you had taken it off, and you knew it wouldn't go back on him. With a little hesitation you pulled it off of him, extremely grateful that he was wearing boxers so you weren't stripping him all the way. You two were close but definitely not that close.

You searched around your room until you saw one of Peter's sweatshirts in your closet. A little smile rose on your lips as you grabbed it and saw the science pun written across it, feeling a bit bad for giving it to someone else but knowing Peter probably forgot you had it, anyway.

Being careful not to hurt him, you lifted him up without difficulty and slid the sweatshirt on him, trying not to feel too embarrassed at the fact that he was only wearing boxers. Your hands were still shaking at the fact that this boy in front of you was your soulmate, your other half, and he was knocked out on your bed and you had no idea who he was.

Grabbing a pair of sweatpants that were also Peter's, you slipped those on him as well, knowing Spider-Man would be embarrassed enough that you dressed him but probably even more so if he was just in boxers when he woke up.

You folded up his suit as best as you could leaving it on your side table. Spider-Man didn't look like he'd be waking up any time soon, but he was breathing steadily and you knew he would be fine. His mask still covered his face, and while you considered taking it off, you knew it wouldn't be right. He only took yours off because he had to, but if you did it, it would only be because you were curious. You couldn't break his trust like that.

Plus, you two were soulmates. Maybe...maybe he would reveal himself to you when he woke up.

You frowned a little when you remembered weeks ago how he mentioned he never wanted to meet his soulmate. He didn't go into detail about it at the time, but you hoped he would change his mind. Maybe he would feel differently knowing it was you. You really hoped so, because if he woke up and decided he didn't want you...that would really hurt.

Shaking your head, you chuckled a little. You were being ridiculous. Soulmate discovery stories always included how they immediately fell in love and lived happily ever after. You two had a crazy life, but he was your soulmate. You two were literally made for each other. Surely he would feel that when he found out.

"Y-Shadow?" His voice sounded more muffled than usual, but you shot up as soon as he spoke, going next to him on your bed.

"Hey, you took quite a hit there," you chuckled, but even you could hear the nerves in your tone. You mask was taken off when you were patching him up, so your voice changer wasn't covering the nervousness when you spoke.

"W-What am I wearing?" His hands went to his chest, feeling the soft fabric, before shooting up to his face to feel the mask. "Did you-"

"I left your mask on," you promised, "But I had to take your suit off. I hope Stark won't charge you for fixing it, cause..."

You held up the tattered suit, hearing him wince when he saw it. He sat up on his elbows and took it from you, his fingers moving over the cut.

"Shit," he muttered, putting it back on the table, "Did you get the guy?"

"Yeah, uh, knocked him out with a car," you chuckled a little, still sounding nervous. "The police have him now."

He leaned back, sighing, "Thank you for this."

"Of course, you've done it for me," you smiled a bit, before it dropped. "Um, listen..."

He glanced at you, his mask shifting when he raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"When-when I was cleaning your cut, I saw your soulmate tattoo."

He nodded slowly, urging you to keep going, wondering why you would even bring that up. With a little pause you turned around, lifting your shirt so he could see your tattoo that perfectly matched his.

"I'm your soulmate," you whispered, dropping your shirt and turning around again to face him. The eyes of his mask were blown wide and he was sat up fully now.

The silence made you more nervous. This was just like the pause when Peter had stood there so long ago, standing in silence after you told him you liked him. You had never heard of someone getting rejected by their soulmate - it just wasn't a thing that happened. But you knew in your gut before he even opened his mouth, that it was about to happen to you.

"Shadow," his voice came out softly, his voice strained like he didn't want to say it, "I can't."

You shut your eyes, trying to focus on your next words. This was so much worse than Peter rejecting you. You felt hurt then but this was more physical, a sharp tug in your chest that you doubted anyone who hadn't yet discovered their soulmate would understand. And you knew it wouldn't go away any time soon.

"Why?" Your voice cracked, the sound making Spider-Man flinch a little.

"I-I just can't," he stood up, grabbing his suit, "I'm sorry, I don't-I can't be with you, I have to go, we shouldn't-"

"Spidey, wait-"

"No," he stepped backwards toward your open window, "I can't do this. We shouldn't fight together anymore, we shouldn't-we shouldn't talk anymore, I don't want this. I never wanted this. I'm sorry."

You couldn't find it in yourself to even respond to that as he quickly ducked out your window, tucking his suit under his arm as he shot a web, getting away as quickly as possible. And he took your heart with him.

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