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pinkjoy-cons · 11 months

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It's More Fun When You Can't Read my Mind

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: 𝓚𝓪𝓮𝔂𝓪 𝔁 𝓐𝓷𝔂!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 This is Kaeya x any! reader this is smut but I do not specify body parts, no pronouns, no Y/N. Body neutral: no mention of skin tone, body shape, or defining features. I also use pet names that can be used for any gender. I wanted to try writing something that anyone could read so if I have something that pertains to one body type, let me know and I will fix it :) This fic takes place in a modern setting. Word Count: 1022 Please do NOT repost my fics anywhere or recomend them on TikTok!!! Warnings: Fingering (receiving), lube, implied use of toys, masturbation, degrading nicknames (whore, slut, cum slut), cnc/accidental voyeurism (it’s on accident but you don’t mind it), Kaeya walks in on you ya know. Exaggeration of sexual activity. Semi-edited. Let me know if i miss anything. Minors please don't interact Title taken from this song by Cloudy June.

It all started with you just giving him a spare key to your small apartment. You, at the time, had no other intentions other than giving your friend a free invitation to drop by anytime.

You were Kaeya's "innocent little friend" as he so annoyingly and affectionately called you. Damn, it drove you crazy. Innocent? Please. If only he knew. The things that go on through your mind when he's around. All the dirty thoughts that pass through. Things you wish he'd do to you and you to him.

Many late nights you had fucked yourself with your fingers, dildos, vibrators anything, just imagining how he would tease you for being his very own slutty little thing. And it was that very thought that was getting you through this late night session.

Imaging Kaeya on top of you, one hand two fingers knuckle deep, curling up to hit that spot that feels too good to be real. He would have one nipple in your mouth and have your hands tied to the back of your headboard so you couldn’t touch him. Couldn't drag your nails along the rivets of his abs. Leave little crescent moons in his skin. Pull him into a sloppy kiss and moan into his mouth at how damn good you feel because of him.

He would tease you for sure. You did your best to force your fingers deeper as you continued to let the scene play out in your mind.

He would moan against your nipple and pull off with a pop and a long lick of his tongue just to make you arch into his touch.

"My, what a desperate little thing you are." He would look at you with that sultry blue eye. "Is my little slut ready to come? Huh? Is my baby gonna get off with my fingers alone?"

"Yes Kaeya!" You cried. Fingers moving with a mind of their own and the lube you added earlier making a mess of your thighs.

"Archons, you're pathetic. Are you pathetic? Huh? My pathetic little cum slut who can't get off with me?" You wouldn't answer on purpose. Being a brat was in your nature and you couldn't help but imagine him scolding you, punishing you for not answering.

"I asked you," he would shove his fingers deep as he spoke and you did your best to mimic how you thought it would go, "a question whore." You nearly came; tears falling from your eyes you started to call out his name, begging for him to let you cum.

"I'm your cum slut Kaeya! Only you can make me feel this way." Kaeya would laugh at you, the desperation in your voice would bring a smile to his lips as he moved closer to your ear.

"Then cum for me baby." And you did, hard. As you moved your fingers deeper, faster, your hips moved as well. You spread your legs more to feel that beautiful sting on your inner thigh, imagining that he was forcing you open to get a better view of your sopping hole. You called his name like a mantra and let out moans you hoped one day he would coax out of you himself.

As you came down from your high, you felt disappointed but not guilty oddly enough. Should you? Probably. But in all honesty, it was more embarrassing that you haven't done anything about this feeling you had for him.

"Damn it. Just tell him already." You spoke out loud to no one. Or so you thought.

"That was quite the show." You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard the voice from your bedroom door. You had half a mind to cover yourself up but when you saw who it was you opted for grabbing a pillow to do a half-assed job.

"K-Kaeya! What're you…?"

"You forgot something in my office when you dropped off lunch for me today. But, given what I just walked in on," the look he gave you had the power to make you cum all over again, "a part of me thinks this was all planned."

Even you had to admit it wasn't. "I just came by to be a friend drop something off and maybe take you out for a drink but imagine my surprise," he stalked closer to your bed and leaned forward so you could see the tightness of his jaw and feral gaze, "Imagine my surprise when I came into to your little place to hear you calling out my name." He had one knee on the bed but he stopped abruptly, he had a slight questionable look on his face. "Do you want me to continue?" He asked you before he took this further, making sure you were okay. It made your heart flutter and you breathed out a yes.

"Spread yourself for me. Now." Archons there it was. His commanding voice was even better than what you had imagined. "I won't ask again." In a daze you leaned back and spread your legs for him to get a look at your spent hole soaked with lube. He took off his glove and prodded you gently with his fingers. The cool touch made you arch. In all your fantasies you forgot about the difference in temperature. It was already better than your imagination.

"Such a cute little slut. All this time I thought you were an innocent thing." He looked around your bed at the various toys you had. This session was one of your more active nights. "Turns out I was truly falling for a whore." You gasped at his filthy words as your hole gaped at his teasing fingers.

Finally, he put two fingers in and curled up.

"Fuck!" You grabbed his wrist and he made quick work of keeping your hands above your head as he kept the pressure of his fingers on that one spot. "I hope you don't mind being edged, sweet thing." He leaned into your neck to nibble at your skin, to suck, and lick to make your breath hitch as the sensation. "I want to recreate all those dirty thoughts you had about me."

Maybe one day I'll build this into a full fic for both amab and afab but that is if you guys wanted.

Thank you for reading.

#not my best but eh it's better than nothing????#did you guys like it or should i stick with my day job???#my writing #genshin impact #genshin x reader #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #kaeya x reader smut #kaeya smut #genshin impact smut #kaeya genshin impact #genshin #it's more fun when you cant read my mind #kaeya alberich smut #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x male reader #Kaeya x female reader #Kaeya x amab reader #Kaeya x afab reader

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zoeykallus · 1 year

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Hi! 👋🏻 I loved your bad batch fic with Hunter!

May I request one Hunter x reader please?

Something along the lines of angst and ends in fluff? She does something stupid on a mission or something that she believes risked all of them. She's all sad and angry at herself, nearly in tears. Shes convinced herself everyone is mad and disappointed in her, especially Hunter. Hunter comes and finds her. Hunter asks why she hasn't been talking to him. She says "Idk, you're angry with me ." But he says "I'm definitely not." Then "You should be." Then he comforts her.

I heard an audio like this on tiktok and I just cried 😭 but I know it would work so well for a fic.

Here's a bouquet of flowers 💐

Aloha! 😊

I'm not sure if I got this right, but I did something 😅

Hunter x Fem!Reader - One-Shot - Skipping Stones

Angsty/Comfort/Fluff/Strong Language

____________________

"You had a job! One job and you blew it! The mission is fucked," Crosshair growls. His words cut deep; you're embarrassed enough as it is. You avoid his gaze, unable to meet it. Wrecker growls, "Calm down, Crosshair". Crosshair throws his arms in the air. "The mission is blown, that means we don't get paid". Echo says calmly but sternly, "This kind of thing happens occasionally, to all of us, calm down, give her a break" Tech adjusts his goggles and says, "Unforeseen things happen now and then, no need to get worked up" You are grateful for the intercession of others, but something is unsettling you. Crosshair continues to grumble, but Hunter doesn't say a word, he seems so brooding, it's almost worse than if he had reprimanded you. You search his gaze, but he is lost in thought. You finally withdraw from the others. You don't join dinner, nor do you join the others in general. "Does anyone know where she went?" asks Hunter finally, after not seeing you for hours. Wrecker tells him that he saw you leave the landing site and head for the lake nearby. Hunter sets out to find you and finds you sitting on the shore, watching you throw small stones into the water, watching them make small waves until the surface of the water calms down again.

Your thoughts are racing, playing what happened in your minds eye again and again. Gritting your teeth, feeling the sting of held back tears behind your eyes and the bridge of your nose.

He can sense the restlessness in you. You don't hear Hunter coming, and flinch in fright when he addresses you. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. What are you doing out here by yourself all this time?" he asks, sitting down next to you on the grass by the lake shore. You suppress the sigh that automatically wants to cross your lips. "After I failed so magnificently today, and you didn't even look at me afterward, I thought maybe I should get out of your way." Hunter looks at you from the side, startled. You return his gaze and say, "You have every right to be angry."

He frowns, his expression softening a lot as he answers, "I'm not mad at all, at least not at you. It was unfortunate circumstances that led to this situation, it could have happened to any of us. Yes, I was a bit absent-minded after the mission, because in my mind I was trying to find a way to explain to our client what happened. It had nothing to do with you." "Crosshair doesn't see it that way. Maybe you should be angry." Hunter snorts and laughs softly, "Since when do you give a womp rat's ass about what Crosshair says? Didn't you say the other day that when our Sniper opens his mouth, all that comes out is sarcasm and venom?" You roll your eyes. "I'm just saying that to tease him, actually he and I get along fine. But today he was really pissed, and I can't even blame him." Hunter moves closer, gently puts an arm around you and kisses your temple. "He'll calm down. None of us are really mad at you, and certainly not me, sweetheart. Like I said, this could have happened to any of us, don't worry, love." He rummages through the rocks on the shore beside him, picks one up and says, "And now I'll show you how to do it right"

You blink, surprised about the sudden change of topic. Deftly, Hunter takes a swing and skips the flat stone over the surface of the water, at least five times. "How do you do that?" you ask, surprised. He grins at you, stands up and helps you to your feet as well.

"I'll show you if you promise to stop pouting and come back to the shuttle with me afterward". You look at him, hesitant, as he holds your gaze with his, testing and hoping. "I don't know..." Hunter kisses your cheek and whispers, "Come on, sweetie, do me this favor." With a sigh and a lopsided smile, you finally give in. Hunter grins with satisfaction. He picks up a flat stone and places it in your hand. "First of all, the stone needs to be as flat as possible". Hunter shows you the angle and posture, guiding your hand and arm. But you drop the stone back into the grass and lean into his arms. Hunter laughs softly, "You seem unfocused to me" and wraps his arms around you, kissing your neck. The touch of his warm lips, tingles under your skin. You sigh in relief, just enjoying his closeness and the warmth of his body against yours. "Are you okay again?" he asks gently, leaning his cheek against yours. "I'm fine" "Are you sure?" You smile and say, "Pretty sure".

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

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@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

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@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

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@starwarsnerd111

@bandnerdlevel43

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qphiltits · 2 months

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Since @inkredi got their wisdom teeth out I felt they needed something to speed along their recovery <3 please enjoy this phil/enderking for you inky

I have no idea how long it is because i write it here on tumblr ahdkdjd also unedited because I'm tired I'm so sorry

See my other phil and Enderking drabble here!

Contains: bondage, cage, overstimulation, cnc (kinda?), micro/macro if you squint for 2 seconds and mentiones of cervix penetration <3

"I think at this point, I really should just keep you."

The King's voice was a low hum as he looked into the gilded cage, eyeing his pet with obvious interest in his strange purple eyes.

"Just look at you. Squirming around. You would be lost without me."

Phil was on his back, arms tied behind him and calves tied to his thighs, forcing them apart. He truly was a magnificent sight, covered in sweat and moaning stupidly as he squirmed on the floor. There was a mess of slick between his legs, spurred on by the unrelenting vibrator stuck to his clit.

He hardly registered the cage door squeaking open, or the large hand moving towards him, so lost in pleasure and overstimulation.

The Ender King delighted in his crows surprised gasp as he played with his chest.

"Such a little slut you are." He chuckled, low in his throat. "I bet you just want to be filled, hm? So much toying and for what? You know your purpose, don't you."

He watched with a teary eyed gaze as the finger retreated, and the King's size shrunk. He was still nearly double Phil's height, but much more reasonable compared to his full God size.

Phil nodded as he arched his back, pressing up against the finger toying with him. "Yes! Gods- yes m'just your stupid slut-"

When the King removed the vibrator, it was like a puppet had been cut from its strings. Phil's body went limp aside from his legs twitching in overstimulation.

Phil took deep breaths, dizzy from however long he'd been stuck in here, endlessly cumming. It was during one of these deep breaths, with his mouth open, he found his breath cut short.

The Ender King didn't waste any time, he simply shoved his too large cock down Phil's throat.

Phil's eyes widened and he looked up at the King through his lashes, pleading silently for rest, but he knew that wouldn't happen. Unless he safe worded, the King could do whatever he pleased.

He loved it.

"My precious crow." The King cooed, rocking his hips back and forth, slowly pushing more and more past Phil's lips and down his throat. "You don't disappoint me."

More tears welled in Phil's eyes as the cock pressed further back into his throat, making him gag. Everything about the Ender King was too big, but that didn't stop him from using Phil like his play thing.

Even as he started slowly fucking his throat, he pet Phil's hair like he was something precious.

Just when Phil felt he might pass out from lack of oxygen, the King pulled his head off. He gasped for breath desperately, his jaw sore.

The world spun as the Ender King lifted him, placing Phil in his lap. With his legs still bound apart, he was positioned right over his enormous cock, purple and ridged, dripping with a strange glowing liquid.

"Wait- wait I can't-" Phil begged, squirming in his grasp. "It's too big!"

The King just laughed, and let Phil go.

A sob rang out as gravity took over, impaling Phil on the King's cock all in one go. He could feel every ridge, feel the pointed tip bullying it's way past his cervix and into his womb.

He was speechless, making mindless babbling sounds.

The King hushed him, kissing him lovingly and petting his hair as he began to raise Phil back up by holding his hips before dropping him back down.

The pain on the edge of the immense pleasure he felt was so perfect, he couldn't describe it if he tried. He swore he could feel the massive cock in his stomach, and when he looked down there was an obvious bulge.

Every movement was perfection, the ribbing of his cock causing continuous stimulation to his g-spot, even when he wasn't looking for it, the tip pressing into his cervis.

Phil sobbed as he came, his hole growing tighter around the King's cock.

"Greedy bird, you're practically sucking me in." The King growled.

With Phil obviously spent, he decided to chase his own release, uncaring how overstimulated his pet was. He was his, after all.

He pressed Phil onto the floor and held his hips roughly as he pounded into him, taking immense pleasure as he watched how his body molded itself to his cock, like it was welcoming him.

Phil couldn't stop moaning and whining, writhing in the floor as his brain turned into static. He didn't think he could come again, but his body was burning on the edge-

He screamed, throat going raw as cum flooded his abused cunt and spilled into his waiting womb, just like the King wanted.

The King pulled away after a moment, watching Phil's hole flutter with immense satisfaction.

"I'll be back soon, birdy." He slipped the vibrator back onto Phil's clit before exiting the cage, relishing in the shouting he heard from behind him. He was already looking forward to breeding his pet again.

