#a kid and seeing the lights through ny child eyes and you know | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imaginationmess · 3 years

Text

TAKE MY HAND (ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE) [BAKUGOU KATSUKI X READER]; TWO

Bakugou Katsuki X Reader

AGED UP AU!

Summary: When you take on the burden to keep the ones living safe, which causes you to become a traitor, but you had to pick a decision, and it cost their trust in you. You reverted to your old violent self. Months later, you find yourself face to face with your old friends. They want you to help them because they know you can handle yourself in this current state of the world. They are still ignorant of the state the world is. They have no idea how more dangerous it has become.

“We are still fucking fighting and won’t stop fighting. If you fucking give up, we lose!”

BEFORE READING! PLEASE READ DISCLAIMER!

Previously Chapter ONE; Masterlist

Chapter TWO

Word Count: 1,600+

Spoiler Alert for Anime watchers: There will be mention of Midoirya’s new quirks that haven’t been introduced in the anime.

Once the four of them have taken a shower and had time to discuss with each other weighing the pros and cons of trusting you. You did have a good record of keeping up with your promises before the incident where you betrayed all of their trust. It’s a tie between trusting you or not trusting you over a deal.

They are gonna reconsider the vote about it, later at night. They are all curious how you became a Mafia boss from just an original teenager who wanted to become a hero. To only become a cold killer and making a name for yourself years later.

They only have heard stories and rumors of the alias you go by.

Glitch.

A masked individual who is widely known for their cold,calculated mind and a heartless killer who didn’t care who gets caught in the crossfire. A leader who rapidly climbing up the ladder in the mafia world during the time of the apocalypse. A leader who became to hold more territory and killing off of other leaders to take their territory and expand their army.

A name alone made your enemies tremble in their boots.

They are hoping to get better judgment, seeing how things are run here.

The young boy that goes by the alias Speedy gave them a quick tour, but didn’t show the whole building due to being confidential from outsiders. He is just following orders. He was taking them to the cafeteria to grab something to eat to only notice where the children were eating all together were pointing at them. Most of them have eyes of admiration and pure awe looking at them.

“They are fans of you guys. They have seen the old video recording of previous sports festivals. We had to keep them somewhat entertained. Glitch got her hands on those old videos.” Speedy explains to continue to eat his soup.

The boys nod, understanding why the kids are so excited to see them in the flesh. It was weird, but somewhat comforting that the younger generation isn’t taught to hate heroes.

“I would keep those degrading comments of Miss Glitch to yourselves because the people who live here aren’t fans of heroes, much less of outsides. I heard you guys arguing earlier outside the room. You weren’t very quiet.” He looks at Bakugou in a way saying you are the loud one, before adding, “Everyone here would not agree on whatever image you decide to picture her.”

“Why wouldn’t they agree? Isn’t she a killer though?” Todoroki is just addressing the tension in the air. Midoriya and Kirishima choked on their food before coughing. They forgot Todoroki still struggles to read the social situations.

“Yes, she has killed many, but it is done to keep everyone safe. At the state of the world, it isn’t run by heroes who never got their hands dirty. It is run by killers because prison doesn’t exist. Who is gonna be the one to put those low lives underneath the ground? You guys never faced the true danger of the current state of the world. You are always protected just because you attend a prestigious school before the apocalypse hit.” Speedy spits out before taking a deep breath and just continues eating his food. His left hand was

“I apologized for his comment. We just have a history of them. It didn’t end on a good note. I know yo-.”

Speedy interrupts Midoriya by slams his spoon on the table before taking a deep breath to recollect himself.

“You don’t know any of our experiences. It was hell before Miss Glitch came to save us and took us in with no judgment. She taught us how to freaking survive by teaching us numerous tools such as self-defense and weapon handling. She never expected anything in return, unlike other mafia groups.”

The sound of a clap pauses the tension being created by five of them. The ex heroes in training look up to see meet the emotionless man covered with tattoos and scars. The same man who was within the room left to the minor from earlier. He placed a hand on top of Speedy head to ruffle his hair.

“Go ahead, eat with your sibling. Take a breather. I will take over making sure these little shits behave.” He removes his hand from his head before taking a seat beside the teenager.

“But-” Speedy was hesitant on leaving his position.

“It’s an order. Spend time with your sibling. Enjoy the night off.” The older man takes out a red apple from his pocket. Speedy stares at the four outside and gives a quick nod before taking his leave.

Bakugou Katsuki was staring at the man with suspicion as if he saw him before this mission. He wasn’t the only one who was thought so. Midoriya recalls those same tattoos, but it must have been a long time ago. He couldn’t easily recall. They were eating quietly until they finished.

“Let’s start ny introducing myself. I am Daichi. I am usually the one who runs this base when Miss Glitch isn’t present. It must have been your lucky day because you would have been tortured to death for trespassing.” The hairs behind their neck rise and getting goosebumps.

They sense malicious by the way he is sounding. Midoriya’s danger senses were activating and going crazy causing him to want to step away from him. It takes him back to when All For One and Stain’s presence.

Daichi’s yellow eyes stare at every one of them as he takes out a pocket knife directs it at Midoriya who was sitting in front of him. “The only reason you four are alive and even getting treated with special treatment is because of Miss Glitch. Step out of line, I wouldn’t hesitate to beat the shit of you wannabe heroes. That’s the only thing. I am allowed to do.” He swiftly put his pocket knife after cutting his apple into six pieces which fall on the napkin. He claps his hands together cutting through the tension for him to drop the act to replace it with a fake smile.

“Anyways comes to my question. What did you talk about with the young boy making them lose their composure?”

He was oblivious enjoying tormenting these wannabe heroes.

_______________________________________

Meanwhile, inside the hero’s refuge base where there is a tall metal barrier that runs underneath 20 feet underground.

There was a young man with black hair with his signature scarf, looking at a map looking where to travel to get more food and other resources. They are running out of places to investigate. The last 2 locations were a complete bust. It has been cleaned out completely. He is one of the leaders of the camp where they have stayed safe since the beginning of the apocalypse.

There was a knock on the wall, before someone coming in through the curtains. They pull a chair across from him, before taking a seat. They are twirling it around for them to rest their arms on the top of the chair.

“Aizawa, I can’t believe you took my suggestion seriously.” The young male with the purple bed hair as if he just rolled out of bed, comments. He has a small scar above his eyebrow. He has a few scars on his arms that have grown muscular.

“It was insane, but not outside of the possibilities.” Aizawa laid back in his chair and stares at his former student who is now somewhat a version copy of himself when it comes to fighting styles.

“Do you tell the trio? Whom they are gonna be meeting?” The purple-haired questions, not seeing they would be willing to see a former classmate that so-called became a traitor in their eyes.

“No. They wouldn’t be willing to do it despite us being a tight spot right now when it comes to resources.” Aizawa answers, before ruffling his hair and keeping his eyes closed. He is stressed out and not having a lot of options. They are running low on adults that were pro heroes. They have lost many throughout the apocalypse. Many of them abandon their original mission to save themselves.

The apocalypse revealed the true heroes who aren’t for the money. They are a good amount of pro heroes who got captured by mafia groups to have power. Some of them show over time randomly at their doorstep after being spared by the mask individual Glitch. That’s the only information they are allowed to share about their interaction with Glitch.

Aizawa and the other leaders of the camp believe the individual took them close enough for them to walk to their camp. Aizawa suspects it is one of his former students whom he didn’t have any contract ever since the infamous incident. Majorly of his students calls them to be traitors.

“I still don’t get why we never told the truth about what actually happened that day.” The purple-haired male looks to the side to see Eri outside away from any harm playing with Kota.

“Hitoshi, It was a quick agreement exchange of keeping our mouths close and follow whatever story they want to make up. She swore to keep her word on securing your guys safe within her presence.” Aizawa applies pressure on his forehead to relieve the headache.

Aizawa remembering back to the U.A dorms where you are smiling and being a normal teenager. The image of that student whom he watched over for months became dark. She was no longer a child, but an emotionless shell of what she should be.

The lifeless eyes staring back at him, covered in bruises and blood that wasn’t her own. She was carrying unconscious Eri. You were bathed by your enemy’s blood. The remaining light of innocence in your eyes had vanished from existence. It only reveals just cold, calculated eyes that were staring at his soul.

“Aizawa.”

💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣

I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!

Any thoughts/Feelings/Predictions that you have while out reading this chapter.

I would love to hear them! <3

If you wish to be tagged, do comment down below.

51 notes · View notes

dontbipanicjonsa · 3 years

Text

Dutiful Sansa Stark

Plus some extra stuff about perceptions and POV traps

Read under the cut-

Tyrion

"No," Sansa said at once. "You . . . you are kind to offer, but . . . there are no devotions, my lord. No priests or songs or candles. Only trees, and silent prayer. You would be bored."

"No doubt you're right." She knows me better than I thought. "Though the sound of rustling leaves might be a pleasant change from some septon droning on about the seven aspects of grace." Tyrion waved her off. "I won't intrude. Dress warmly, my lady, the wind is brisk out there."

He was tempted to ask what she prayed for, but Sansa was so dutiful she might actually tell him, and he didn't think he wanted to know.

xxx

He wondered what Sansa would do if he leaned over and kissed her right now. Flinch away, most likely. Or be brave and suffer through it, as was her duty. She is nothing if not dutiful, this wife of mine. If he told her that he wished to have her maidenhead tonight, she would suffer that dutifully as well, and weep no more than she had to.

Littlefinger

A true daughter would not refuse her sire a kiss, so Alayne went to him and kissed him, a quick dry peck upon the cheek, and just as quickly stepped away.

"How . . . dutiful." Littlefinger smiled with his mouth, but not his eyes.

xxx

She hugged him dutifully and kissed him on the cheek. "I am sorry to intrude, Father. No one told me you had company."

"You are never an intrusion, sweetling. I was just now telling these good knights what a dutiful daughter I had."

"Dutiful and beautiful," said an elegant young knight whose thick blond mane cascaded down well past his shoulders.

That's a lot of dutiful.

On the surface it seems like these two situations- one with Tyrion and one with LF- parallel each other; creepy, older men interested in Sansa think she's too 'dutiful' because she suffers through their attentions. However, when we dig deeper it becomes clear that the two situations actually contrast in subtle ways.

Tyrion

Tyrion calls her dutiful, but what duty is she fulfilling? She actually fails to fulfil her biggest duty to him i.e. having his babies (ew).

Or rather, she refuses to do her duty to him.

"On my honor as a Lannister," the Imp said, "I will not touch you until you want me to."

It took all the courage that was in her to look in those mismatched eyes and say, "And if I never want you to, my lord?"

His mouth jerked as if she had slapped him. "Never?"

Cue me falling ever deeper in love

This is a powerful scene. Tyrion is willing to give her an inch, but she goes and takes a mile. She could have just said "yes, I'll let you know when I want you" and then never let him know, but instead she said that. His plan was to postpone the consummation, but now she’s taken the opportunity to tell him that if she had her way, they would never consummate their marriage. He can still go through with it, but with this one statement (knowingly or unknowingly) she's put the onus of choice on him. He can still touch her, he can still consummate the marriage- but Sansa will never want him to. It’s still her ‘duty’ to suffer through it, but now any future sexual contact between them is undoubtedly in the non-con category.

That doesn't sound like Sansa is just reluctant to do her duty, it sounds like she's rejecting it.

In fact, Sansa is basically never shown to think about her 'duties' as his wife. Eating lunch with him may be her 'duty', but she isn't doing it for that reason. She's doing it because what other choice does she have?

Honestly I'm not sure where he even gets the idea that she's oh-so-dutiful, because as far as I can tell, she's really just doing the bare minimum she can get away with doing as his political-prisoner-child-bride.

Sansa does not, for a single second, give a flying fuck about her duty to Tyrion and I love her for it.