#🪽.drabbles #🐦‍⬛/🔮#I feel like this is bad honestly because I'm so tired but I really wanted to write something for inky sooooo #I hope you guys enjoy

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duchess-kyuupid · 1 year

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hi there

can you write idia’s reaction to his fem or gn s/o singing “good riddance” from Hades (the video game) pls? this song and idia both live rent free in my head rn lmao

have a nice day 😸

OMG You literally made my day with this ask, darling <333 I love Hades, and the first time I heard Eurydice singing it I was nearly brought to tears ToT Of course, I'll be more than happy to fulfill your request, and I hope that you enjoy!! For anyone who hasn't played Hades or just wants to listen to the song anon is referring to, here it is! (The audio comes out too loud for me, so I'd recommend lowering your volume a touch just in case! When I was testing it, the sound was just blaring into my ears and I don't know how to make it quieter;;)

~~~

~Idia Hears Fem! Reader Singing~

[Tw: Soft angst to comfort] *Don't need to know/play Hades to read*

To say that today has been a bad day for Idia Shroud would be an understatement. It's been one thing after another, each terrible thing piling up on his shoulders heavier than the last. They say that when it rains, it pours- and Idia feels that this statement could not be closer to the truth. He feels exhausted just thinking about how long this day has been, and it's barely even 3 pm! But he's had enough social interaction in all of today to make up for a lifetime of self-isolation. He's tired, his battery has run out- there's no chance that anyone's going to be seeing him leaving his room at least for the next week, and even when he does leave it'll be with his floating tablet.

At last he makes it back to his room, but he's far too tired to do anything but to crawl into his bed and lie there, doing nothing but hope to start feeling better. He doesn't want to see anyone, doesn't want to hear anyone, he just wants some peace and quiet, away from everything that's making him anxious. But apparently he can't even have that, as a sudden knock on his door pulls him away from his sulking. "Big brother, big brother! I have something to show you!" Ortho says excitedly, "I know you'll just love it! Can I come in?"

'I can't have Ortho seeing me like this,' Idia thinks, 'I'm just a useless Housewarden who can't do anything... Ortho doesn't need to see his brother being so cowardly, so utterly worthless that it'd be better if I'd just go back home to the underworld and never see this place again...'

"If you don't wanna open the door, I'll just play it for you from out here!" Ortho exclaims, and suddenly Idia is pulled from his gloomy thoughts when he hears a golden tune ring out from behind the door.

'Farewell, to all the earthly remains,' wait, Idia knows that voice... 'No burdens, No further debts to be paid,' that's the voice of the one person who could make his day even slightly better.

'Atlas, Can rest his weary bones, The weight of the world, All falls away, In time,' That's right, it's you. You're singing. To him.

'Goodbye, To all the plans that we made,' Wait, are you actually outside of the door with Ortho? You're actually here? To see him?

'No contracts, I’m free to do as I may,' Idia heard your voice continue to sing, to ring out beautifully as if your voice was weaving gold through a spindle.

And he couldn't take it any longer. He wanted to hear your singing, not through the door of his room, but right next to him, and he wanted to hold you and have all of his worries from today melt away with you in his arms. He rushes out of his bed and opens the door, his eyes glimmering with hope of seeing you behind it, only for the small smile that was invisibly growing on his face to extinguish when he realizes that Ortho was the only one there.

Ah, and now he feels even worse. His disappointment was so apparent, he didn't even try to hide it when his eyes met Ortho's big, bright, and innocent ones. He felt bad that he was so disappointed that it was his baby brother, because don't get him wrong, he absolutely adores Ortho, it's just-

It's just that today's been really long. He already felt shitty enough. But he should have known that you weren't going to actually be there, after all you were travelling outside of the college for once to see the world of Twisted Wonderland. You had told him before you left that you were going to be gone for a while, which makes him even more miserable, knowing that he won't be able to be with you when he's already so stressed out.

But is it really so bad that he had even a glimmer of hope? The hope that maybe, just maybe, you had decided to come back early and surprise him with a visit?

"There you are, big brother!" Ortho says, unaffected by Idia's visible disappointment in seeing him, "I know that you've been missing miss (Name) a lot recently, so I've got this recording of her singing for you!"

"U-uhm, thank you, Ortho...Where did you even get this recording from?" Idia asks timidly.

"I came across her one day when she was singing on her own in the woods! So I used the recording feature you installed in my programming so that I could show it to you," Ortho states, and even though his mouth was covered, you could basically hear his radiating smile. Idia smiles softly and his eyes soften as he replies,

"Thanks Ortho, would you mind sending me the file? I wanna listen to it through my headphones for a while."

"Of course, big brother! I've already sent it to your phone." Ortho 'smiles' brightly as Idia thanks him and closes the door. And without a second thought, Idia pulls up his phone, finds the recording file and starts to play it through his headphones, drowning out the rests of the world in preference to the sound of your voice.

'No hunger, No sleep except to dream, Mild and warm, Safe from all harm, Calm....' As you sing these lyrics in particular, Idia feels pounds of his anxiety and stress wash off of him in waves. As if your voice itself was a spell, Idia was in a trance. And he feels mild, and warm...He feels safe from all harm...and calm.

'Good riddance, To all the thieves, To all the fools that stifled me, They’ve come and gone, And passed me by, Good riddance, To all...' 'Farewell To all the earthly remains...' 'No burdens No further debts to be paid,'

'Atlas, Can rest his weary bones, The weight of the world, All falls away, In time...' And by the time your lovely song is over, he's already manually repeating the recording. It looked like there was probably an extra two or three minutes of empty sound at the end of the recording, and Idia wanted- no, needed to hear your voice right now, he didn't want to wait like 3 minutes before the song automatically looped, after all he could have listened to your whole song again in that timeframe!

It came to no surprise to him that he accidentally fell asleep listening to you sing. Again, it's been a really, really, long day, and just,, being able to listen to you like this was just what he needed to begin to relax and calm down.

What did come to him as a surprise though, was when he woke up early the next morning and your song was still playing through his headphones. And he felt good, he never knew that this is how feeling truly rested feels like. So as he's lounging on his bed, staring at his ceiling as your song continues to ring through his head like silk, and he figures that he'd listen to the rest of your song one last time, and then he'd get up and get something to eat, or perhaps he'd go take a shower or something.

So the song ends, and he's left with the empty sound at the end of the recording. He sighs and stretches out languidly, and then he starts to move to take off the headphones before he's surprised to hear a startled gasp, followed by the sound of you talking.

"Ortho! Geez, you nearly gave me a heart attack there! How long have you been there for?" "Sorry miss (Name)! I heard you singing and I wanted to come and listen!" "My singing? Oh, it's not that good, really." "I disagree! I heard your whole song, your voice is so pretty!" "Why thank you."

Idia hears you chuckle breathlessly. 'Your laugh is beautiful' he thinks.

"Actually miss (Name), do you mind if I keep your song as a recording? I'm sure that big brother would be ecstatic to hear you sing!" "I don't mind. As a matter of fact, I was thinking of him when I was singing it anyway, so it would be nice if you did show it to him. I don't know if I'd be able to sing it in front of him perfectly like that without knowing what his reaction would be.. Oh, but are you going to keep this conversation in?" "Don't worry, I'm not going to!" "Actually, do you think you can leave this in? I wanna leave a message for him, if you don't mind." "Okay, sure thing! I'll make sure that he listens to it."

He hears you walk closer to Ortho, and he's holding his breath as if he wouldn't be able to hear your message if he took even a single breath of air. But what you say, though, knocks the wind right out of him, because he realizes that he's been asleep listening to you talking to his beloved younger brother (and he's so, so happy that you care for Ortho as if he was your own brother too), and that he's been asleep listening to you say these last few words saved for the very end of the recording.

"Idia, I love you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

LITERALLY this was so cute to write TwT I think this might be my favorite so far.... Eurydice is my comfort character ngl and I spent like this whole morning listening to her sing (even singing along myself to get a feel for what kinds of emotions she's trying to convey) and just generally I had so, so much fun with this prompt. Thank you anon for the request, and I hope that you all enjoyed reading!

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impala1967dwinchester · 1 year

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Dean Winchester- A Promise

Pairing: Dean Winchester x PlatonicFem!Reader

Pov: Dean Winchester

Warnings: Fluff, Angst-ish, Yelling, Cursing, 18+

Summary: When Mary Winchester ruins her relationship with both Dean and Sam. Y/n only wants to help, so she sets something special up for Dean.

A/n- Firefly-graphics for dividers; this is a request from anon.

WC- 1.0k

Dean W. Master List // Main Master List // Requests Master List

Listening to my mother come up with some bullshit excuse was more than I needed in my life at this point. She claims she's not blind to the way the Brits work, but I think that's bullshit. We both think it's bullshit.

Sam had been taken and tortured by these guys, and all the other bullshit they had dragged us into. She was less than understanding of the fake people she was working with. Sam is more than disappointed; he never grew up with Mom. I did, but it's not like four years can make a real change. Mary wasn't the same person I knew so long ago.

"When did you start working for them?" Sam asks he looks so sad, but I can't throw my own anger to support him right now. We had been around a lot of liars, we are liars ourselves. "Since the lake house, it was their case." I stand there dumbfounded that we were somehow having this conversation standing in the bunker.

"You kept that from us." I relive the whole moment, Cass had almost died. Her words just started to mold together. her bullshit lies. A hunter had died, and all for what a better way of doing things. I could never believe that my mother was that type of person. The person who puts herself before others.

"Our whole lives you've been gone. You said that you needed time. No, you said you needed space, so we gave you your space. No, you needed space from us." She stares at me and my younger brother, and I can feel another set of eyes on me. Y/n, a girl we found over eight years ago. She was a young adult, but to me, she was my daughter a daughter that I don't think I'd ever want to walk away from especially not how my mother just did.

"I'm your mother, but I am not just a mom, and you are not a child" My heart nearly jumps out of my chest as I hear the words hit my ears. Not a child, I never got the chance. "I was never a child, so between us and them." Mary desperately tries to back the situation out of the corner it's been driving itself into. "It's not like that Dean." I swallow the words that want to come up, and look over at Sam, "Yeah it is Mary, and you made your choice so there's the door."

I at this point end up just walking away, my heart is broken and the tears burning at the edges of my eyes are hurting more than the anger I'm pushing further down in my chest. My daughter watches as I brush past her and into my room. Slamming the door, that's when the true and real emotion comes falling out of me. The tears fall and the way I just can't catch my breath.

I had just gotten her back, Sam had just started learning about his mother from his mother. All for Mary to go and fuck it all up because she wasn't honest because she lied to both of us. It's hours before I leave my room.

A knock on my door is what had me dragging my ass out of my room. the tears had stopped only a few hours ago, and the only thing that sat in my chest was the burning, boiling anger. I open the door, and there's my daughter Y/n standing with hopeful and sad eyes. "Dean, do you want to maybe come and watch a few movies with me?" She asks her voice cherry and trying.

As much as I would have loved to go out and watch a few western movies with her I just couldn't bare the thought of yelling or screaming at her all because of Mary. Or even worse bumping into her because she hasn't left yet. When I had haven't answered Y/n continued, "I even invited Sam, he's waiting for us." She tires, "Honey, I'm really not in the mood right now, so…" She nods like my anger is something she's used to having to work around.

It burns me, but she smiles, leans in, and kisses my cheek, "That's alright, Dad, you know where we are." With that Y/n is walking away and I shut the door. The way my heart burns in my chest. My daughter and younger brother were trying to get over the yelling and how Mary had burned everyone here in the bunker.

I stare at the shut door, and then at the picture of Mary and I when I was young. I pull out a book, a diary of sorts. I write down everything that happened. All the emotions I wanted to push deep down, all the things that went wrong, and all the things that could have gone right.

My wrist hurts when I smell popcorn being popped in the kitchen. The laughter that's filling the cold and silent bunker. I close the diary and poke my head out of my bedroom door. The laughter grows and it's a mixture of Sams and Y/ns. I can't help but be drawn in by it. I poke my head into my man cave. The lights are all off, the only light coming from the TV. An old western is playing on the screen, and all my favorite treats are on the table in front of the old couch. "Dean?" I hear Sam question, looking away from the TV, "Yeah, it's me." Y/n's eyes light up and she turns a massive smile on her face, she pats the open spot between her and Sam.

"Come sit here and we can restart the movie." She says with cheer in her voice. I can't help but smile in return, "alright" I move quickly, Sam and Y/n are smiling widely up at me. "What made you come out?" Sam whispered, I dig my hand into the bowl of popcorn, "The food Sammy boy." He rolls his eyes, while Y/n curls up into my side. "It will be okay Dad, I promise," Y/n mutters as the movie restarts. I lean down and kiss her forehead, "I hope so honey."

Completed on: 05/08/2023

Posted on: 05/08/2023

Deanie Beanie Girl- @kazsrm67 @deanswaywardgirl @ijustlearnedtolove-beep-bop-boop @mrspeacem1nusone @dilfloverr @akshi8278 @fofisstilinski @band--psycho @doctorlilo @wonderfulworldofwinchester @flamencodiva @samsgirl93 @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27 @fanfic-n-tabulous @silverose365 @winchestersbitch-dm @alexxavicry @gabrielasilva1510

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lussiane333 · 1 year

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Unspoken Desire

Bo Sinclair x female reader (he's an ass)

Vincent Sinclair x female reader

Vinny boy not so innocent (and he talks)

Angst, smut, cheating :P

You lived with the Sinclair brothers for some time now.

You knew Bo was interested in you from the very first second you two spent together. He was never ashamed to tell you or show you.. You two never really got official at first. It was just messing around, some kissing when he pushed you against a wall, grinding on him when he sat you on his lap leading into nights of passion.. Eventually, you got close together and long midnight talks revealed the complicated character of Bo. While there was fondness between you two, most of the time your days together ended one way, arguing. You loved him, yes he wasn't the best man, but you cared for him deeply. There was something that couldn't tear you apart, always pulling you into him more and more.

Bo was handsome that's for sure, his charming aura brightened the day. He could be nice and funny when he wanted, but usually he was blunt and rude. Not only to you.

You weren't in close relationship with his twin. Atleast not the first weeks. But then and now, you found yourself by Vincent's side whenever Bo was in one of his moods, when Bo was out of town because of something, and when you just wanted to talk. You told Vincent many, many things. He listened, sometimes he answered, gave you his opinion. He cared about you, he trusted you and even showed you his face, you were part of the family now. He cared a lot.. Something you didn't feel that much from Bo. He always called you nicknames, told you how sexy you are, but it's been almost a year and you never heard those three words out of his mouth. Whenever you told Bo you love him, he smiled to himself but never told anything back. It seemed like he was thinking about, if he actually feels the same. You two had many deep and personal convesations together, but you always felt like Bo isn't fully honest with you. And it bothered you..

Today wasn't very different. It started with Bo coming home late, little drunk.

You had cooked dinner, set up the table nicely, poured some wine. You just wanted to spend some time with your boyfriend.. Because when was the last time that the two of you had sat in such peace together? You can't remember. You heard Bo coming home and just from the noise he was making, you knew it will be one of those nights. Bo had many unresolved problems and issues, and alcohol seemed to be his therapist and best friend in one. Whenever you brought up his behavior, and asked him if he wants to talk about what he feels, he snapped and got all defensive.

"What the fuck are ya playin at" "No i don't fuckin' wanna talk" "I don't know what you're talkin bout just shut up" "Take that stupid advice of yours and go bother someone else i ain't got time for this"

"Where the hell have you been?!" You yelled at him.

He could hear the disappointment in your voice, but he decided to add more gasoline into the fire instead of trying to make things right.

"You haven’t seen me for the whole day and the first thing you're gonna do is yell at me?" Bo stumbled backwards, leaning against the front door.

"I told you this morning! Don't be late, i want to spend some time together!"

He just rolled his eyes at you.