And yet, Tyrion's my-dutiful-wife false belief is what allows her to get away with planning her escape. Tyrion fails to be suspicious of her even when he absolutely should be re: that first quote.

So-

Tyrion likes to think Sansa is dutiful (for some reason).

Sansa is not dutiful.

Sansa doesn't seem to be aware that Tyrion thinks she is, but it works to her advantage nevertheless.

Littlefinger

Now in Littlefinger's case she really is playing the dutiful daughter.

This time, fulfilling her 'duty' as his daughter is in her best interest, because it acts as an excuse to avoid what he really wants from her. It's basically the reverse of the Tyrion Situation.

So-

Littlefinger thinks Sansa is dutiful because she is.

She's acting dutiful on purpose (to diffuse his sexual attraction (ew) towards her).

Clearly, it's working to her advantage.

Now, onto the extra stuff-

We have this-

Dontos chuckled. "My Jonquil's a clever girl, isn't she?"

"Joffrey and his mother say I'm stupid."

"Let them. You're safer that way, sweetling.

xxx

"The g-g-godswood, my lord," she said, not daring to lie. "Praying . . . praying for my father, and . . . for the king, praying that he'd not be hurt."

"Think I'm so drunk that I'd believe that?" He let go his grip on her arm, swaying slightly as he stood, stripes of light and darkness falling across his terrible burnt face. "You look almost a woman . . . face, teats, and you're taller too, almost . . . ah, you're still a stupid little bird, aren't you?

xxx

"There's to be so much, my lord. I have a little tummy." She fiddled nervously with her hair and looked down the table to where Joffrey sat with his Tyrell queen.

Does she wish it were her in Margaery's place? Tyrion frowned. Even a child should have better sense.

Sansa goes under the radar so well in KL because people think she's too stupid to do anything. Again, we see Tyrion, an overall smart guy, fail to be suspicious of Sansa's very suspicious behavior nevermind that she IS a child you asshole because he thinks she's stupid.

So-

People think Sansa is stupid

She's not stupid. We also don't see Sansa actively encouraging that perception, which makes sense because-

she doesn't need to. They do that all by themselves and

she's too busy believing she really is stupid, poor kid

3. It works to her advantage anyway.

Which leads me to-

"I forgot, you've been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell's daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head."

xxx

"Your Grace has forgotten the Lady Sansa," said Pycelle.

The queen bristled. "I most certainly have not forgotten that little she-wolf."

xxx

"The dwarf's wife did the murder with him," swore an archer in Lord Rowan's livery. "Afterward, she vanished from the hall in a puff of brimstone, and a ghostly direwolf was seen prowling the Red Keep, blood dripping from his jaws."

So-

People thinking Sansa murdered Joffrey with her witchy wolf ways.

She didn't.

???

I am SO looking forward to see where this goes.

More extra stuff-

This entire post grew out of me obsessing over this post.

It got me thinking that out of the six core characters, Sansa is the most observed one. We see her in real time through the chapters of other POV characters the most. I counted. My count can be up or down by about one or two chapters, but I have Sansa pegged at around 15 chapters, followed by Tyrion at 11, then A*ya (around 9), then Jon (around 8), then Bran (4), and then D*ny (0). This is exacerbated by the fact that Sansa has some of the least number of POV chapters of the 'core six'. This means that-

We see Sansa more (or at more than others) from other POVs than her own. In other words, we get to be in Sansa's head less and in other characters' head thinking about her more (unlike most other main characters).

This plays a BIG ROLE in her POV trap, which is pretty much the opposite of D*ny's POV trap in terms of both what it is hiding and how

Perception and reality play a very obvious and direct part in Sansa's story, both her own perceptions and others' perceptions of her.

The Vale arc changes everything though. Now suddenly-

She's surrounded by an entirely new cast of people

She's the only POV character in the location

She has an entirely new identity with none of the same pre-conceived biases attached (though there sure are other pre-conceived biases that go with her identity)

This has happened with other characters as well (Tyrion in ADWD, Arya in every other book), but the impact it has on our perception of her is unique. It's basically reversing everything her POV trap was previously built on.

Now, she is her own worst critic. Now, the thoughts that other POV characters have of her (Tyrion, Cersei) are increasingly muddled. Is she a murderous sorcerer, or a stupid little girl? Was she dutiful, or a scheming traitor? The correct answer is-

she was none of those things. Everyone is just....trapped by their own PoV?

#sansa stark #meta #anti sanrion #anti littlefinger

50 notes · View notes

tonystarkissist · 3 years

Text

“Didn’t know where else to go”/ Revenge - Villainous July

Part 11 of “Oh Sweet Child, The Things I’d Do for You...”

Summary: Tony's out of his element. He’s ignorant to many things in relation to offering someone else comfort, but closure and vengeance is one thing he’s damn good at.

Rating: Teen (For language and Thematic Material)

Warning: Self-loathing and lack of care for life, mentions of abuse, and slightly graphic dialogue towards the end (maybe too graphic, but I got caught up in the moment; sue me).

Word Count: 4.5k

Previous Chapter ~ Masterlist ~ Read on Ao3 ~ Next Chapter

Peter’s there for days, maybe weeks, he couldn’t keep track at this point. He’s glad he had the foresight to warn Ned of his absence. His friend would definitely be the leading cause behind filing a missing persons report, because he knows Beck wouldn’t do it, content to mooch off of CPS as long as possible. And Peter really didn’t need anyone out looking for him. He didn’t even want to think about the turmoil and stress that would ensue. He didn’t want to deal with it. Ever.

He just wanted to lie here on this couch forever, stare at the fire crackling in the fireplace and watch the orange light bleed through the darkness of Mr. Stark’s home. It reminded him of that night he’d followed Mr. Stark here… he missed him. Still.

He wasn’t afraid to admit it anymore at all; not even ashamed. He missed him. And he felt so incredibly guilty for turning the man’s world entirely upside down. If Peter hadn’t acted so carelessly none of this would be happening. Tony wouldn’t be on the run, Beck wouldn’t have found out about Spider-Man, and Peter wouldn’t be slowly starving to death, lying here on Stark’s couch, the licks of flames dancing up from the fire cradling him in a hypnotic trance.

There was food in the kitchen, he knew there was, but just the thought of food made him sick, and he knew if he did try to stand he wouldn’t have a chance at making it that far before passing out.

He’d long since accepted the fact that he’d die at a young age due to his vigilante hobby, but he must admit he never expected it to happen this young, especially not since Mr. Stark started showing up every moment he needed him. He hadn’t failed him once… until now. Now that Peter needs him… he’s not here. He stares down at the shattered face of the watch he’s been clutching in his hand since he arrived. Mr. Stark wasn’t coming back, and that was something Peter would have to accept. How could he come back, with all these people looking for him? It’d be impossible and probably the stupidest decision the man could make. But of course Peter’s still clinging to that childish hope that he’d see him again. Preferably before he wastes away here on this very couch.

Though at this rate, it didn’t seem like that was likely to happen. He didn’t even feel the pangs of hunger anymore, and he could feel his body slowly shutting down. It felt almost like a relief to be ridded of that constant ache in his stomach.

He’s been living off of that one school lunch meal for a week, and Peter could feel the definition of his bones when he ran a shaky hand over his ribs, or along his shoulder and arms. It wasn’t healthy by any means, but what did he care? There would be no “long run” to worry about, just the next couple of days before he peacefully slipped off to sleep into a gentle void of nothingness. And if this is what those last couple of days felt like… then he had nothing left to worry about.

He drifted off, muscles and body aching from lying in the same position he had been for days. He had nice dreams, most consisting of finally being with Aunt May again, and his parents. They were waiting for him when he arrived and he was so, so happy to see them, it brought tears to his eyes. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of doing this before. No one but Ned would’ve missed him… and Ned would get over it-- will get over it.

Something draws him out of his dream just before he falls too far, and at first he thought it was the usual convulsing of his stomach urging him to vomit up some bile, or perhaps the heat of a fever and a throbbing headache, but it was none of those.

Instead, it was a soft, light pressure against the side of his face. A small, calloused pad of warmth slowly stroking along his cheek, beneath his eye. It made his nose tickle, and his nostrils flared in response to the touch. His ears slowly cue in, and he’s hit with a sudden cacophony of noise. From the light sound of traffic several blocks down, and the small crackling of the dimming fire in the fireplace, all the way to the soft words belonging to a voice all too familiar, yet entirely unidentifiable.

“Pete?” The voice cracks with anxious distress. “C’mon Pete, wake up.”

Then there’s a gentle hand on his shoulder, and all feelings along his skin and limbs begin to return. He’s being shaken back and forth, head lolling from side to side, but his groggy mind confuses it with… he didn’t know what it was. He just knows that everything feels numb and sensitive all at the same time.

The warm embrace against the side of his face disappears, and something scratchy and pokey is pressed gently against his lips, urging them to part. “C’mon Pete,” the voice begs again.

His tongue felt heavy and thick, weighed down by congealed saliva, but the pressure broke past the barrier of his lips despite it. He still couldn’t force himself to open his eyes.

The potent taste of salt hits his tongue and it sends a sudden shock through his whole system, like it finally realized it was in the waking world. The groggy convulsion alerts the voice of his slight awareness and now his body is manhandled into a sitting position. Even though his eyes are beginning to peek open he has no strength left in his limbs to try and fight the external force. He’s leant up against a warm cushion-y surface, a heavy weight settling over his shoulders as the culprit for the salt is pushed past his lips once more.

He bites down slowly, crumbs falling off at the corners of his mouth and the voice from earlier is quick to praise him.

“Good job, kiddo. C’mon, just a little more.” The taste sits heavy in his mouth and it slowly grows soggy atop his tongue, which urges him to swallow it. And, it seemed that the moment it slid down his throat, his body remembered all that it was missing and he was hit with a sharp pang in his abdomen, and he’s quick to take another bite.

His head lolls to the side, the cracker pushed back against his mouth, and his forehead pressed against something warm, engulfing him with a strong whiff of aftershave and alcohol. And slowly he’s able to piece together the warm shape he’s pressed against: an arm around his shoulders, a solid body sitting beside him, and the sharp outline of a jaw propped atop his head. Meaning the warmth bringing life back to his frozen nose and face must be the neck and shoulder.

His mind can only conjure one person to picture with him in this scenario. However unrealistic it was.

“ ‘ny?” Most of it’s a groan, but it must’ve been articulate enough for the voice to understand, and he’s instantly blanketed in more warmth and praise, pulled even closer to the warm body.

“Yes! It’s me. It’s Tony, kid.” The jaw resting on his head moves slightly in a way he couldn’t fully discern, and it’s followed by a soft but strong protrusion pressing against the top of his head, warm air passing over his scalp in short spurts before the jaw returns to its place.

It makes Peter smile. He’s not entirely sure why yet, but the warmth that blooms across his chest enlivens him in a way he never thought he’d experience ever again.

He eats more crackers, and he sips water through a straw regularly pressed to his lips as well. He doesn’t know how many he eats or how much he drinks, but soon enough the feelings begin to slowly bleed back, urging life back into his limbs and his brain. His stomach wasn’t very happy, but that didn’t come as a surprise to him

“You feeling better kiddo? That’s almost the whole pack.” A heavy hand is pressed to his face, then migrates up to pet his hair. “I don’t know what’s good to feed ya when you’re like this. You gotta help me out here.”

“Mm,” Peter groans. He knows it's unhelpful, but his belly felt stuffed and now all he could think about was how cold he was. The penthouse was warm and cozy, but it seemed ever since he arrived, Peter still couldn’t shake that chill that had settled in his bones. The thought alone made him shiver.

“Are you still thirsty?” The voice sounded nervous. “Yeah, you’re probably still thirsty. Lemme go get some more water.” The body begins to move away, which meant so was the warmth.