"Why the fuck are you drunk again?"

"Like i'm gonna confess to ya" Bo scoffed to himself. "You know what, end this interrogation and let's just go fuckin eat"

"What happend to us Bo? Why do you have to be like this nearly every damn day?!"

He looked you up and down before spatting "More like what happend to you"

"I mean look at ya" "Think that my biggest desire is to sit and smile like an idiot every fuckin evening? Well it isn't!"

"What the fuck Bo?!" "We are barely together! And when we are it's only about one thing!"

"You can be fuckin happy that i didn't replace you yet"

You felt tear stream down your face as he finished the sentence.

"I am very curious who would stick to your drunk ass and tolerate your bullshit everyday" Your voice cracked and you looked away for only a moment as you took a deep breath.

"It’s time to change the scenery, I'm fucking tired of you!" He yelled as he shut the door and left the house leaving you all alone again..

You were truly hurt. It's not like you haven't heard worse from him, but you didn't know if you want to keep hearing more. You knew he's gonna come home in few hours totally devastated either still pissed, or like usual, promising that everything is going to change. And in the morning there would be the „sober“ apologising part. Walking to the kitchen slamming your fists at the table, spilling over the wine glasses, breaking everything that came into contact with your hands that just wanted to hold and caress.. You sat down and cried, the table not so neat anymore.. You didn't want it to be like this. None of this was your fault, you knew that. And there is one person who understands you and your feelings.

You opened the door and walked downstairs, knocking before opening, you saw Vincent, maskless laying on his bed, reading.

"Y/N? What happened?" He tossed the book aside, sitting up. His voice was soft and almost apologetic while you simply stared back at him, face swollen because of how hard you cried.

"I-.. Bo he-.." You shook your head, couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

"Shhh come here" Vincent opened his arms and you ran to him instantly.

But he knew exactly what happend. Vincent heard everything, he heard the fight and your breakdown afterwards. He was waiting for you, he knew you'll come downstairs. To him, like you always do. He smiled softly at that thought. Vincent stroked your back and whispered how it will be all good but deep down he knew that HE will make it all good.

You rolled to your side, clinging onto his sweater you said "Vince, don't leave me alone tonight"

That sentence made him feel all warm and proud inside.

He smirked. Vincent always got what he wanted, it was like that when he was a kid and it was like that now. Remembering how easy it was to make his parents think that he's truly just a damaged, soft little boy, and his twin is the evil one, as they liked to call him. Of course when Bo would go and tell his parents how bad Vinny is, they would be angry. At Bo. How dare he is to talk that way about the precious little artist? When Bo is the one who doesn't listen and always cause trouble! That was his trick. But Vincent didn't want to trick you. He honestly cared about you. Loved you.. But his twin was more slick, he had to give him that. Vincent just didn't understand and couldn't help but think how truly pathetic his brother is for not treasuring you and always ending up hurting you.

The woman who he wished to hold and kiss every night, the woman who always made him feel better with her presence, who talked and listened to his ideas, the woman who would help him when he got injured, sometimes it didn't even hurt that much, but who is he to say no to you? You. The perfect person for him. You two were laying on Vincent's bed for some time, no one saying a word. You had calmed down, your breathing was steady and your tears dried a long time ago. Vincent was now hugging you from behind. Feeling his breath on your neck, finding it calming, you closed your eyes, trying to forget about every little thing that troubled you.

But Vincent wasn't so calm inside. He had you like this and his mind wandered off to many places. The pressure in his pants not helping at all. He buried his face in your hair, taking in a deep breath, he lost all the remaining self-control and rolled his hips aganist your ass and your eyes widened. At first you thought it was because he moved closer, but then you felt it again and again, along with soft kisses on your neck.

You turned to face him right away, which he took as an invitation and slammed his lips on yours. Vincent groaned in pleasure as he devoured your mouth. You didn't know what was happening. That was Vincent.. Your boyfriend's brother..

This was wrong.. So wrong.. You pushed him away, both of you looking confused.

"Vincent what are you-" You didn't have time to finish because he got on top of you, pinning you down with his weight. Your arms were free though, you could have slapped him or something, at least try to push him off, but you didn't. You were looking at him, you couldn't believe that Vincent would ever.. That YOU would ever.. He kissed your neck hungrily again, and your breath hitched as you felt tingles rush from your neck to a different part of your body.

"You have no idea.." Vincent started, his voice deep and rough "How long i've been waiting for this moment." He kissed you again, grabbing your hip with one hand and grinding his hips aganist yours.

"We.. we shouldn't.." You stuttered. "Vincent.. please stop, oh god stop.."

"Mhm, don’t think I can stop.. don't really want to" Vincent whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He bit your lip gently and tilted his head to the side.

"Vince, this is wrong.." You moaned.

"Then why are you pulling me so hard to you?" He asked, the forced innocence in his voice almost funny, considering what he was doing to you.

You didn't even register that your arms weren't next to your body anymore, but one on his back and the other on his waist.

"But Vincent.." You didn’t want him to stop, but it had to. It wouldn’t be right..

"Change of scenery, i'm fucking tired of you!" You replayed the scene from earlier in your head. 'Change of scenery indeed' You thought.

You took your hand and placed it on his cheek, leaning in to kiss him. He looked at you, making sure you're really okay with this. You nodded, pulling him back down for another kiss. That's when Vincent's patience ran out as he ripped your t-shirt, sliding off your bra. Fingers now trailing your nipples. He lowered himself as he took one breast in his mouth, playing with the other one. You wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing him in, feeling the butterflies when he kissed and played with both of your breasts together.

"Vinny" You moaned out. He was now in your panties with his hand, circling your clit, playing with your wetness. Vincent undid your pants, throwing them aside, his own were next. He lowered himself again, kissed and licked your pussy before shoving his fingers in. He pumped them in and out, licking your clit again, recieving sounds from you that were 10 times better than he imagined.

He felt his hard cock beg for attention, his pink tip feeling the texture of the sheets, making him moan into your pussy.

"More" Was the only thing he needed to hear.

He took out his fingers and shoved himself into you roughly, shutting his eye tight, trying to hold himself. Vincent grabbed your hips tightly and began to fuck you violently. Everything he was feeling needed to be let out. That goes for you too. He made an internal promise that he is going to fuck thoughts of Bo out of you. He will do anything, anything you ask him to do. Anything it takes to make you cry out his name. He kind of wishes for his brother to hear you too. But now his main priority is to make you feel good. Your pussy was hugging him so good that he thought he's gonna cum any minute. You played with your clit, the other hand holding onto him. You were moaning non-existing things, feeling the pleasure knot in your stomach, you arched your back and whimpered.

"Oh Vin.. Don't fucking stop!"

With that, Vincent took your legs and threw them over his shoulders, fucking you hard and fast. He could feel that he won't last long. And he also felt that he was hitting your sweet spot when your mouth hanged open, legs trembling while he held them. Your hands were trying to find something to hold onto. You gripped his thighs slightly, and dug your nails in them. Getting another groan from him. That was it. Your hips were shaking as your orgasm took over you. You whined as you felt Vincent pounding your now sensitive pussy.

"Oh f-fuck" Vincent moaned, shook your legs off his shoulders and kissed you deeply. You pulsed around him and with that, he came hard. Fucking out his orgasm, hugging you as he filled you with everything he got.

"My brother has chosen well, too bad i'll never let him touch ya again" He said as he kissed you and booped your nose mockingly.

These upcoming days will be interesting..

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smnthchrstn · 10 months

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If you're taking requests can i request an austin butler fic where the reader doesn't want to do anything sexual after a kiss. And she keeps apologizing. And he starts comforting her saying its ok and she says something like "ex's name said I was only good for his needs,his pleasure" and austin's like "if you don't want me to do anything I won't" I know it's kinda long but my requests never get written so I would really appreciate it.

here you go, dear. thank you for requesting.

tw: for mentions of past trauma/abuse of an intimate nature.

and on a personal note - i recently came out about my sa during a past relationship after five years. so this hit close to home. dedicated to my wonderful wife who wouldn't dream of laying a finger on me without asking for consent, not to mention any other parts, @remuspolaris ❤

"Maybe it will be okay" | Austin Butler x Reader

You were on vacation. Austin had finally had some time off and you jumped at the chance to spend alone time with your famous man. You'd decided on an isolated beach resort, an island of a friend of Austin's. You'd spent most of the day traveling - from the plane, to the boat, to the island, to your small cabana near the beautiful ocean. It was such a special trip, something that you both needed so badly.

And speaking of needing it so badly - feathers of plush pillows and blankets were torn off the bed in a fuss, scattered all over the floor. You screeched softly when he pinned you onto the bed, your back against the cool mattress. You laughed wildly having just participated in a nearly forty-five minute pillow fight with your boyfriend. He could be so silly and you loved it. "I think I win," he said, a devilishly grin on his face. "What makes you so sure?" you mumbled, looking into his crystal blue eyes. "Well.." he said, gently rubbing the scruff on his face against your soft cheek. "You're underneath me, so." You blushed. He did have a point. "So, what that just means I lose? Because you're taller than me and you managed to pin me down?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. Austin leaned down, peppering kisses over your neck. He bit and sucked gently at the skin. It was soft, it was warm, it was his. "I love you," the blonde man whispered in your ear. "I love you," you whispered, feeling the growing pressure in your center. And did you ever. You adored him. "Babe," you whispered. "Huh?" he mumbled, pressing his lips against your neck. "Hey, I - I," you began to stutter. Your breath caught in your throat and you temporarily felt like you couldn't breathe. Tears filled your eyes and began to stream down your cheeks. "Oh my God, are you okay?" he asked, pulling away. Your boyfriend examined you before getting off and sitting beside you. "I - I'm okay with the kissing, I just..I really don't want to do anything more than that. I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry," you began to say, crying harder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disappoint you - I love you so much, I just - I can't," you said, sniffling. "Baby - our entire relationship isn't just based upon sex..if you're not feeling it for any reason telling me at any point is completely okay. I want you to be comfortable, that's the most important thing to me. Don't worry about me, really. Worry about how you feel because that's what I care about the most." Tears filled your eyes as you heard his words. "D-Daniel said I was only good for one thing, that I was only there to f-fulfill his needs," you finally whispered. "Hey, hey, hey," Austin whispered. He drew you into his arms and rubbed your back gently. "Listen to me, look at me," he whispered softly. Your eyes met his. "That guy - hurt you. He abused you. He took advantage of you. I know it's hard to believe, but I swear to you. I will never, ever hurt you like that. We can go as slowly as you want or as quickly as you want. I'm going to be here no matter what." You looked up at him and sniffled softly. "Do you really - really mean that?" you asked, genuinely surprised. "Of course, I do." Austin took your hand and led it over his heart. "Cross my heart. Always. Your feelings will always matter in this relationship. It isn't one of us over the other, we are a team." You glanced at your hands and swallowed. You could feel the steady beating of your boyfriend's heart within his chest. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe he wouldn't be like your ex. "Thank you," you whispered. "Baby, you don't have to thank me for always wanting your consent." You nodded a little, maybe he was right. Maybe this would be different.

#austin butler x reader #austin butler imagines #austin butter imagine #my ficx

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sofasoap · 1 year

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Am I full of sorrow, or filled with love.

Pairing: Simon “Ghost ” Riley x f!Reader ( OC aka Mini MacTavish )

Summary : Part II of " Love, Do not pass me by." Our emotionally constipated boy Simon is having a moment of self reflection. And realise the universe hates him.

Warning: Mature theme, swearing. Alcohol use ( be RESPONSIBLE drinker people.) Unplanned pregnancy ( safe sex pls!) . mention of abuse. Inaccurate medical facts etc.

Thank you to @saltofmercury ’s for lending me her character from “The Favorite MacTavish” , where the reader/OC is Soap’s little sister. PLEASE GO READ HER STORY first to make sense of this

“masterlist” for more stories to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

The tension within the task force 141 after the unexpected pregnancy news, to say, awkward was an understatement. Luckily, Soap and Ghost acted professional stay civil to each other during missions after a stern warning from Price, but off mission they stay far away from each other as they can.

Alejandro made the mistake of asking about the awkward tension once ( bless his poor soul, can't blame that man) and got death glare coming from both Ghost and Soap while Gaz was strongly hinting him to drop the subject.

Ghost stepped outside to have a moment to himself, away from the party noises which is happening back at Alejandro's base, celebrating another successful mission of reclaiming another town from the cartel.

Taking a drag from his cigarette, he thought back to the event from the last few months, leading right up to the event few weeks earlier on when you came to the base and drop the bombshell about the pregnancy.

First time you two met, he wondering what has he done to deserve this, he is pretty sure his enemies must have cursed him. Instead of cursing him to seven hell, they asked the universe to send him not one but TWO MacTavishes to be in his life and annoy the hell out of him.

He heard about you before, Soap couldn't shut up about his baby sister most time. My sister this, my sister that. She's the most precious thing in the world blah blah. Part of him was curious to meet you. Another part wondering you were just as annoying as his brother. You were.

You actually dare to challenge him to a drinking game. To be fair, a chance to shut Soap up for the entire night was the biggest factor that he accepted the challenge. and you NEARLY beat him. The cocky smile that you showed when you think you were on the cusp of victory, stirred part of his heart he never thought he had. He gets drawn to you, bit by bit with each of the meeting and interaction. The sibling bantering between you and Soap made him miss his brother Thomas. That normal family love that he only got to experience for a little while before the tragedy. He was slightly disappointed and got extremely jealous when he saw you flirting with König.

She's mine. Stay away from my woman. His heart screams.

” I am just as cuddly as König if you want to give it a try. And I will keep you nice and warm in the bed as well.“

"My offer still stands, if you are willing." He whispered after walking you back to the accommodation you staying for the weekend, visiting Soap at the barrack. Turning around ,the way you look at at him, confusion and also hint of lust and want just turned him on even more. Does he regret what happen that night? No and yes. No because he had been craving for that light, that little warmth that he has been searching for a long time. All the love and attention you were showing him. Not just some random flings and one night stands. He regrets it because he doesn't deserve any of this. Your gentleness, your laughter, the way you look at him.

The bombshell? His defence mechanism just kicked into gear. "And?" Nonono, don't say that. yes say it. Happiness isn't for you. “ I don’t care. Do whatever you want.” His heart flinches when he saw tears and anger in your eye. It's for the best. His brain tells him.

You will be just the same as your father. You will turn out to be exact same guy. Apple never falls far from the tree. You don't deserve her. Push her away. He can't subject the children to the same fate as him. .....wait.

All of a sudden he realised something.

"... Simon Riley, you are the father of the babies" Did you say BABIES? Are you expecting twins??? A dreaded feeling came to him.

Ding.

Price looking at his phone, email coming through from SAS UK, flagging needing urgent attention. Opening the email, all the smile drained from his face. Gaz noticed it first, bumping his shoulder, asking his Captain what the problem is. Price ignored him and stood up, walking up towards Soap instead who is having what seems to be a good time ( but Price can tell he isn't the usual happy rowdy Soap after a successful mission). "Soap." " Yes Captain? why all this seriousiness?" Soap raise his bottle of beer cheering his captain.

" Is your phone on at all?" Soap pulled out his phone from his side pocket, looked at it,frowning " Aw shites, think I broke it when the bloody asshite knocked me over earlier this morning. better get a new one issued once we get back to base." ".... Mini is in ICU. Your mother tried to contact you but the call couldn't get through, so SAS emailed me just now letting you know. We will get you back to London first flight tomorrow morning. They said there is a chance both her and the babies might not make it." The room just went silent. Ghost caught tail end of the conversation just as he came back into the building. He froze.