A strong tremble travels along Peter’s body with nervous anticipation, the muscles in his fingers spasming to grip at the person desperately before they could leave him alone.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” A strong hand grabs his fingers, gripping them gently between their larger ones. “You with me? You okay?”

“Mm,” Peter replies unhelpfully once more. He may not be able to reason or ruminate just yet, but he does know that he’s cold. He grabs the fingers around his and holds on tight, searching out warmth once more by diving his head back towards the warm cushion-y barrier from before and rooting himself there.

“Okay, okay.” The arm around his shoulders moves to rub warmth into his other arm, encircling him completely in the embrace. “Why’d you do this to yourself, Pete?” The voice whispers, a palpable despair in their tone. “You scared me.”

“Mm,” Peter hummed, eyelids pulsing open and closed with a firm determination to remain awake. His vision was blurred with soft orange light and the hard blackness of shadows. A sight he’s come to find as quite familiar and ironically comforting.

He feels better this time when he is pulled to sleep. Not so much on the brink of death anymore, but he feels he’s still teetering precariously close to that cliff. Though despite the nonsense the thought made, he knew the voice and the warmth would hold on tightly, and they wouldn’t let him fall.

***

He wakes up, warm and comfy in a nice big bed. He rolls onto his side with a groan, stomach screaming with hunger, and he lifts a hand to rub his fingers over his burning eyes. His entire body felt like it’d been wrung through a trash compactor. And he didn’t know how he ended up in a bed… He opened his eyes and looked around the room, then cursed under his breath. He was in Tony’s bed. In all the time he’s stayed hidden away in this penthouse, he’d stayed on that damned couch. He didn’t know what had occured last night to result in him crawling his way into this room.

His muscles felt weak and very unsteady, but he forced himself out of bed anyway. He needed to get out of that room, he needed to get back to the couch. He struggled opening the door, and he clutched at the wall as he stumbled and tripped his way back towards the main room. It didn’t even occur to him to question the light bleeding down the hall via the opened curtains scattering around the place. This morning wasn’t making any sense anyway, it didn’t matter.

He was a little more than halfway there when he collapsed, his left leg giving out first, tripping up his balance and toppling him to the wooden floor. He lands with a heavy bang, and he winces at the dull throb that resulted in his side.

“Peter?!” Loud footsteps follow the exclamation, and Peter’s entire body seizes with shock.

Was that??

It was.

Tony appears from around the corner seconds later, crouching in front of him with bulging plastic bags draped from his arms, hands reaching out towards him to help him off the ground.

“What in the world are you doing out of bed, kid? I told you to stay put.” And before Peter could even put up a protest, he was being lifted into the air and led back down the hall the way he came, back into Tony’s room.

It was like he’d just returned from the dentist, cotton stuffed in his mouth, tongue paralyzed, and brain conjuring weird loop-de-loops because he was still high on the pain meds. Because Mr. Stark was here. Carrying him.

If he wasn’t so startled and shocked by the man’s sudden appearance, he’d surely be mortified, but all he could do was stare dubiously at the side of his face as they walked. Then he was being lowered gently back into the bed, and as soon as Tony released him he dropped the bags from his arms and they hit the floor with muted thumps. Giving the man the freeness to meticulously tuck the sheets and cover back over Peter’s frailing body.

Any semblance of flesh had withered off his bones, thanks to his recent lack of appetite.

There was a harsh line molded between Tony’s brows as he messed anxiously with the sheets, and then turned his fixations towards the bags he’d just dropped. Peter didn’t speak a word during the entire ordeal, still unsure if this was just some weird dream or not.

“I picked up some stuff from the convenient store down the block. This’ll do much better than those Saltines from last night.” He lifts up the bottle of red gatorade to show, cracks open the lid, then plops a little bendy straw into the opening. “I would’ve gotten the ones with the sippy cup caps, y’know,” he rambled, sitting down on the mattress beside him and holding the straw up to his lips with shaky fingers, “but this was all they had. I’m assuming your favorite color is red, but I got all the other colors too.” Just as Peter takes a tentative sip, Tony pulls it back looking as if he was in the midst of a panic. “Damn, I should’ve asked you what flavor you wanted. Do you want blue instead? I can get the blue one,” Tony bends down so quickly it almost gives Peter whiplash, hand and head disappearing beside the bed, the rustling of plastic bags sounding during the frantic search. Then Tony sits up to brandish the blue gatorade,offering it towards him instead. “Or I've got green… and the white one.”

They stare at each other for several moments, and Peter’s not entirely sure what Tony expects him to say, so he settles with something simple.

“I-I like red.”

The straw is back at his lips and Tony’s nodding a little too feverishly. “Yeah, yeah, see I knew that.”

Peter sips on the drink, Tony watches him, and that little worried crease between his eyebrows doesn’t go away.

When he’s finished, he pulls away from the straw and leans back against the pillow, finally feeling a bit refreshed. Just as Tony begins to insist he drink more, Peter asks his question. “What are you doin’ here?”

Tony scoffs at him, an offended frown coming over his face. “This is my house. I should be the one asking you that question.”

And really, that was a good point. Peter didn’t know why he was here either. He drops his gaze to stare at his lap. He didn’t mean to worry the man, or get in his way… he just wanted someplace warm to stay.

“‘M sorry.” He mumbled softly, a heaviness overcoming his eyes with the pressure building behind them.

“Shit, kid, I didn’t mean-- I didn’t mean it like that.” Tony’s hot palm presses against the side of his neck, thumb dipping under his chin to force his gaze back up. “I’m just worried ‘bout you. I came home and found you on my couch, passed out and-and small as a twig, pale, and I didn’t know what to do.”

Peter leans into the touch without thought, absorbing the tender affection like he was starved for it.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” Peter whispers, tears finally beginning to fall from his eyes. The thumb tucked beneath his chin quickly moves to soothe over his cheeks, brushing the fallen tears away. It forces a smile from Peter, a bittersweet, desperate smile, formed with quivering lips.