He knew it. Everytime he tries to grasp onto that little hope of light, or wanting to make a better man of himself, the universe has another plan for him. You don't deserve happiness We gonna take away everything you want. Make you suffer.

Now he is going to lose the only woman he might possibly dare to say to be the love of his life.

#simon riley x oc #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 8 months

Text

I See You : Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Warnings and Information: Going with a 13+ rating just on account of language in the form of Star Wars and real-world swearing, just to be cautious. Self-indulgent modern AU fic, but you can read it too. This is practice for Crosshair's character as well as something mildly therapeutic. I'm… fine, but not fabulous, y'know? Job hunting is not exactly fun, so I'm just writing out my frustrations. How many Clone cameos can I fit in here? We'll find out together. They're not dead, what are you talking about? Empire gets compared to any one of those multimillion-dollar companies that treat you like shit no matter how good of a worker you are with Palp as the soul-sucking CEO in modernized terms. Rare fic without minor instances of Mando'a, but plenty of my stylistic and narrative use of italics. Minor proofreading.

Word-count: 4,237

The phone rings. You put it up to your ear so fast you nearly drop your cell in your haste to answer, not even looking at the screen. You should've. It would have saved you time, the realization that these people were not reaching out to get back to you about your job application. You hang up halfway into the pitch about repairing damaged products you don't even own.

The lid slams to the washing machine."Oh, fuck me!" you yell, groaning loudly.

You're of two minds; be consumed with your frustrations and take it out on the washing machine, or just clean the paint stains out with your tears. You're sure that'll work just as well as the detergent in order to get out that large smear of phthalo blue. Except, it won't, and the sooner you get this load started, the less time the paint has to set and stain. The lid is lifted.

Footfall softer than falling snow, Crosshair makes his way in from some other part of the shared house, his expression passive as he observes you dunking fistfuls of dirty clothing into the wash-drum. "Is that an invitation or a request?" He at least waited to make his remark until he was certain you noticed him and gave him a trademark "what the kriff do you want?" sort of look.

Knuckles pale as you grip the lip of the machine with one hand. "I'm not in the mood for your-"

"No; I know you're not." Crosshair interrupts you. "But I came to see if you hurt yourself, mostly."

"I'm fine." you snarl, slam-dunking the last of the clothing from the hamper anchored against your hip. "I slammed the lid." A neat brow buckles just a fraction, all the response you get as you push your way past him, returning to the small office that served as your art studio in this house. You're really not in the mood. You were a whirlwind of emotion, most of it negative.

You can feel his eyes from the doorway, trained on the back of your neck as you work. Gosh you made such a mess, you shouldn't have used so much paint thinner. "Go away, Cross. I need to clean up my easel and see if I can't salvage this portrait of…" You stop, breath hitching when you hear Crosshair clear his throat softly. He's directly behind you now, his voice taking on a slightly serpentine quality in its softness.

"Your clean shirt's on backwards, doll."

You shake your head, stubbornly refusing to believe him. "Nice try. Not while my hands are dirty. Tell me again once I get this mess cleaned up."

Wordlessly, Crosshair plucks the runny canvas from its easel and makes sure not to take it beyond the edge of the tarp. Hunter would be disappointed to find a mess on the beautiful hardwood floors so soon after he's treated them. And you'd be disappointed with yourself to give a portrait to an important friend in its current state. What should have been beautiful, angular and geometric lines are little more than a royal mess.

"Just go ahead and trash it for me…"

The same brow arches. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to give Hardcase a painting that looks like that..." you reply, huffing in your disappointment and frustration that you'd gotten so sloppy with your oils. "I said his portrait would be perfect practice for crisp, angular forms with that beautiful pop of blue from his tattoo and this is… far from it."

Your housemate looks at you with mild surprise. As far as mild surprise goes for Crosshair, anyhow. He wouldn't look quite so aghast like Wrecker, or frown quite so deeply as Echo.

"Who are you and what have you done to the Bob Rossified [____] we know and admire? What happened to the happy accidents?" Ordinarily, the comparison to the famous art instructor and television host would have made your face burn brighter than your favorite brand of alizarin crimson paint.

Instead, you scoff at him. "Very funny..."

"I'm serious." Crosshair insists, setting the portrait back on the easel once you've wiped it down, "What's the matter?"

You shouldn't snap at him, but your mouth just runs away from you. "I thought I got a call back from the place I applied to. I was wrong! It was some damn spam call, and I don't know if I'm relieved or disappointed. Okay? Happy now?"

The palms of his hands flash in a surrendering fashion to you before he speaks. "I'd say you're more angry than disappointed." Sighing, you take your cleaning rag and do Crosshair a favor by removing the thinned, blue oil paint from his hands after he notices it himself. "Kriff. Sorry."

Gently, you assure him you'll take care of it. That it's no trouble. That he's right, after some thought, "I guess… I am angry. All these places that are supposedly so kriffing desperate for employees sure take their damn sweet time. Or they seem to be hiring everyone but you. It makes me feel… invisible. They should have called me by now! Right…?" Crosshair looks at the calendar tacked to the wall of your little studio, where it's written in your favorite color the day you applied to the art supply store. They definitely should have by this point, he agrees.

"Have they reached out by email?" he asks gently, watching as you take that same cleaning cloth and gingerly wipe down the bottom edge of the canvas. He's convinced you for the time being not to break it over your knee and pitch it into the curbside bin until you at least give yourself an hour away from your brushes to think it over.

You shake your head, "I've been checking every day. Nothing." You now wash your brushes before the paint gums up the bristles, at least. And then you promise you'll lay aside your brushes and go grab a bite to eat with him. "And most places these days, they're likely to actually trash your résumé if you call them to 'follow up' on your application process. That old piece of unsolicited advice needs to die out, pronto. Just because it worked for- for- Agatha and her generation, doesn't mean it works for mine!"

Crosshair snorts.

"What?"

"Agatha?"

"Shut up… I could have gone with Karen and been unoriginal." you grumble, gingerly fixing the arrangement of your fan brush.

Crosshair retorts sarcastically, giving you a playful smirk. "The 1930s called, they'd like to know why you're using such a dated name." Ordinarily, Crosshair stays out of your hair (and your studio) by never bothering you as you work, but it's clear that he's trying to cheer you up, even a little.

"Unless the 1930s is offering me a job," you start, plucking the thin script brush from his dexterous fingers just as he begins to twirl it, "it better not bother me by calling…"

"The art store will call you eventually, I'm sure…" he tells you, the grim frown matching your souring expression. "You love art. You're a creative person. What better person to work at a place like that than someone who could practically recite an episode of The Joy of Painting in her sleep?" You point out, playfully, that Tech could recite an episode of Painting in his sleep just as easily as you. But at least you crack a smile as you do so, so he lets it slide. "Okay, you and my brother." Cross concedes, thinking back to the time the household decided to try a "painting party" to break up the seasonal gloom last December. "Maybe Hardcase and Wrecker too, if the pocket squirrels make an appearance."

Here, you finally chuckle. "Forgetting Fives would be criminal. Or how concentrated Dogma gets."

Cross just nods agreeably, hoping to keep a good thing going. "I wouldn't dare. My point is, you'd be amazing at an art store. They'd be lucky to have a gal like you who gives a kriff about art working for them."

You flash Crosshair a confused and crooked smile as you set down the last of your brushes and tighten the last twist-cap on your tube of oil-based paints. "You think so?" You're surprised how… sincere Crosshair sounds. You had to do a little metaphorical arm twisting just to get him to join you when the only spot left in the living room was a seat on the couch next to Rex.

Cross just nods decidedly. "C'mon. Let's grab a burger or something. My treat." A burger sounds great, you tell him, fixing your shirt so it's not on backwards before you stroll out the door.

Maker above, did he really mean his treat. Crosshair took you both down to the best burger joint in the city, where the two of you ate your respective orders and split a carton of fries with the house seasoning and plenty of salt.

"Oooh, kriff me…" you moaned blissfully, sucking your fingers clean of the granules of salt and seasoning, "these fries hit the spot every time." They're probably your favorite thing here, honestly. Perfect amount of crispness, balanced flavor, and hot; never ever tepid or cold. Cross snags a few more fries from the carton before nudging it your way, inviting you to polish off the rest. "You don't want any more?" you ask, curious. "There's still plenty in there to share."

He offers a lazy shrug, "I'll think about it." He slips his phone from his pocket when he hears a ping, and he hums thoughtfully after reading the message. "... Think I should let Wrecker find out on his own that he's home alone?" You can only shake your head disapprovingly of the wry smile, mouth too full of food to chastise him. While Wrecker and Crosshair weren't afraid of messing around with one another, you worried about it getting out of hand on occasion. "Fine. I'll let him know we're not home so the big guy doesn't worry, doll. In fact…"

Cross types down a message much longer than a simple courtesy "we're not home" text, and then cleans up the discarded burger wrappers and straw sleeves, snagging a few more fries once you say you can't possibly eat another bite. "Good. Not a lot of fun when you go shopping hungry."

"Didn't we just make a grocery run two days ago?" Crosshair shakes his head, then pitches everything into the large garbage receptacle as you grab your things. "Not that kind of shopping then." you determine. There were a lot of possible options, but you didn't have to slog through another massive grocery list, at least. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see." Crosshair replies simply, holding the door for you to follow after as he steps into the parking lot. "I had an idea." Now you really wonder where you're going, or what he has planned. Crosshair and spontaneity get along about as well as a Tooka and bathwater, sometimes.

You have to remind yourself that Crosshair wasn't a complete stick in the mud all the time, and when you first met him, he was still working for the same company that his other brothers had quit once they found out what kind of person the man who ran this multimillion company turned out to be.

First found himself working under some bloke named Edmon down the managerial line, before he was arrested for embezzlement. Then a real asswipe of a superior named Nolan took over, and after someone got hurt really badly on a "company retreat" and Nolan refused to call for an ambulance, Crosshair finally came to his senses about the place.

They don't give a shit about how loyal of a worker you are, just like Hunter, Wrecker, Tech and Echo warned him. They were right all along.

You thought you mattered to us? Please… Someone younger and desperate enough will come in and take your place if we feed them enough honeyed lies!

So Cross stole Nolan's car and drove himself and the injured coworker down to a hospital two hours away from the company retreat. Crosshair had known the guy for less than 24 hours (or something like that), but Mayday's injury helped Cross come to realize that the company was a sinking ship. So he got them both out. Now, Mayday and Cross spend every Sunday night checking in on each other. Cross works odd jobs from home, mostly, and Mayday… Well he was content with not being employed for a while.

The longer Crosshair has been living at home with his brothers again, the more he's starting to get (some of) his old sense of self back. He's no longer couch surfing because he didn't want to deal with his brothers fussing over his choice to remain with the company.

He was never, ever kicked out.

Cross had always been welcome to come back home, with a spare key tucked under the welcome mat if he ever needed it.

You'd been the one to find him letting himself into the house at three in the morning after Mayday talked Cross into going and seeing his brothers. You were "leasing" a room from the brothers at the time, and they had let you know the deal about Crosshair. "Please don't call the police if you ever find someone who's just… let himself into the house. That's our brother. We've been worried about him. He's made choices we don't agree with, but he's still our brother. We care about him."

Of course, Cross had no warning about you, but he eventually warmed up to you in time after you had practically broken Hunter's door off its hinges to let him know that Cross was here and he was tackled into the coffee table by the biggest of his brothers in Wrecker's excitement.

That spare key under the welcome mat now sits on your ring of keys, which you fiddle with in your hands the longer you and Crosshair drive through the city.

"Isn't this the way downtown?"

"Mhm."

"Still won't give me a hint, Cross?"

"No." he chuckles, pulling the steering wheel into a smooth left turn. "You'll see soon enough, doll."

He's taken you to the art store, to your surprise. The one you applied to. Not that specific location you applied to in town, thank the Maker, but the chain, rather. "I haven't been to one of these places in years…" Cross admits softly as he pulls himself out of the car. "Figured while we were out of the house, we'd stop by."

"How come?" you ask. You'd recently just bought a bunch of paint, so it's not like you needed anything in particular, really, maybe just wanted… There was one particularly pricey art supply you've had your eye on and lusting after for a while now, but given your current unemployment status, you're really trying to control your spending. "You got a project in mind, or somethin', Cross?"

Shoulders bounce. "Not really."

"So… what are we doing here?"

"Looking." he declares, steering you into the store by your shoulder. "Lookings always free. So is anything you can apply the five-finger disco-"

"Cross!"

"I'm kidding." he declares semi-defensively, laughing at the expression on your face. "C'mon, doll, you know I'm kidding. Hard to smuggle out a whole canvas or large pack of… whaddya call those markers? Cop-picks?"

Mild mortification turns into bubbly giggles over his decent effort to pronounce the brand name. "Copics. They're called Copic markers. And, they're kind of a scam." He just looks at you with an expression of confusion, so you figure you better explain. "Here, lemme show you." Taking his hand, you lead Cross down to the aisle dedicated to sketch pads, pencils and markers. On the shelves, there's dozens of specialty packs and bundles with quirky names.

Oceanic, "Beach Blast!", and skin tones are all prominently stocked for the summer. Singleton markers are what you're looking for though. You pluck a Copic Classic from one of the slots, and point to the price sticker.

A whopping 9.65 credits for a single kriffing marker. "Keep that in mind," you say, as you scoot down the aisle and show him the stock of Ohuhu brand markers, "and compare it to this." You select a similar color to the Classic in the Ohuhu brand, and tap the price sticker. A far more reasonable 2.49 credits.

He scratches the back of his head and neck. "What the kriff…? Is there a significant difference in the brand or something?" He's not exactly all that artistically inclined like you are, so to him, he's not sure if there's anything he's seeing that warrants such sticker-shock for a damn marker.

"Just the name, really. Copic markers aren't really the end-all-be-all of alcohol-based art markers anymore. Ohuhu branded markers are just as good as Copics, and you get more markers for say… fifty credits in Ohuhus than Copics." you explain, putting the markers back in their respective slots. "I won't bore you with more details that go into it, but that's the bare bones of it."

Cross nods politely to indicate he's listening to you, lifting a pack of art markers off the display to give it a closer look. Once he has satisfied his curiosity, he puts it back and glances at the different sketch pads. "And these probably tell you what they're best suited for, somewhere." You confirm his thought with a simple nod, tapping one of the sketchbooks. Drawing pad, 64 pages best suited for graphite, marker and colored pencils.

"They'll often tell you either on the cover, or on an inside page, sometimes. Depends on the brand."

You're getting the feeling that maybe Cross is looking for something after all, but he won't admit it to you. He keeps asking you question after question as you go down each aisle of the store. If there's a section dedicated to a particular craft you're not very familiar with, the two of you just look at the items in silence for the most part. You're (pun not entirely intended) pouring over all the different resin supplies together when Crosshair asks you another question to break the silence.

"Do you ever show your art online? Some kind of… creative forum, or something? Or is it all just personal projects, like the portraits you've done for Rex and the one you're trying to do for Hardcase?"

You chew your bottom lip for a moment as you mull over what you'll say. "I… stopped. For a long time."

"Why?"

You huff softly, returning one of the unusual resin molds back to the shelf. Little space shuttles and UFOs and such. (Space travel… wouldn't that be something?) "I couldn't get out of the trap of comparing myself to others. I don't know if you could call it imposter syndrome, or anxiety, or what. But I just felt… small. Unnoticed. Invisible." Crosshair frowns, stepping closer to you to allow someone with a large cartful of yarn and children's paint sets squeeze past. She looked like a teacher, gentle and kind and so, so tired. But she gave the pair of you a kind smile as she moved down the aisle and pondered over the different bags of beads one could buy in bulk for crafts.

"That's the second time you've used that word, [____]."

You give him an inquisitive look, surprised by his statement. The rare use of your name. "Wh-what word?"