Tony rips his hand away, suddenly and violently, like he’d only just realized what he was doing, stumbling away from the edge of the bed. He shook out the hand that’d been against Peter’s cheek like it had been infected with an abhorrent substance, and the man turned his back to Peter, other hand lifting to run through his hair while he cursed under his breath.

He avoids Peter’s eyes when he does turn back around. He points towards the gatorade sitting on the bedside table and clears his throat before delivering his instructions. “Drink all of that. I’ll be back soon.”

He shuffles from the room, grabbing one of the plastic bags on his way, and Peter can hear his distant mutterings under his breath as he leaves the room. It left an odd sense of emptiness in him, and he turned to look at the small bottle of red gatorade.

He didn’t reach for it, opting to watch the door. Awaiting Tony’s return.

Tony reappeared after several minutes, looking much less perturbed than when he had left. He came bearing soup and he set it down beside the empty bottle. He kept his distance this time though. The worried line between his brows were gone, taking upon an unperturbed expresion… simply gesturing with his head towards the steaming bowl.

He pulls up a chair, and when Peter still hadn’t made a move for the soup and Tony remained under his unyielding stare. After several more moments, and Peter had yet to move, Tony reached over to place the bowl gently in his lap. It wasn’t full by any means, so Peter didn’t worry about it spilling.

“Peter, you have to eat,” he nods down towards the bowl again. “And while you eat, I want you to tell me everything that happened while I was gone. Everything that got you to this point.” He waves his finger in a circular motion in gesture to his body, fixing Peter with a stern look, and Peter drops his head shyly.

“Can-can I eat first?”

“Sure.”

Peter eats as slow as possible under Tony’s watchful eye. Sadly, however, there was only a finite amount of soup and when Peter was finished, Tony was ready to talk, taking the bowl from his hands and putting it to the side.

“Alright, kid, spill.” Tony had his serious frown on; the same one Peter remembered he wore during the couple lectures he gave in the past. “No skimping on details.”

Peter turns his gaze away from him, skin prickling with anxiety. “My foster dad found out I was Spider-Man… an-and he thought I was working for you. I just… it made him really angry and I just wanted to get away! So, I came to look for you, but you weren’t here and I thought you were never coming back…”

He’s bowing his head to hide his tears, meaning he didn’t realize Tony had gotten out of his chair until he was settling beside him on the bed, and Peter’s head snapped up to look at him when he felt the matress dip. The man sat right beside him, shoulder pressing up against his, and the worry line making a reappearance.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you like that.”

“I-I’m not your responsibility,” Peter argues, “you shouldn’t feel sorry. I’m the one that screwed everything up and ruined your life.” He felt the trembling in his lips begin once more and he turns his head to hide it. “Everything that’s happened… to you… to me. It’s all my fault.”

Strong fingers grab his chin and force his gaze back, and Tony’s glaring down at him. “No, none of this is your fault.”

“Are you stupid?!” Peter bites, cheeks heating up with both frustration and embarrassment. He shakes off Tony’s grip on his chin. “You told me to stay away from those weapons, but I didn’t listen! And then I end up getting into trouble, and you felt the need to come rescue me!” He grips his hair, pulling at the curls in frustration and turning back to his lap as he continues to ramble. “And-and it’s my fault that I left my suit on my floor before bed. So it’s my fault when Beck found them,” he turns his gaze back up to Tony, tears now flowing freely from his eyes, “and it’s my fault that I didn’t fight back. I’m Spider-Man… it’s-it’s, he should have no power over me and-and he only has it because I’m scared.”

Tony’s grip is softer this time when he grabs his chin.

“Hey,” he soothes, lifting his other hand to wipe away the tears, “don’t you ever blame yourself for this. You’re a kid, I’m an adult, and it’s my job to keep you safe.” His gaze turns steely, and Peter feels his grip tighten slightly on his chin. “I just need to know one thing Peter… did he hurt you?”

The silence and the immediate influx of tears was apparently enough confirmation for the man, and he instantly releases Peter, a tight growl rumbling through his chest as he pushes himself off the bed. Peter sees the orange flareup appearing above the man’s collar, climbing up the veins of his neck. He knew well enough to know Tony’s intentions.

“No,” he chokes, diving after the man. He grabs a strong fistful of his shirt before he could get too far, and Tony turns to look down at him, his blue eyes vivid as ever. “Please don’t…”

“Peter,” Tony growls, a tight rumbling passing through him. “He’s not getting away with this. He’s not getting away with laying his hands on you.”

“Please…” Peter begged desperately. “Please don’t kill him… Please.” He’s crying in earnest now, and Tony takes pity.

He grabs Peter’s hand, gently prying it from his clothes to hold firmly in his palm. “Pete.”

“Please don’t leave,” Peter tries.

He couldn’t stand the thought of being responsible for Beck’s death, because then the world’s point would be proven. Spider-Man was just as bad as Iron Man. Any notion of ‘hero’ was dead.

He knows Tony will kill him. He can see it in his eyes. The rage.

“Please don’t leave me.”

“Peter…” Peter’s tempted to label the sound that emits from the man as a soft whine as Tony slowly sits himself back on the mattress, never releasing his hold of Peter’s hand.

“Stay.” He tugs Tony closer. If he was close enough to hold onto, Peter could keep him from leaving.

“Okay, okay,” Tony relents, scooting back up beside him. Peter doesn’t risk doing anything more than pressing his shoulder against him. The touch was enough to draw him comfort for the moment. Just enough to lull him back into a peaceful sleep.

***

Beck’s seething, fisting the red cloth in his hand. Peter was gone… and he was in deep shit. There was no way CPS wouldn’t investigate him after this. He stares at the undecorated Christmas Tree standing lifelessly in the corner as he downs another swig from his bottle. He grimaces. He didn’t usually go immediately for the hard liquor, but the week had been particularly difficult for him. After his Boss found out about Tony Stark being alive… it had been chaotic. And it never failed to construct a headache waiting just for him at the end of the day.

There were two sharp knocks at the door, and he flinched in surprise, eyes darting to the clock hung on the wall. 10:48. Who the hell was at his door so late at night?