"Invisible." Crosshair answers, closing that gap between you further when his hand reaches out to cup your face for a moment to scrutinize you, study you. "Is that how you feel?"

"I guess?" you start, but you think a little more, and you find that, yes, sometimes you do feel invisible. "I feel like… people don't… notice me. Like I'm trying to do it all damn wrong. It's been fucking weeks and places won't call me back! Or I'll post things and it gets a handful of interactions when I put the effort into it, but the shit I don't, that's what fucking blows up and goes viral. I don't fucking get it and I… sometimes I just don't know why I bother trying to apply myself when I'm just… invisible and unseen. This shit sucks, Cross." you admit a little bitterly. You take a deep breath and apologize for swearing in the store, in case the other customers can hear you. You apologize again when the tears begin to prickle and well in the corners of your eyes for getting so worked up, but you're just kind of at a loss for what to do next. You've tried so many things… you just feel like you're talking to yourself because no one will answer your applications.

Crosshair doesn't say anything for a while, and you don't take it to heart. He's not the chattiest of your housemates, as you learned a long time ago. Sometimes, he did have things to say, but he wanted to take some care with his words if Cross sensed he needed to be a little more delicate.

And he could be surprisingly good at being delicate when the need arises.

Assuringly, tenderly, Crosshair brushes the tears from your eyes and motions for you to follow him. "I see how much this stuff matters to you. If a stuffy old art store can't see it, just know that I see it. You're not invisible to me, kid. I see you." He's brought you to the paint section, coming to a stop in front of the selection of oil paints in particular.

"I may not understand all of… this," he gestures broadly at the display of thick, silver-foil tubes of paint, and selects a beautiful cerulean blue off the rack, "but I see how much this means to you. You know your shit. You're getting better all the time. I see that. One day, I think people will see that you know your shit too, and you won't have to feel so invisible anymore. But I see you. Hunter, and Wrecker and Tech, and- your friends see you, doll. You've got such a passion for these things… but you're…"

You wait for him to continue for a moment, wondering what he wants to say. You decide to hazard a guess when all he can offer is a soft shrug when he finds himself at a loss for words. "Beating myself up, too much…?" You eye the tube of paint in his hands, and wonder for a moment why he's been taking so many things off the shelves only to look at them before putting them back in their proper place. Tech's told you Cross has sharp eyesight, perhaps more on the farsighted side if anything. (Was he more farsighted than you initially assumed?)

"Perhaps." Cross admits, softly juggling the tube in the palm of his hand. "If nothing else I said sticks with you… I just hope that the fact that I see and recognize your efforts does, doll. I know I'm only one person, but sometimes, just hearing it from one person is all we need."

You feel your cheeks pinch with a little smile hearing him say that. One of those things, one of those times where someone says exactly what you needed to hear when you didn't know you needed to hear it most. "That's… awfully nice of you to say, Crosshair. Thank you…"

"I should give some credit to Mayday," Crosshair admits with a soft laugh, now pulling a tube of cobalt and ultramarine blue off the shelves, "he's the one who's been encouraging me to… do what feels right, if he thinks I'm feeling a little lost between the odd job. And doing what feels right includes helping you restart that portrait of Hardcase if you really think you need to trash the first one."

"Is that why you keep grabbing all those different blues?" you giggle, watching him now idly shuffle three different tubes of blue oil paint in his hands.

Crosshair nodded, making you laugh as he grabbed a fourth tube with a wink. "Yeah. I noticed that you didn't have these blues back at home. And that you use phthalo blue a lot like a certain painter."

"Are you comparing me to Bob Ross again?" you tease, stifling a laugh as you make your way to the checkout together. You've been away from your brushes for more than an hour at this point, and you're itching to get back to the process of creating while you still have the time to do as much as you want; before you're hopefully contracted with a job offer and have less time to dedicate to such things.

"Maybe." he purrs mischievously, ringing up each of the paints before carefully wrapping them up in their own separate plastic bags for the trip home. "If I am, do I get to see you paint?"

You can only shake your head with a gentle laugh. "We'll see, Cross."

That's good enough for him, he says as you collect the receipt from the self checkout machine, just so long as you promised you'd give yourself a little more grace and faith that soon enough, you'd get the job offer you wanted.

Some days will be easier than others… but you'll do your best, you promise. You're pretty sure you can manage that.

[Masterlist] [Requests: OPEN]

Tagging: @the-hexfiles who wanted to see some soft!Crosshair <3

Note from Frost: Apparently Mayday got assigned some kind of "Work Dad who takes care of and looks out for the younger employees" vibes while I was writing this self-indulgent (and mildly therapeutic) quick-fic, lmao. And hopefully, this ends up being good practice for soft!Crosshair down the line, as it comes into play in the next long-form series I'm working on. Yeah maybe it's perhaps a tad too out-of-character, but kriff it.

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queerbuckleys · 1 year

Text

YOU WERE LIGHTING FLARES CHAPTER FOUR: I'M INTERTWINED, AND RUNNING BLIND [1.2 | pining oblivious idiots] {ao3} prev. first.

Eddie was looking over his chart when Buck’s eyes crept open. And his voice barely a whisper comes out,

“Aren’t you supposed to be takin’ care of tiny babies?”

“Not when big babies get themselves crushed by fire trucks,” he says with a small smile. “I'm on break.”

“Hey, I’m not a baby,” Buck tries to gasp but it ends in a coughing fit that has Eddie rushing up to help him with the water cup.

When the cough has subsided Buck looks up at Eddie with wide wet blue eyes, he looks five years younger, as he grasps Eddie’s arm,

“I- I still have my leg right?” the tears start to bead the unasked question embedded in it the look in his eye, “I haven’t dared to look. it still feels like it’s there but-“

“Hey, baby, no” Eddie swallows past the mistake, “scarred to hell and back but your leg is right where you saw it last. Okay? Christopher is going to be so excited to draw on your cast, and be your crutch buddy.” he smiles wetly running a hand through Buck’s curls.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“When can I hold the babies again? I don't want to be away too long.”

“Buck,”

“They'll forget me!”

“They’ll never forget you- okay? You are too important, even if they don’t remember your name, or what you look like- the love you give them? It’s integral, it changes who they grow up to be fundamentally. They can’t forget you.” Buck just stares at him, pleading, as if it’s not just about the babies. It's about him. Which Eddie supposes it is.

“I'll check with Miranda and your doctor and we’ll come up with a plan so all of you can be safe, oaky?”

Buck nods, and winces.

“It hurts.”

“I know. I'll get your nurse to get you some pain relief. and get some sleep okay? I’ll be back when my shift is over.” He runs his hand through Buck’s curls one more time and resists the urge to place a kiss on his forehead.

He leans in the doorway, watching Maddie fret over Buck who rolls his eyes every time she tries to fluff his pillow. and Buck spots him and shoots him a playful “save me” look so he lurches forward and enters the room properly.

He gives Maddie a tight hug and tells her to go get some coffee or even go home for a few minutes. She worries at her lip slightly before turning to Buck for permission. He shoos her off with a smile.

It's quiet for a minute. Eddie taps his foot.

“So, did you mean to call me baby earlier today?” Buck shatters the silence and Eddie nearly falls out of his chair.

“wh-what? I- you remember that?”

“Yeah I do? and I'm asking if you meant it.”

“I just, it just sorta slipped out cause you were so upset. It was a reflex.” Eddie swallows past the omission. It was a reflex because I care about you. because I think I might just be a little bit in love with you.

“Oh. Okay." Eddie thinks he imagines the hurt and disappointment.

Seconds tick by. Buck seems to be studying the cheap bland generic painting that hangs opposite Eddie.

“So, I talked to Miranda,” Buck turns his head towards him, finally, “she said as soon as you are cleared for a wheelchair and of any infection you can come by- as long as your doctor signs off on it.”

Buck smiles, really smiles, for the first time in what feels like days.

“How are they doing? I miss them.”

“There is only so much I can say, but they are all doing really well. Celia went home.”

Buck grins widely.

And Eddie finds that there are tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

Buck grabs his hand and squeezes it tight.

“Hey.”

“You scared me. You’re not allowed to do that again. I can’t- I know it’s not your fault some kid wanted revenge. But you scared me. And I thought I would have to face Christopher again-“

“Hey, hey, hey- I'm right here. I can't make promises. But for right now, I'm not going anywhere.”

Buck is sitting on the couch, like he always is these days. Sometimes Chris will come over either with Eddie or Carla so he’s not alone and isolated in the apartment when he doesn’t have PT. Hearing that it would be a month or two before he could go back to holding babies in his free time had hit him hard. Especially while he was also not working. He barely felt like a person anymore without those things.

And for the first time in the two weeks since he was discharged and settled back at home- he and Eddie's schedules line up so that Eddie isn’t working and he doesn't have PT. Eddie had been telling him that he has an idea that will keep him occupied while he can't come into the hospital like usual. Buck was skeptical but curious.

Eddie walks in, sans Christopher since he has a playdate with Denny and Harry, and sets a Trader Joe’s tote on the couch next to him. Soft skeins of yarn are poking out of the bag along with a few knitting needles.

“How is it that we have slept in the same bed, and yet I am still learning new things about you?” Eddie looks at him, the glasses that Buck had found out about the first late night spent at the Diaz house unexpectedly, resting on his nose. His eyes are calm as he just shrugs lightly and sits cross legged on the couch next to Buck.

Buck no longer has any attention to pay toward the soft sitcom playing on the tv as Eddie picks up what has to be a tiny hat, placing it in his lap and clicking the needles together, he isn’t even really looking, his eyes on the tv, only looking down occasionally while he adjusts the tension of the working yarn.

“You knit!” It's a kind and exciting observation.

“I knit for babies,” Eddie deadpans, letting his hands rest.

“You say that like it makes it less endearing and heartwarming.”

“Yeah, well, it started as a coping mechanism for the PTSD induced insomnia and just spiraled from there. I mostly knit for…” he pauses as a look passes over his face, “for the ones we can’t help.”

Buck grabs Eddie's knee, grounding him back down to the present.

“It helps to know they have something cozy.”

“You really are something Eddie Diaz. I hope you know that, deep down, you are so” he pauses as he gets Eddie to look at him, “You are good.”

Eddie looks at him with shining wide honey whiskey eyes, “no one has ever told me that before? It’s been implied, and Frank has told me so much in the therapy way- But god, hearing it from you? It-” Eddie swallows, “I just, I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“You don’t have to, as long as you believe it. Believe it for me.”

Eddie bites his lips and nods, and it's quiet for a moment.

“So, you teaching me to knit or what?” Buck says brightly to pull it back into their usual rhythm of banter.

Eddie leaves the apartment, leaving a ball of yarn and a set of needles for Buck.

Buck sends him a text the second he’s out of his eyeline.

To: eddie 🩺 whenever you need a reminder. im here.

#911fic #buddie #aj writes stuff #usermoonlight #userbuckleyhans #userweres #bmtb fic

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itshouldvebeenme30 · 2 years

Text

A Formidable Mistake

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Genre: ||ANGST|| bad writing, mentions of blood, injury, cheating, argument

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I have no idea what this is. I just woke up from a dream and decided to write it.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Main Masterlist

*gif not mine*

Even though warm blood gushed from the side of your lower abdomen, no one noticed how you slightly grimaced and clutched your wound tightly while Captain America angrily reprimanded you right now. Not even your girlfriend would spare a glance at you, sporting a pissed-off look in the distance.

"What the hell are you thinking, Y/N?! You nearly got Tony killed and jeopardize the whole mission!" Your head hung low, taking all their frustrations directed at you. Tony is still unconscious from the whole fiasco that happened on the mission. The others would either look at you disapprovingly or with disappointment evident on their faces.

"Luckily Wanda was there in time..." His angry rants continued, and all you could do was sit in silence and accept the harsh words spewing from the Captain's mouth.

"I think it's best that you should be suspended until your head is in the right space. You really seem out of it, Y/N." He finally concluded and dismissed you. You nodded your head and proceeded to go out of the room. Not wanting to bother anyone, you start to walk in the direction of your own room, wincing every now and then. Natasha made no attempt to follow you.

You're not going to deny that you really do seem out of it for the past couple of weeks now. This may have to do with your crumbling relationship with a certain redhead.

And finding out about her infidelity.

It all makes sense now. Her tendency to pick fights over minor things, her coldness toward you, and, most importantly, her constant absence and excuses.

You rummaged through the cabinet in your bathroom to get the first aid kit while holding your phone in the other hand. You still can't comprehend how your Natasha could do this to you. The video hauntingly glared at you as you watched it blankly. You already felt numb and tired, so you tossed your phone aside and proceeded to uncaringly tend your wound.

You were mildly surprised to see Natasha sitting on your bed. Her expression changed briefly into a concerned one when she saw your exposed wound.

"You're hurt." She stands up to approach you, but you take a step back, not wanting her fake concern for you. Her face and steps faltered at this.

"Y/N..." The softness in her voice made you snap at her angrily.

"I'm fine!"

"What? Am I not allowed to worry about my girlfriend?" There's a slight rise in her voice, too, but you don't want to deal with this right now. Actually, you don't want to deal with this relationship anymore. You fought and held onto it so hard, but all in vain because she gave up on it a long time ago.

"Girlfriend?" You ask in a small voice. Exhaustion threatens to overcome you, so you sit on the edge of the bed, ignoring the sharp pain on your side as you move.

"What, Y/N? What's with that tone?" She doesn't have the right to be angry with you, but you couldn't care less. You're just so tired and you feel like giving up.

"When was the last time we actually talked, Natasha? When was the last time we held each other, seeking comfort from each other? When was the last time you said 'I love you' without having to force it out of you? When was the last time you thought of me as your girlfriend?" Your eyes brimmed with tears and held emotions that you tried so hard to keep to yourself. You blink those away and look at Natasha with a blank expression. She's not the only one who can hide emotions that easily.

She tries to open her mouth but closed it afterwards when words got stuck in her throat. She has nothing to say, after all. She doesn't have any excuses left, you think.

Even after all the things she's done, you can't bring yourself to hurt her more than she hurt you. You realize this is the end. She doesn't need to know that you knew about her infidelity. You decide to end this once and for all since she can't make that decision herself. Part of you selfishly thinks that she still has a miniscule amount of love for you, but you have settled to think that she only pities you. The same thing that the team has given and shown to you. Their goddamn pity.

"I don't wanna fight anymore, Natasha. It's clear that you don't want this as much as I want to." You take a shaky breath. "I'm breaking up with you."

"T-that's it? That's just it? You give up? What makes you think you get to decide what I think, o-or feel?!" Her tears threw you off. What makes her think that she could manipulate you into thinking she still cares about you? You angrily stand up and push her out of the room.

"You can stop pretending now, Natasha. I don't want your pity, or- or your fake concern when we both know you stopped caring about me a long time ago. Blame me all you want, but I'm not gonna let you walk all over me." You still love Natasha with all your heart. You do. But this is killing you both. You are both no longer good to each other now. Before she could utter a single word, you slammed the door in her face.

She knocked and pounded the door profusely, demanding to let her explain. You're having none of it. You revoked Natasha's access to your room and let yourself fall into the bed, ignoring the searing pain inside and out.

It wasn't real.

She tries to convince herself that.

You were wrong about her. None of it was play-pretend on her part. She truly cares about you. She still does. If it wasn't for the guilt that consumes her whenever she looks at you, she would've held you tight and told you that she truly loves you. Her heart constricts and her mind screams that she doesn't deserve you every time you show her how much you love her unconditionally. She's underserving of the love you're selflessly giving her.

It was her unintentional distance that drove you to break up with her. You didn't mention anything else, and that made Natasha worry if it was a good or a bad thing.

She made a mistake a long time ago. It was made in a drunken stupor and her immense longing for you while you had been away on an undercover mission. And the worse part is, she fell into that routine. None of it meant anything to her. It was just a product of her own immense guilt and insecurity about herself.

But nothing compares to how hurt you sounded when you called out her actions. It all came crashing down on her. She wanted to touch you one last time, but you wouldn't let her. As selfish as it may sound, she realized too late that she was afraid of losing you when you ended things with her.