Before he even had a chance to stand from his easy chair, his door blew in.

He leaped from the chair, dropping everything in his hands during his frantic stumble. The bottle shattered on the floor, and the suit soaked up the spilt liquid. He shouted in surprise and stared at the man standing in his doorway.

“S-Stark?”

The man in question steps past the threshold, onto the fallen door. His eyes glowed, his entire body illuminated like he was under the light of a strong fire. He doesn’t say anything, but Beck thinks he knows why he was here.

Beck slowly moves himself away from the room, backpedaling as quickly as possible, tripping over his own drunken steps. Stark moves closer.

“Hey, Stark. What are- what are you doin’ here?”

“I think you know.” His voice was gravelly and strained, and Beck shuddered.

“I-I really don’t,” he lies. He crashes into the decorative table set up at the beginning of the hall. A potted plant and several books crashing to the floor.

Stark steps closer, chin dipping to his chest which only highlights his sharp, shining glare, his head tilting only slightly to the side.

“I reeally think you do.”

Beck falls to the ground.

And as Tony begins to gain on him, he starts his rambling. “Whatever that kid told you was a total lie, I swear. He makes up all kinds of stories! I’ve been nothing but hospitable--” Tony grabs him by the throat, lifting him clean off the ground with nothing more than his human arm. Then he squeezes, bringing their faces close as Beck chokes desperately around his hand.

“It’s too late,” he whispers into his face, voice calm and soothing, “I remember you… how much trouble you were back in the day.” A dangerous grin flitted over Stark’s face. “Nothing you say will get you out of this. I’m going to make you feel every bit of pain my kid suffered at your hands. In fact, if it wasn’t for that kid, I’d slit you open and splash around like a child playing in a puddle, and string your guts around that tree like decorative garlands. You best be glad I’m a man of my word...”

***

When Peter blinks awake, his head is lying on the pillow, blankets pulled up around his shoulders and Tony sat beside him. Head thrown back against the headboard, mouth open, snoring, and a discarded tablet hanging loosely in his grip atop his lap.

Peter smiles, snuggling further into the pillow and pulling the blankets tight around him.

He didn’t think to pay any mind to the small splatter of red on the cuffs of his shirt.

Next Chapter

@multiverse-irondad-july

#Villainous July 2021 #VillainousJuly2021 #villain tony stark #extremis tony stark #dark tony stark #protective tony stark #insecure tony stark #fluff #hurt/comfort #hurt peter parker #sad peter parker #irondad #protective dad mode #villain appreciation

30 notes · View notes

reversecreek · 3 years

Text

pops hip n winks at the dash. haaaaiiii. me again. i’ve honestly missed playing lana fr a while she’s one of. my most treasured muses bc she’s jst a silly n vivacious ball of sunshine or alternatively? a train wreck depending on which way u turn her in the light..... i actually hv two playlists made fr her n one is rly old bt it’s more like. songs that Remind me of her which u can find here n then here is more like. stuff u’ll most often catch her blasting on her record player as she dances around in her underwear w the curtains open. OH and here is her pinterest 🍓⚡

* kristine froseth, cis female + she/her | you know lana jameson, right? they’re twenty-three, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, a few hours? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to play that funky music by wild cherry like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole cherry red gym socks worn with nothing else, doodling penises in the condensation of a stranger’s car window, a bumper sticker on the back of a convertible cadillac that says ‘scrappy doo is a filthy slut’ thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is june 2nd, so they’re a gemini, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt, she/her )

HISTORY:

lana grew up in a big house in albany, NY. i picture it w dark oak floors n lots of light furniture. albums framed on walls. mayb some rolling stone covers too frm way bk when of the bands her dad’s label signed. kind of like… a rock star palace w no evidence of children at all. i think i described it best in one of lana’s self paras once when i said the garden ws “as big as it was unloved”

lana’s mum victoria (vic) ws a music journalist w a pretty fruitful career ahead of her when she met lana’s dad richard (rich). his record label ws jst starting out, founded on the coattails of his wealthy best friend’s (jensen peters) investment w his other best friend (who he jst calls knoxville). it rocketed to success when they signed poppy injects, a rock band w an electric stage presence, n vic ws drawn to the glitz n glamour of a man tht ws at the helm of his aspiring industry. their love ws very impulsive, all or nothing right frm the start, n it ws almost like she ws mre in love w his accomplishments n what he represented than him.

(DRUGS TW) anyway so jameson records repped a few rock bands bk in the eighties, altho poppy injects r who they’re mostly known fr, namely bc of hw brightly they crashed n burned. they were a big chart success bt the lead singer hd quite an intense struggle w heroin (wsnt rly subtle abt it either while he ws in the public eye as u cn probably imagine frm such an on-the-nose band name) n he ws always in n out of the papers. it eventually brought down his career n it ws a big publicity nightmare

lana pretty much… grew up around figures like this throughout childhood. real characters who wld kind of… b extremely volatile n destructive abt their troubles. the jameson house was an open one as welcoming clients went n a lot of parties took place there. a lot of the time musicians wld b snorting lines in the kitchen when she wnted to grab a bowl of cereal fr breakfast n it was just. a very strange environment fr a child to grow up in. more zoo than home. more shaken snow globe than resting place. (END OF TW)

(ABORTION REFERENCE) her parents always kind of jst… didn’t like her much. her older brother caleb ws unplanned bt they sort of welcomed the surprise more bt… quickly realised they weren’t cut out fr parenthood n then when lana came as another surprise 3 yrs later they didn’t even try to hide their resentment abt the situation. her mum ws actually booked in to have an abortion bt cldnt go through with it at the last minute. once when lana ws a kid she asked her why she’s so cold towards her she jst turned her head frm her dresser, looked at her, told her abt this n said “idk why i didn’t go”. lana didn’t kno wht to say to tht so she jst left her room n closed the door (END OF REFERENCE)