She's still at your door, softly banging her head against it, hoping you'd let her in. She spent an hour there before F.R.I.D.A.Y announced that Tony had been awoken and requested for the team to come. She didn't want to leave, but she knew everybody would come looking for her if she didn't show up. She wipes the dried tears away and composes herself.

She just hopes that when she comes back, you'll let her tell you the truth you deserve to know from her.

And maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to get through it together and start over.

The pain did not go away as you thought it would be when you fell asleep. Instead, it feels like it burned you from the inside out, and you couldn't help but grunt in agony. You ripped the blanket off of your body and noticed the pool of blood drenching your bandage and bed.

Your sight is blurry but you dare to stand up to get into the bathroom. As soon as you got up, a wave of nausea washed over you, and the next thing you knew, your body fell with a heavy thud.

"Romanoff, there you are! Where's your girlfriend? I wanna thank her for saving my ass back there." This caused the others to look at him in quite disbelief. The lack of trust in you from the team boiled Natasha's blood.

"What do you mean, Tony? She nearly got you killed..." Guilt and shame are evident in the captain's voice.

"Pfft, killed? That's nonsense. She saved me just in time from that maniac who was bragging about their weapon that, in theory, anyone would never recover from if they got hit with it." Natasha froze.

"I suppose your girlfriend is okay since she's not in the med bay here with me, right? God, I hope she wasn't injured in any way because, frankly, I don't want to test that maniac's theory."

"We have to get to Y/N. NOW!"

But by the look on the redhead's face, Tony's face paled.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha romanov angst #natasha romanoff angst

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spookymultimedia · 3 months

Text

Small oneshot I made of Leia coming out to Nichole

Word count: 709

I laid on the bedroom floor of their girlfriends room and stared up at the ceiling from the cushy sleeping bag. I was ruminating about my gender again. I'm trans. I'm a transgender girl. Last week I had came out to Craig but I'm too scared to tell anyone else about it. I just don't want to disappoint people who knew me as a boy. I dunno.

“Hey,” Nichole whispered from her bed, “you awake?”

“Yeah.” I sat up. She turned on her bedside lamp. It was nearly 1 am on her alarm clock.

“Oh good because I can't sleep. Hold on,” she turned out the light and pulled out her pillow pet before turning the light on. The room had a soft pink glow. “there, now it's less obvious we're awake.”

“You've done this before huh?” I couldn't help a small giggle.

“Uh yeah.” she slid off her bed and sat next to me.

I needed to tell her. I needed to tell her now. It was killing me keeping this a secret from her. She deserved to know the truth.

“Nichole.” I touched her hand.

“Yeah?”

My throat suddenly got all choked up.

“Is there something you need to tell me?” she held my hand. Fuck. I love her so much. Tears pricked my eyes.

“What's wrong?”

“I'm scared you'll hate me.”

“Well what is it?”

“I'm not a boy.”

“Oh. . .are you trans?”

“Yeah.” I rubbed my eye.

She pulled me into a hug. I hugged her back and leaned on her shoulder. I tried to stop crying but I couldn't stop.

“Why are you crying?”

“It's dumb but I'm scared you'd break up with me.”

“What? No, I'm pansexual. I don't care.”

I sat up holding her hands.

“But you fell in love with me as a boy, I thought you'd be disappointed that I'm not Tolkien.”

“No way, I just want you to be you. I love you. I like how genuine you are. I love how you're a good friend. I love your giggles. I love all of you.” she cupped my cheeks. I blushed.

“I love you too.” I mumbled in awe.

“Okay, so you want me to use she/her for you?”

“Uh, not yet, I'm not completely out to all my friends yet. But when I am out, yeah. She/her or they/them is cool.”

“Is that why you've been going by the name Tea lately?”

“Yeah. But it’s technically the first initial of my old name. I know I want something different but I haven't figured that out yet.”

“Okay.” She petted my hands. I smiled.

“Who else knows?” she asked.

“Only Craig Tucker. I told him I hated being a boy.”

She nodded.

“Are you going to come out to your parents?”

“Probably. I'm just nervous I'll disappoint my Dad. I don't wanna tell him I hate the name he gave me or that I'm not his son anymore.”

“They're allies aren't they?”

“Yeah, they pro-lgbt. But I don't know.”

“Well my parents are supportive too, so you're safe here. I have a cousin who's trans and they love him.”

I nodded.

“You ok?”

“I just really don't feel at home in my body.” I mumbled.

“I could braid your hair sometime.”

I blinked wide eyed, “Really? You'd do that?”

“Yeah, when you're ready. Have you had your hair different before?”

“Not really, no. I'm sick of looking at it.”

“Yeah, it sounds miserable. Being in a body that doesn't feel like yours.”

“It really is.”

“Can I kiss you?” She mumbled.

“Yeah,” I giggled.

She kissed my cheek that made me giggle more.

“Sshhh!” She said trying to contain herself too. We stared at each other quietly for a moment.

“You're my girlfriend.” She said with a smile.

A glimmer of euphoria danced within me.

“Yeah.”

“We're girlfriends.”

“I sure hope people don't start drawing weird Yuri art of us.”

It was her turn to giggle as quietly as possible.

I yawned.

“Oh I'm keeping you awake aren't I?”

“A little bit.” I rubbed my eyes.

“Sorry, yeah. We should really go to sleep.” She crawled up into her bed and turned off the light.

“Goodnight Tea.”

“Night.” I went to sleep feeling lighter than before.

#south park #south park fanfiction #leia black #nichole daniels #tokole

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scratchandplaster · 3 months

Text

Stack The Deck - PART 14

CW: defiant Whumpee, explicit threats of noncon, referenced dubcon, multiple Whumper, Whumper-turned-Whumpee, non-con touching, withdrawal, mouth whump, intimidation, pet whump, casual racism, ableist language

PART 13 ⇽ [Masterlist] ⇾ PART 15

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Occasionally, Elliot drifted into consciousness only to be pulled back down at every new spike of fear. This endless dance between waking and dreaming continued until the sun had begun to set. Slowly and with great endeavor, he managed to let his heavy eyelids stay open at last and noticed how his left arm was carefully bedded on a cushion.

"You napped the whole day," a whisper next to Elliot's ear made him suck in a startled breath and flinch around.

Now face to face, Morris laid just inches away from him and the bed groaned under their shared weight as Elliot tried to get some space between them, only to be roughly stopped by a force around his other hand: a leather cuff kept him tied to the bedframe. Its chain rattled as he tugged on it.

Come on! Through the newfound scare, he hit Chris with an appalled look.

"Just for now, don't worry!" he explained apologetically, "You will try to run again, and I need my sleep too."

Messed it up again. Great job, you idiot. Elliot was all out of tears for now, he could feel how sore the edges of his eyelids were from the previous hours.

Fear was milked dry too, so a new burn crawled along his spine, one both of them couldn't dare to afford. This time, it was not pain that spurred him on; Elliot was pissed. After nearly a day spent in his own personal hell, he only had new questions and every cheap answer only turned out to be more confusing than handy.

"Why do you act like you care?" Elliot asked, already suspecting the cryptic answer.

Because he missed me. At least this time it was personal enough that he was the reason of this torture, not his ex ghosting her dealer. If Chris really liked their time together, he shouldn't be docile and polite, on the contrary. He needed to make Morris regret ever meeting him in the first place! During the last few months, Elliot seemingly developed a talent to push people away, a skill he needed to work on him now too.

Well then, Elliot ought to make him suffer for a change.

As Morris fished for a plate full of leftover pancakes on the bedside table, he strained to keep his rough voice gentle: "It's not an act, I worry about you."

An invasive finger tried to caress Elliot's cheekbone.

"Hands off!"

Disappointed, Chris dropped his arms back on the blanket.

"I don't want to scare you. I apologized, I-I thought you were fine, you're fine."

Fine. The word felt like salt in his wounds. Elliot was a wreck of the man he used to be, he couldn't even remember the different phases of his life. By now, there was only before and after Morris.

"So the best way to show your worry was taking me against my will again?"

"I saved you," Chris replied sternly, like he had to convince a jury.

"Saved me. Saved!" Elliot couldn't believe the unending delusions he had to tolerate.

"Yes."

"YOU RUINED MY FUCKING LIFE!"

The shrill cry hammered the undisputed truth in and let them both recoil.

But Elliot didn't even think about stopping, ignoring Morris' desperate attempts to shush him: "I lost my job, my passion, I can't even look my parents in their eyes without imagining what you'd do to them!"

"Nothing!" Chris yelled back and tried to present his outstretched hands as proof, "I don't plan to hurt you or anyone for that matter. I had no idea about the piano thing, I truly didn't know."

"Oh! Oh, you knew where I lived and when to get to me, but the chapter about my job was just too boring to give a single shit about."

"I didn't know, when I did that..." Chris began to trail off, his gaze fixed on the cushioned hand, "I thought you did stock trades, remember? Amber should've-"

"Amber? Yeah, go ahead and blame her, why not! But of all the crap she did to me-"

"To both of us-"

"GOD," Elliot was already kneeling on the bed, successful in ousting his opponent to stand on his own, "at least she didn't turn me into a fucking cripple!"

That bastard was lucky Elliot was chained up now, he never imagined how great it felt to let all bottled-up anger burst through its thickly veiled prison. Morris had to listen and could do nothing but stand around, mortified. Even if he changed his mind any second, beat him to a pulp and threw him into the ocean, it didn't matter: this was worth it!

"I understand why you're mad, but I'm trying to make amends. You forgave me," how Chris' wee fish brain was even able to let him breathe on land was a mystery to Elliot, "but if that's not enough, tell me what is."

"You know a good neurosurgeon?" he scoffed instead.

Morris knew Paula-Marie, the veteran nurse with the face of a bulldog who would stitch him and Dutch's men back together when a tour had become ugly. He doubted this would help.

"Let's start small. Baby steps, okay?" Morris was sure Elliot could still play a bit if he really wanted to, but was just too lethargic to try. Another reason to keep him far away from those pills.

"Sure, I tell you how to get even: you'll take this damn chain off, you're going to open the door and never harass me or my family again," Elliot demanded with absurd nerve, given how obviously inept he was to stop his body from shaking. Not only that, countless goosebumps sprouted on his skin despite the heater running high and the sweat-drenched clothes that stuck to even damper skin. Watery eyes gave a hunch of what was happening and hit Chris with welcomed ease. This fight wasn't his fault after all.

"Oh, I get it now. It has already started, huh? That's why you're lashing out at me."

"What started? Don't sidetrack," Elliot replied, nervous about the sudden lack of defensiveness.

Everything was becoming so clear now. Forgiveness, recompense, the taming of Elliot's prejudice: these were all topics for later, when he could get his feelings straight. It had been more than twelve hours since Chris brought him home, so withdrawal was right on time.

"Are you feeling nauseous too?" Chris' voice became impossible soft, "Does it itch?"

Once again, his hand reached out to dab the beads of sweat from Elliot's forehead. A desperate kick to the stomach was all Morris got rewarded with.

"Never ever touch me again!"

Never was a big word; as for waiting, this Chris could do. But first, he had to be sure he still had a good nose in that regard.

"Do you need your meds?"

Yes, oh sweet Jesus, yes! Elliot was desperate for a chance to numb himself. Even though he had to behave for it, he could play along for a while.

"Please," he whispered, dropping to sit hopeful on the bed's edge.

Yet instead of pellets made from synthetic calm, a disappointed sigh escaped his chaperon: "Wrong answer."

Chris plumped down on the armchair again and tried his best to ignore the tirade of curses and insults spewing from Elliot's fair lips. No matter how hard the next days turned out to be, it didn't matter: this was worth it!

--------

For the whole night, nobody in the apartment slept. Chris tried to get some more breakfast into Elliot, but to little avail, he was turning more and more irritated by the second.

Meanwhile, Morris had found the time and energy to tinker a wrist brace, so Elliot wouldn't hurt himself sleeping. Or during other pastimes Chris hoped to initiate soon. Between cardboard, hot glue and the turned back Elliot gave him whilst sulking in bed, the morning had been blissfully quiet.

Until there was a rustle at the door.

First, Chris thought it was his steady-drunk neighbor fiddling with the wrong lock again, but when the first peg clicked dutifully into place, his heart skipped a beat.

Elliot had noticed it too, someone was joining them. Maybe Berry, or whatever his name was, the Montreal angel who could release him into freedom.

Their eyes met.

Before Elliot could even use the fleeting chance to cry out, a handful of fabric was already shoved into his mouth. Shut up, shut up, shut up!

"One noise and your hand will be the last of your worries," Morris hissed in his ear, choosing a tone Elliot definitely recognized.

Nevertheless, he tried to kick the man straddling him off again, but a hard slap to his right cheek whacked his head against the metal frame. Elliot saw stars.

"Sorry," Chris stressed voice whispered and threw a pillow over his face as if to hide the dazed man, "just let me sort this out."

Jumping up again to slam the door between the kitchen and bedroom shut, Morris too suspected who tried this little break-in. Admittedly, yes, he was supposed to be available, but to treat him to a few days of sick-leave surely wouldn't kill Belanger. Adopting a wide stance to welcome the fucker who dared to show up unannounced, Morris was ready. Said man finally opened the door to let Chris' face drain off all color. Oh, no.

"Good morning, Christoph!" The cheerful greeting trickled down his spine like acid.

"Hello, Dutch."

Head not only hung low in terror, but also to keep the conversation at eye level, Morris went through his options. Lying, at any rate, seemed necessary. The man himself felt free to take the first steps into the kitchen, eyeing it from grout to ceiling as he wiped the condensate from his glasses. His judgement-filled stare came to rest on Morris, who unconsciously picked dead skin from his fingers until they bled before opening his mouth again: "You...uhm, you got a spare one?"

"If I have a key to my own apartment, Christoph? Do you want to ask me that again?"

"No! I-I just didn't expect-"

"I do, as you can see. What I don't have is the nerve to tolerate your biannual hissy fits," he started to berate, the speech placid and in tune with his gestures. "I give you a bed to sleep in, a car to borrow and this what I get back for my aid?"

He didn't look irate, though that was rarely the case. The beast disguised its snarl as a laugh.

"No, of course not! I'm very thankful for-"

"Well, somehow it doesn't feel like it, but even your thankfulness doesn't bring in any money. I should be working too, but instead I'm spending my time here…with you."

This was even worse than the lecture Chris had brought onto himself last winter. His knee stung with every gibe.

"So then you go on and cause poor Belanger to lose it. He's practically seething, as you are aware of. And you also know what happens every time he gets fed up." Chris' fingers twitched imagining what he would do to that snitch, still praying Elliot was stunned enough to hold his tongue. "I won't have to stand him, and I doubt he'd like to take a stroll in this part of town, so you know who has to, don't you?"

"The girls." Chris swallowed hard.

"Of course, his poor girls. Now imagine: the whole day you freeze by the slip road to have some greasy cocks shoved up inside you, just to be appreciated by the receiving end of a fist because a certain someone can't be bothered to pick up a call. It's tragic."

"Sorry." Besides all the bootlicking Chris shuffled in front of the door that he needed to keep closed under all circumstances.

"Well, you're going to be sorry when I make you sell your ass out there. Is there anything I must know about?"

"Personal reasons, I was…distracted."

"See, that is where-"

A muffled scream from next door cut them off. Oh, god.

The thin smile which appeared on Dutch's face couldn't make his mild facade budge: "Is there anything I must know about?"

"'S'all good," Morris lied, but couldn't stop the treacherous shiver running down his neck.

"Christoph, what are we doing here?"

Another, more enraged cry was all information necessary. Dutch simply clicked his tongue.

"I can explain!"

Pushing Morris aside, the door swung open to reveal, well, not exactly what the stranger had suspected.

Elliot, for one, tugging loudly on his cuff and not even dreaming to stop making noise for even a second, could hardly believe his luck. His noble savior just had to get him out of this room and he would never bother them again. Just inches behind him, Chris followed, revealing a face he had never seen him in before: true, genuine fear.

"I'm aware I'm not allowed to bring someone over, but look, this is a-a-an emergency, and I didn't know where else to put him."

The older man's eyes lit up further the closer he came.

"He's usually not a screamer!"

All the hassle about missed shifts was forgotten, Dutch powered through this farce with unhealthy patience: "I'm disappointed, to be honest, we could've made a playdate out of this."

The innuendo caught Morris off guard, though he hadn't repressed his last visit to the office. Stepping over to the bed, Dutch examined the man struggling to sit upright. It was clear he was less than thrilled about his current position.

"¿Eres de por aquí?"

What the-, Elliot thought as his chin was roughly grabbed by a leather-gloved hand and turned to the side. Help me, you asshole!

"Is he, Christoph?"

"Huh?"

"You need to know what they are when you want to sell them." Oh, fuck.

"I don't- that's not what's happening here," he yelped and for the first time, Elliot's muffled protest supported him.

"Is that what the H was for? Can't be, it's been forever," he wondered, "Loans? Not that I'm insinuating you to be in the position to lend in general."

"No." Chris felt like he was going to hyperventilate until the eager look of his boss finally got him where he wanted, suddenly tired of the interrogation Dutch expected nothing but straight answers. A lie, Morris decided. No, even better, a true confession that animated Dutch to respect boundaries.

"He's my boyfriend."

The bedroom went deadly quiet. Face held firmly in position, Elliot didn't even react. No yelling, no crying, but simply looking on in silent disgust as if the word itself made him rot internally.

"And does he know that too?" Dutch cared to learn, whirling back to the man under him, "Did you know that?"

Elliot's mind suddenly decided to bow out.

"That's a no, I'm afraid" the stranger pouted back at his employee and this time the comment stung in hot embarrassment. "Apologies, I didn't intend to ruin the pining, but you have to admit that this…unexpected. I feel like a principal catching you two petting behind the gym in seventh grade."

This man was not shocked by a tied up hostage, not outraged at imprisonment; at best, he acted mildly irritated. He appeared to be in his fifties, Elliot guessed, his thin wire glasses and soft face marked with laugh lines made him look like your favorite neighbor down the street.

Ultimately, his distasteful cues left a foul aftertaste on Elliot's tongue, but as the man picked the gag out of his mouth and sighed deeply, the world turned a bit more peaceful. Elliot couldn't afford to be picky, if this were the only rescue available he'd gladly take it.

"Please help me, sir," he whispered in the best customer-service-voice he could muster, ignoring all of Morris frantic signs to stay quiet.

"You beg so beautifully, do it again."

The world had gone to the dogs and cursed its children to be devoured by the very same. Nobody here wanted to help, and underneath thetweed coat and corny tie Elliot saw the stranger for what he really was: an apex predator.

Observing an erratic, twitchy Christoph at the far side of the room, who was not coming closer but obviously desperate to get him out of the room, Dutch allowed himself to be the only one enjoying the scenery: "Glad I took the walk, this is lovely! But you are confused, so let me explain: your sweetheart here refuses to do what he's told, and I cannot let that stand, now can I? First he neglects his duties to start a late summer romance and the next thing you know, he'll make a deal with the competition to get me out of Chinatown."

"Dutch, I would never-"

Who the fuck is Dutch? This was all backwards.

"I love when he gets like this, all jittery." Helpless, Elliot's head lolled over to see Chris in all his nervous glory.

There was a gleam in the stranger's face he quickly blinked away. An idea had spouted.

"Should we tease him a bit?"

Elliot didn't want to figure out what that tease would entail. Too late.

"No, no, nononono!"

Without warning, the gloved fingers that only just held his face were shoved inside his mouth. Others pressed into his flesh until he was forced to open even wider as he tried to curl away from the brash intrusion.

STOP! Just why wouldn't they stop touching him?

All the squirming to no achievement only earned him a disapproving hum from the man, who seemed horrifying precise in how to toy with his body.

In and out, the vulgar rhythm of his knuckles let him slide deeper and deeper down Elliot's throat, all under the watch of indifferent eyes. Despite the writhing and mewling and arching away, resistance was futile. Elliot's angry left wrapped around the glove with all his might but got swatted away, so the last chance to free himself was to lock his jaw and-

"If you dare- Hey! If you even think about using your teeth, I will break them out of you one by one."

Every word hit a nerve. Elliot couldn't breathe, couldn't stop retching and gasping around Dutch's fingers until he was used as he pleased.

Frozen in place, Chris leaned on the wall with his mouth pressed into a thin line and his gaze fixed onto the carpet floor. If anyone listened, he prayed for it to stop already. Another sin to amend for stacked up.

"Look at him, Christoph," the man demanded coldly, "not at me, at him."

Morris eyes darted full of panic between his duties, fists clenched and released with each heartbeat until his head threatened to explode at any second. All those present knew he was unable to do a thing about it.

Fear beats rage any day.

"This is your fault, and the next time I stick something in him will not be as proper."

"Yes, sir," Chris pressed out between clenched teeth.

Not intruding further, just resting inside Elliot, the leather-gloved hand paused as if to think about its next choice. Yet, the lesson already caught on. Without wasting any more effort, Elliot was released.

Only being held down now, the pressure inside him was slowly vanishing. Despite Elliot retching around the palpable ghosts of the invasion, a gasp of relief came over his spit-smeared lips. Every cough freed him from the dirty taste of leather and fumes.

"Badly trained as well," the man stroked a thumb over his Adam's apple, "Did he try you out already?"

Try me? Try to kill me?

Morris decided to answer for him instead: "No."

"A true gentleman. But you're missing out, Christoph here can suck you off like a champ."

Unsure of how to take this compliment, but no less flustered, Chris doubted the man in his sheets was enticed by this kind of flirting, judged by his horrified stare. Though Elliot had allowed for similar speculation in the past, he never thought it could lead up to this. His mind was granted a useful answer, just a filthy one it couldn't possibly accept.

Luckily, Dutch's attention was pinned down on Morris again: "Are you expecting someone else to join? East Hasting and Kaslo, don't let him wait."

Without another word, Chris darted through the room to grab the bare essentials, leaving a helpless Elliot panting for air. At last, the stranger had pulled his disgusting hand away and also disappeared from his focus. All the vile flavors of worry and weakness tumbled over each other.

By the time he came back to the present, Chris was fully dressed and hovering over the bed again. He, too, was speechless, the cursed word hanging over them like a bad omen.

"I'm not your- What the fuck, Morris?" This had to be a bad joke, not the reason he was brought here. A ruse to get that guy off him.

"We'll discuss it later."

"There's nothing to discuss!"

"You're too loud," Chris had to take a deep breath, "Sorry, I know I will regret this."

Trying to muffle a possible desperate scream that Elliot long hadn't in him, Chris pushed the fabric back into his abused mouth. He hated how Elliot wasn't even trying to fight back anymore, Dutch tended to cause this reaction in people.

Gagging him once seemed insufficient; a roll of duct tape circled around the lower portion of Elliot's face, and he did nothing but simply lie there and take it until the ripping of the tape stopped. The restless tears had begun their trek again.

"Shh, don't cry," Morris whispered sweetly and nodded over to the kitchen, "Seriously, he likes that."

A little peck on the tape stayed unnoticed through Elliot's paralysis.

"I'll be home soon."

Though he would not be not alone, no. Rather, Elliot was left with Dutch and the consequences that would entail in his absence. He'd stay if he had the choice.

Before strutting to the apartment door, he met his eternally poised boss between the pantry and dinner table to interrupt his inspection of the thermostat. Chris prayed that his parting words would calm leftover animosities: "I take full responsibility. He's not-"

"You're running late," Dutch stated, his amusement outlasting the last sliver of patience. All had been said.

Leaping down the staircase and praying for safekeeping, Chris ran west into the unknown.

"There he goes," Dutch's whispered. Now, he was free to take his time looking through strange property and pulling open every single drawer he pleased. The one thing he wouldn't complain about was the well-kept state of his home, it was nearly impressive how well organized a man on the run could be. Dutch kept himself busy by browsing through the few books he discovered between old clothes until his interest got caught on Christoph's latest possession. One with a very pretty mouth. The man was assessing…contemplating.

"- try you out already?"

Locking his knees together just earned Elliot a dirty grin.

"If he doesn't perform like usual, I'm going to blame his incompetence on you. Would you like that?"

He quickly shook his head.

"Speak, boy."

"No, sir", Elliot muttered through the restrictive layers between his teeth.

"Good. In that case, keep your legs spread," came the sober response, "I don't intend to waste any more of my time."

The man grabbed the TV remote from the nightstand, turning on some program about endangered birds Elliot couldn't care less about, the volume high enough to suppress any wayward screams for help.

"Will I hear a single noise complaint from my tenants?"

"No, sir." Being stuck in that piercing stare made shakes wreck through Elliot that didn't come from a lack of artificial opioids.

"Entonces sé un buen chico y escucha a tu novio," was the last thing he was told before the stranger turned on the spot and let the door lock into place.

His wish was granted at last, Elliot remained in solitude.

--------

Somewhere near the harbor, a pleasant walk from city parks and small cafés, an office door swung open. Hanging his thick attire on the coat rack, Dutch let unopened letters drop haphazardly onto stacks upon stacks of paperwork.

They had to get the new shipping load to arrive tomorrow, otherwise the supply chain on the main land would be delayed pretty quickly. He ran a stressed hand through his hair and sighed. He truly couldn't afford to waste more time like this, even if a quick indulgence always lightened the mood around the office.

Speaking of which, his personal joy had to have woken up by now. Dutch circled the room to finally catch a glimpse of the scantily clad figure kneeling on the floor, always securely collard to the desk. A single knuckle under the chin was enough to make once bright eyes stare back in apathy. A view to be savored again and again, one that made Dutch's inside stir in wild pleasure.

"You won't believe the day I had."

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Masterlist]

Taglist: @whatwasmyprevioususername, @canislycaon24

@febuwhump

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sweet-seishu · 2 years

Text

hate to love you

chapter twenty four

《prev | masterlist | next》

Scared, terrified, uneasy

That's all you felt as you walked towards Mikey’s office, Ran close beside you as you tried to take calming breaths.

"You okay?" Ran asked softly.

"Fine." You stated, not looking at the older haitani, you couldn't look at him, not after you basically embarrassed yourself by almost admitting your feelings.

Ran only frowned. Why wouldn't you talk to him? He was beginning to wonder if he had done anything wrong.

He knows that you heard him that night when he told you he loved you, is that why you were so quiet with him?

He didn't have time to think about it, because Mikey had met you both outside of his office, his stare relentless as Ran immediately noticed you tense.

"Inside, now." Mikey stated. You both said nothing as you walked in to sit down. Your eyes widened when you saw Sanzu, but he only sent you a wink, trying to make you more comfortable.

Both of you sat silent as Mikey took his seat, staring at both of you with his dark eyes. "I'm disappointed." He said, your heart dropping at his tone. "I sent you two because I figured you two could handle it, seems like I was wrong."

"Mikey–" Ran started.

"Shut it." Mikey spat. "I'm assuming this was your fault anyway. You begged me to let you go with her, and I should have listened when she said to send Rindou or Sanzu with her instead."

Your head whipped to look over to Ran, his jaw slightly clenched. He begged to go with you?

"Ran I don't know what to do with you." Mikey said. "You're always distracted, you don't focus on what you're actually supposed to be doing. Instead your head is in the clouds, thinking about how you're going to try and get y/n to like you."

"Mikey if you just listen–" Ran tried again.

"I don't think I need to listen." Mikey said. You sat silently, picking at your fingers, scared to look up at the platinum blonde in front of you. "This should have been easy." Mikey pinched the bridge of his nose, the frustration on his face so evident it gave you chills.

"Mikey, just let me expl–"

"You're done." Mikey stated. Your heart dropped in your chest as you looked over to Ran, who had a blank look on his face. "I can't have you around just for you to keep fucking things up, we can't keep growing at this rate."

"Boss–" Sanzu started.

"My decision is final." Mikey told his number two. "Ran, you can go."

You nearly panicked as Ran moved to get up, but you were quick to stop him, grabbing his hand quickly. He gave you a confused look, but squeezed your hand softly. "Mikey.." You said quietly. "He wanted me."

"What?" Sanzu asked. "Who wanted you?"

"That creep. Who we had to meet..." You said. "He wanted to negotiate."

"But it wasn't negotiable." Mikey stated.

"Ran told him that, but he kept pushing, he wanted me to be one of his whores.." You said. "It's not Ran's fault, if anything, it's mine."

"Y/n…" Ran said quietly.

"M'sorry Mikey… I fucked it up for us." You said. "Maybe if I had–"

"Y/n don't say that shit." Ran told you. "I'd rather die, or get banned from this shit show than let that stupid fuck take you from us."

It was silent, too silent as you looked at Ran, your breathing heavy and your heart pounding as you tried to hold back the tears that wanted to surface.

"I'm going to kill him." Mikey stated. Sanzu only stared at Mikey, a brow raised.

"Wait what?" You asked, turning your head to look at him.

"If he thought he could have you, he was very mistaken, and the fact that he wanted to use you as a whore-" Mikey paused, gritting his teeth. "I care about you too much, and I will not have you be disrespected like that." Mikey spat. "So I'm going to kill that piece of shit myself."

"But it's my fault Mikey… maybe if I had just agreed–"

"Enough." Mikey stated, making you pause. "This isn't your fault, and it's not Ran's either, don't blame yourself." Mikey looked to the older haitani, giving him a small nod. "Ran, I apologize."

"It's okay." Ran said, his hand squeezing yours tightly as if it were a stress ball. Mikey was quick to notice, raising a brow at you as you bit your lip.

"You guys can go, I'll deal with all this bullshit. Sanzu, have Kakucho arrange a meeting." Mikey told his number two. "Except this time, he'll be on our turf."

You got up, letting go of Ran's hand before leaving the office. Ran was quick to follow you, grabbing your arm once you were both outside the door.

"Wait." Ran said, pulling you off to the side. "Thank you."

"No problem, it wasn't your fault." You told him, pulling your arm from his so you could go home.

"Y/n–" Ran said, grabbing your arm again. "I– shit okay um, I know you heard me.. that night.."

Shit.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You told him. "Ran I really need to–"

"Y/n.. please– I just–" Ran took a breath, making you look at him as he tried to figure out what to say. "What do you feel for me? I need to know, please.."

You wanted to tell him, so badly, but the words kept getting caught in your throat. Your eyes stung, your stomach was in knots, you could have thrown up if you were being honest. Why was it so hard to say it? What was actually holding you back?

"I–" You started. "Ran it's just–" You looked into his violet eyes, so much hope behind them, but it's like all the words died on your tongue. You looked down, away from his eyes, you could barely look at him, the anxiety coursing through veins as you bit your lip.

Ran scoffed, taking his hand from your arm. "So that's it? I confess my feelings to you, and I get nothing back?"

"Ran–"

"I really hoped that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same, that after everything that happened, you would maybe– fuck–" Ran chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "I really am a fucking idiot. How could I have ever thought I had a chance with you?"

"Ran it's not–"

"Save it okay? I get it now. You and me? It isn't going to happen, and I just have to learn to accept it." Ran said. "Loving you really does hurt." With that he walked away, leaving you outside of mikey's office with tears in your eyes.

"You okay?" You heard Sanzu ask. You shook your head no, finally letting the tears fall as Sanzu took you into his embrace. "Y/n, it's okay, don't cry."

"Why am I like this haru? Why- why can't I say it?"

"You never were good with feelings." Sanzu chuckled.

"Haru- why does watching him walk away hurt me so much?" You frowned.

"Because you love him?" Sanzu pointed out. You could only sob, as so much realization hit you.

The truth was, you were pretty sure you've always loved Ran. You loved fighting with him, your stomach filled with butterflies as he complimented you, and when he stood up for you? Well that was just the icing on the cake.

"I do haru, I love him so much I– fuck!" You sobbed, clinging onto sanzu as you cried. "I'm so stupid, so, so stupid."

"You're not stupid baby, you're just scared and that's okay." Sanzu reassured you. "Everything will work out I promise."

"Will it? Because I'm pretty sure I fucked things up.." You cried, your heart hurting more and more.

"It will, because you're gonna put on your big girl pants, and you're gonna tell him." Sanzu told you, kissing your forehead. "You got this y/n, I know you do."

You only nodded, questioning whether or not you would actually be able to do this.

taglist: @the-psyco-simp @matsunosan @captainsbaby @themagiacademy @nalyana @q-the-rockaholic @guesswhatiamabookworm @reiners-milkbiddies @sanzuharuchiyoswife @wakasagurl @fallensuguru @gulfkfl @tokyometronetwork @gabytodd @shuujin @toshikamo @hana-patata @bluppen @simplyhaikyuu @-miiss-orihara- @bontensbabygirl @yes-i-am-a-sinner @kurumi-4 @kirakirakill @inupishornygirl @pandabooster @ayeputita @berriesandcrem

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smau #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #tokrev smau #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #haitani ran #ran haitani angst #haitani ran x reader #bonten ran #bonten angst #bonten #bonten x reader #bonten smau

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spaceyflowerswriting · 1 year

Note

Can you write something where Jake kim finds out his partner is not eating and selfhärming but try’s to help her through it? It’s ok if you don’t want to write this, sorry if I made you uncomfortable

gentle (jake kim x reader)

details: angst oneshot with some fluff at the end, gender neutral reader written in 2nd pov, general canon au, you and jake have been dating for a while

summary: jake wishes he noticed the signs of your state sooner, but he's just glad he can still be there for you.

warning: reader is described as starving themselves and self harming. the most explicit detail is mentions of cuts.

a/n: thank u for requesting! dont worry about requesting something heavy, i just hope i wrote it in a way that isnt insensitive ;_;

(all hidden under a cut because of the sensitive material)

"Please tell me the truth." Jake gulped, moving over to block the doorway when he saw you take a hesitant step forward. "Please." His voice softened, brows furrowing downwards as he looked at your lip, which began to quiver.

Your eyes were glossy, and they did not match the small smile you plastered onto your face. "Jake, it's not what you think--"

"Then tell me. Please tell me what's going on." The suspicion Jake had for a while that was slowly starting to look like a truth made him sick with horror. He didn't want to believe it, but the evidence couldn't be denied anymore, not even at your word.

"I..." You stumbled over your words and trailed off, and when you finally came up with an excuse, it was barely believable. Every second your smile became more strained.

Jake shook his head and held a hand out, saying your name. "I want to believe you, I swear, but you sound so unsure of what you're saying and you... you haven't explained the..." He found himself unable to say what they were, as if by doing so, his fear would become true. But it seemed like it already was. "On your arms," he settled for instead. "And the small blood stains on your sleeves."

Your crossed your arms as soon as he mentioned them, clutching them. This time you just stayed silent and stared at the floor.

"And you can't deny that you haven't been looking as happy or healthy as of late. The last time we hugged, you were a lot smaller than I remember. I don't think I see you eating as often, either."

Again, you stayed silent.

It did nothing but confirm Jake's thoughts, and soon he found his eyes welling up with tears like yours. He couldn't stop to think, words spilling out of his mouth as soon as they entered his head. "Why are you doing this to yourself? And for how long? Why didn't you tell anybody? Why didn't you tell me?" He grew shaky, his voice desperate but not angry. You remained motionless. "I--We--The others and I, you know we love you, right? We can always provide support for you and if you're going through something like--"

"It's not that easy!" you snapped, nearly making Jake flinch. "And I know you and Big Deal care, but it's not--" Your arms tightened around yourself as your voice hitched. "It's not that easy." More and more tears spilled from your eyes until you had no choice but to wipe at them with your palms. "I don't know what it is either. Or maybe I do. I don't know. I don't know, okay?"

Jake frowned, mainly in disappointment at himself for not being able to provide the comfort you needed right now. He could only piece together in a quiet voice, "I'm sorry for raising my voice. I just--no, nevermind." He took a deep breath, though it did little to help his state. "We should calm down, okay? I'm here for you, let's talk this through."

When you made no reply, he stepped forward and in that moment, you ran right past him. Although shocked, he managed to grab your wrist just in time.

"What are you--"

"Let go!" you sobbed, refusing to look at him.

More panic arose in Jake. "I don't understand--"

"It's none of your business, okay?!"

"But--"

"Will you please just let go? I don't..." You were hicupping and roughly trying to brush away your tears with your free hand. "I don't want to talk about it. How about that? Just let go, please, and leave me alone."

There was nothing Jake wanted more than to just give you a hug but he didn't want to agitate you in your current emotional state. Slowly, he slipped his hand down yours and you pulled away. You didn't run off right then, taking a moment to continue wiping away tears, but to no avail. Eventually you began walking off and Jake stared, even after you left his sight.

After a moment, it was as if everything came crashing down on him and he dropped to his knees, his palms nearly digging into his eyes as he sat there and sobbed. A storm of regret ran through him.

"I fucked up," he stammered, quietly repeating it until to himself until he couldn't anymore.

He should've seen them. Even if they weren't obvious, even if they were that minoscule because you hid them so well, Jake should've seen the signs. He cursed himself for not being able to, for not helping you sooner, for being in denial. Despite that, he knew he shouldn't be thinking about how miserable he felt when you were the one who needed warmth and sympathy, but when he confronted you three days ago, you ran off.

It had been stressing him out ever since, but he was thankful you at least sent back a reply saying you were fine when he had Brad and Lua go looking for you. Plus, you were still making the small effort to occasionally respond to his texts to say you just needed space. He still stuck close by, of course.

Just like before, he wanted to trust you, but he wanted to be there, too, in case you did anything drastic.

"So... this is awkward."

Jake perked up from his desk at the sound of your croaky voice, and looked up to make eye contact with you. He couldn't help but notice how puffy and tired your eyes looked, but he still flashed a little smile as you glanced away. "No, not at all. Did you need something?" He set down his papers, clearing his throat and trying to appear as casual and open as possible. "I'm, uh, I'm always here for you."

You nodded absentmindedly. "I know."

"Okay. Good."

There was an awkward silence afterwards, and the elephant in the room was very much present--Jake wanted to bring it up, but he was afraid you might clam up again. He understood the first time he rushed you out of his own overwhelming worry for you, and now he wasn't sure how you'd react to a more gentler approach. It would be better if he just waited for you to say something first, right? But what if you never did?

Before the anxiety in him grew worse, you gestured vaguely before dropping your hand and then sighing. "I'm... sorry for being distant." Your voice cracked, and Jake felt his heart breaking into a million pieces. It was awful to see someone lovely like you, even if you weren't his partner, be in this much pain. "And for... worrying you."

"Don't worry, I understand. You don't need to feel sorry for anything. And you know I'm sorry for all the insensitive things I said then." Jake was still hesitant on what he wanted to do, but instead of walking on eggshells, he took a deep breath and decided to just ask. "Do you feel ready to talk about it now?"

You shrugged. "Not really. But I felt guilty knowing how much I hurt you so I figured I'd at least come see you."

"Ah..." Jake awkwardly chuckled. "It's fine, I promise. I took zero offense in your actions."

"Thanks." Your reply was dry, but it's wasn't as if Jake expected you to be enthusiastic or anything.

More awkward silence passed. The two of you were looking off to the sides. Jake's mind was still running a mile a minute while trying to figure out how to proceed the conversation.

After a moment of debating questions to ask, he went on to confess something instead. "I don't mean to make this about me, but this is my first time helping someone with something... uh, like this." Jake moved his gaze back towards you. "So if I do anything wrong or insensitive like before, I really want you to tell me how to correct it, because I want to be the best I can be to help you through this." He quickly added, "I mean, I'll do my own research and stuff, too, of course, but... you know. I just want to make you comfortable and make it clear I only want to help. Even if it means giving you space or shutting up or something."

You were still looking away. When the corners of your lips tilted upwards a little, Jake sighed in relief. "You always mean the best. I would never assume you're trying to hurt me, or anyone for that matter."

He beamed at you. "I'm glad." His smile softened when you finally made eye contact with him again. "And, hey, since you don't feel like talking about it yet, is there something I can do for you at the moment? Distract you, maybe?"

Apologetically, you bowed your head slightly. "No, sorry. I'm just... working through it right now."

"No, no, it's fine!" Jake tried to say reassuringly, waving his hands. "I'll be here as long as needed."

Your smiled widened. "I appreciate that. Really."

Jake nodded, still smiling. He began to stand up, only to awkwardly halt and then ask, "May I hug you?"

He felt his cheeks turn a little red when you stared. The embarrassment only increased when you began to softly laugh, shaking your head. "Yes. Yes you can, Jake."

"You..." He huffed, putting his hands on his hips. "I just wanted to make sure, okay?"

You just hummed as you held your arms out. "I know. And it was very sweet of you to ask first."

The slight pout on Jake's face quickly turned into a grin. He strolled over and enveloped you into a warm hug, sighing in content when you did your best to return it. It was only three days, but he missed the feeling of you in his arms.

"Can I say something?"

Jake snapped out of his mild haze. "Anything."

"Thanks for not leaving me even though you saw me at probably my worst."

Your quiet voice and your words gave Jake more heartache. He wished there was something he could do to instantly help you, but he knew it wouldn't be that simple.

In response, he lightly tightened his hug on you and said, "You don't need to thank me for that. But since you did, you're welcome." He paused for a moment. "I'll do my best to support you, always. I believe you can make it through this, and any other tough times in the future."

You nodded into his chest and Jake finally felt like everything was going to turn out just fine.

#lookism x reader #jake kim x reader #requests #this feels a little rushed but im not sure what else to add T_T #anyways damn my latest jake works being sad as hell... i need to write sumn goofy with him soon 😭

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waltwhitmansbeard · 11 months

Text

go on, claim my heart: chapter thirty-six

see my masterpost for what came before this.

When Percy returns to his chambers, he is unsurprised to find Vex there waiting for him. Perhaps he should be surprised; there are a great many things for the Captain of the Royal Guard to be attending to at this moment, from the upcoming mourning ceremonies to the following coronation of the new sovereign to a reorganization of the guard following a kidnapping of a member of the royal family. Yet he opens the door, and there she is, sitting on the end of the bed, feet on the footboard, elbows on her knees, exactly where he knew she'd be.

She watches him in silence as he slips out of his shoes, shrugs off his coat, hangs it carefully on the hook by the door. The weapon he keeps at his hip goes onto his desk, and then he sits beside her. Without a word, her arms come to circle his neck, and she pulls him back, so that their shoulders hit the mattress and she's holding him, keeping his face pressed into her chest as he weeps for the second father he's lost now.

They lay there for longer than they should—he also has so many things to attend to, so busy, this time meant for mourning—but Percy can't bring himself to move. At some point, Vex's fingers have drifted up to play with the fine hairs at the nape of his neck, and he rather feels like a cat being scratched just so, wondering vaguely if he might spontaneously start purring. The thought, sudden and unexpected in the stillness of the moment, is overwhelmingly comical, and a laugh bubbles up out of him.

Vex pulls her head back to quirk an eyebrow at him. "What's so funny?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing. I'm...being stupid."

"Yes, well, I'm used to that." She smiles softly at him. "Did you say goodbye?"

"I did. It was...hard." And he finds that he does not want to talk to her about this, not when he has been so blessed to have had two fathers, each kind and generous and imperfect and wonderful, when she was denied even one who was not craven and heartless.

So instead he tackles the other elephant in the room. "I heard you."

Her breath catches in her throat. He watches her eyes dance between both of his, sees in them the strategizing, questioning whether she can get away with pretending she doesn't know what he's talking about.

She knows she can't. "We don't have to talk about this now."

"Vex'ahlia..."

"We don't. Our sovereign is dead. Keyleth will be crowned soon, if she's even awake yet. Vilya was nearly sacrificed in an immortality ritual not twenty-four hours ago. Bigger things are happ—"

He kisses her, slow but insistent. He then rests their foreheads together. "There are no bigger things. Not to me." He presses a hand flat against her stomach. "I will not presume to tell you what you want. I know that you take great pride in your independence, and if it is important to you, it is important to me, too. But I will say..." Oh, he did not expect this, the closed-throat emotion of it, the hiccuping heart in his chest. "I have been, in my life, so very good at convincing myself that I do not want the things that I want. It is easier, I think, not to want, because if you do not want, you cannot be disappointed.

"But this? I want this. I want you. I want our family, messy and strange and so very, very perfect. Seeing my sister, dying, being lured back to life by the sound of your voice—all of it made me realize that I am a man who wants a great deal, and I will not deny myself that want any longer."

Tears slip quickly and silently along the curve of Vex's nose. "I've been so scared," she breathes, "so, so scared. I didn't know—what if you didn't—what if I didn't—"

He shushes her, pulling her in this time to cry into his shirt. "I'm sorry you've been holding this alone," he whispers into the crown of her head. "I'm scared, too. I think it's safe to say my own relationship to parenthood is...complicated. But Vex..." He gently pulls back to take her face in his hands. "I love you." Her face crumples. "I love you more than I think I know how to say. And loving you is one of the only things in this world that does not scare me."

She kisses him then, wet and hard, and whispers against his lips, "I love you, too."

He holds her close, this miracle woman carrying their miracle child, and focuses on not letting his heart burst right out through his chest. After a few minutes, a thought strikes him. "Wait, did you know about this before you left on the quest for Vilya?"

A prolonged pause. "Um. Yes?"

"The quest so dangerous it got me killed?"

"Mhm?"

"Oh, I am going to be so very, very angry with you later."

"Of course, darling."

Vax rests back against the headboard, Keyleth curled into a tight ball in his lap. He's tucked her head under his chin, and now that she's cried herself out, she breathes slowly, in and out, clearly still exhausted even though her eyes remain stubbornly open.

And he can imagine why; what nightmares must await her in her sleep, what horrors, what sorrow, what fear? To travel the continent in pursuit of their stolen child, only to come home, battered but triumphant, and be told that her father, now, is lost forever—what has Keyleth done to earn such acute agony as this?

(Because it is forever, this loss. Vax sank deep into the pool of blood, let it fill his lungs to bursting until he was in front of her, seething, seeing red, demanding the return of his wife's father. His relationship with the Raven Queen has always been tenuous, nebulous, unsure; he will serve her until his dying day, and likely long after, a fitting payment for the gift of his wife's life, but then, what is the point of being her so-called champion if he cannot do even this small thing, restoring a good man to world?)

Keyleth has one hand gripped tightly into the fabric of his tunic, as if she fears she will blow away in the wind if she lets go. He strokes her hair, tangled and soiled from all their time on the road, and presses soft kisses about her temple. From just beyond their bedroom wall, he hears the familiar babbling sounds that he once feared he would never hear again. He is so endlessly grateful for Nel, who has installed herself in this cottage as Keyleth begins the agonizing process of putting her pieces back together again.

Keyleth must hear Vilya's small coos as well, because she murmurs, "I need her."

Vax doesn't need to ask for clarification. He carefully shuffles Keyleth to the side and slips off of the bed, and for a brief moment, the hand twisted into his tunic tightens. Then she lets go, and he quickly leaves the room, where he finds Nel tidying up, the baby snuggled in a woven sling across her chest. Nel looks just as tired as Vax feels—she'd been summoned as soon as they'd arrived back through the cherry tree, and once she'd confirmed that Vilya would suffer no long-lasting effects of her kidnapping, she'd remained to watch her while Keyleth recovered and Vax stalked off to futilely feud with a goddess. As Vax relieves Nel of her burden, he conveys his thanks for her steadfast dedication to his family. She merely pats his cheek with a sad smile and tells him that she will return as soon as she can take a brief nap of her own.

Vax takes Vilya back into the bedroom, where she curls easily into her mother's arms. He sits beside them, an arm around Keyleth, and when he feels some of the tension in her shoulders ebb away, he says, "I hope you know that I begged. I promised her everything I could to get your father back. I'm sorry it wasn't enough."

Keyleth runs a fingertip along Vilya's nose, across her rounded cheek, up to the point of one ear. "It's not your fault."

He hears what goes unsaid in the monotone of her voice. "It isn't yours either, Keyleth. Tell me that you understand that." She doesn't answer, and Vax wants to take her by the face, force her to meet his eyes and believe it, truly believe that she is not responsible for her father's demise.

"What did she say?" she asks instead, still looking only at their daughter. "When you asked for him back?"

Vax runs a stressed hand through his hair. What did she say, indeed? "She said that this was part of her warning, though I cannot possibly figure out how. She claims that the threads of fate are still being pulled. Kiki, I don't know what it all means. I don't know how to make this better, I don't know how to fix what's been broken."

"I need to see him."

The words are so quiet Vax almost doesn't catch them. He reaches a hand up to curl over his little girl's soft, wispy hair. There is so much suffering in this world; how is a man meant to keep such pain from his daughter? It is like stemming the tides with his bare hands.

He kisses the shell of Keyleth's ear. "We will go together. As a family."

Keyleth nods, her head coming to rest on his shoulder once more. It scares him, her quiet, her stillness. She may have cried herself to exhaustion now, but he knows that the eye of the hurricane has not yet passed over this house, that winds of grief strong enough to pull the cottage apart stone by stone are still howling in the distance. And somewhere, in the midst of such a maelstrom, she is supposed to become a queen, to lead her people into the next chapter of their story. What terrible things we demand of each other, he thinks as he watches tiny eyelids grow heavier and heavier in Keyleth's arms. What terrible, terrible things.

#critcal role #critical role fic #cr fic #vaxleth #vaxleth fic #vaxleth au #vox machina #vox machina fic #vox machina au #tlovm #tlovm fic #my fair lady #go on claim my heart #my fic #ps if you're reading this #today is my birthday

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