(DISSOCIATION TW) bc of the intensity of her parents ignoring her growing up lana adopted this sense of like…. she didn’t rly kno what it ws bt it ws a delusion of sorts where she thought she ws a ghost bc she gt this strange outside feeling. she’d jst sort of… drift around the halls w no-one acknowledging her n sometimes she ws jst convinced she wsnt actually there or they cldnt see her n she ws jst haunting the house frm a previous family. (END OF TW) her imagination festered an explanation out of smthn she didn’t understand essentially. lana used her imagination to do this a lot growing up. it ws kind of like the band aid she slapped over everything. after all she wasn’t alone if she was sword fighting imaginary pirates dwn the hallway with a poker from the fireplace.

the one saving grace tho tht sort of?? gt her thru this n made her feel Seen ws caleb. lana quite genuinely hs always thought the sun shines out of her older brothers ass like she jst thinks. he’s the best person in the entire world. wld b rly bewildered if anyone questioned tht. he wld always look out for her n cut the crusts off her sandwiches (he’d cook fr them most of the time bc their parents were too busy/didn’t care to) n sometimes wld even sleep at the bottom of her bed curled up like a guard dog. it ws always lana n caleb n his best friend tommy against the world in tht house (tommy lived next door bt was always over bc he had very strict parents tht he found suffocating)

(ARMY MENTION) SO when tommy announced tht he’d signed up to the army (bc of pressures from tommy’s military dad to fulfil some kind of stupid “legacy” tommy didn’t even care abt) n caleb said he was going with him lana ws understandably…….. completely blindsided. she ws rly upset tht they were leaving n was kind of like “wtf why are u doing this like what do u even think this is gna solve” etc n begged caleb not to leave her there on her own n jst to not sign up in general bc tommy had to bt he didn’t listen.

ERM i won’t go into it but it didn’t turn out well as u can probably imagine bc the army is a terrible industry n caleb had to return home without tommy. he wasn’t the same after that. (END OF MENTION)

what’d been a rly close relationship before where he ws basically like a surrogate father figure to lana was Not there any more. he ws rly withdrawn n always pushing her away n snapping at her for the sake of getting her to leave him alone. on top of this lana had a lot of shit go down while he was away n rly just shouldn’t have been a kid alone in tht house. regardless lana thought if she kept grinning as wide as she cld she’d convince caleb to join in too. maybe if she seemed fine n happy he’d take the lead. maybe she’d believe it too n start to feel it n everything could go bk to how it was before her world became so different. lana liked the way the sky flipped when she tipped her head back on the swings bt this was different. everything was upside down bt this didn’t make her belly feel like she’d swallowed a butterfly and it wasn’t funny bt still, she kept laughing. always desperate to find something to laugh at n if she couldn’t find it she invented it. as long as ur laughing the world can’t b that bad.

she ws always well liked in school bc she jst tended to treat everyone like they were bffs no matter who like u cld have literally bumped shoulders w her once in the corridor n she’d be like OMG HAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII let’s kiss<3 n like she ws a huge notorious flirt w any n all as well as incredibly impulsive n jst. wild honestly to put it simply too bt things like. changed a bit frm 16 onwards. (HYPERSEXUALITY & IMPLIED TRAUMA TW) she jst became far more reckless honestly n like....... jst didn’t rly seem to care after a certain point abt herself too much.... got herself in a bunch of bad situations.......... kind of jst flung herself to the wolves numerous times without any caution abt the way they’d bite. formed a lot of self destructive habits one of which ws cruising craigslist personals fr random hook-ups n like. she literally cld have wound up in a ditch somewhere honestly it’s a shock she hasn’t. despite various dips n inclines in her journey navigating this side of her it’s very much still present in her life to this day n she struggles to kno hw to control herself at points. sometimes she feels like a melting candle tht needs moulding by thumbs until it can form a person again. sometimes she’s only sure she’s real when she’s being touched. (END OF TW)

ANYWAY. laughs nervously. went to college to study dance bc she’s always loved dance in general bt specifically ballet (despite definitely not hving the discipline for it) n honestly this was both good n bad fr her. had a whole string of terrible heartbreaking relationships bc she tends to fall into those hard n fast n they were w a lot of bad people fr like 98% of the time. she kind of learned more abt what love is during her time there tho which is a gd thing bt she still isn’t very good at knowing hw to believe she deserves it so it’s a process. she hd fun tho. threw 498572598475 outrageous n elaborately themed parties. ws friends w pretty much everyone on campus.

despite a strained relationship w her brother n having to go home to visit n check on him whenever he got rly bad it ws the first time it actually felt like she’d found a home in a lot of rly loving n genuine friendships n lana will never forget hw much that experience meant to her even if she definitely struggled there too. college felt like a place she belonged n then suddenly she couldn’t belong there any more n there was a big sense of floundering in that. like where do u go now when u’ve never known home elsewhere? how do u happily go out into the world if it means leaving ur world behind?

she applied to a dance company in LA n fell in w a pretentious art scene there full of wannabe andy warhols n the like. became a makeshift edie sedgwick to some guy w dyed white hair n the idea his every concept was revolutionary when rly he jst shot her dancing barely clothed splashing around in a random fountain in his friend’s mansion on an ancient film camera. she’d spend her days floating around on lilo’s and prancing in feather boas and racing with glitter leftover frm last night in her leotard w smudges of faint red lipstick to barely make her job on time. always a sexy train wreck bt this time? make it hollywood.

(IMPLIED ALCOHOLISM TW) i won’t lie to u lana hs always partied way too hard bt then partying way too hard turned into slurping merlot thru a crazy straw shaped like a flamingo at 4 in the afternoon wearing penis novelty sunglasses n it wasn’t quite so much of a party when u were doing it on ur own. this rly snowballed into place in college bt carried on n wound up getting her fired from the dance company bc she turned up to rehearsals drunk one too many times n they didn’t allow fr sloppiness like tht. it was a “professional operation” that didn’t “accept that kind of behaviour” bt lana was jst like ummmmmmmmm that’s totally dramatic btw way to spank me in the town square like i’m gale w a raw ass n back in the hunger games bt ok sure i’m out ig. BOOP! (literally booped the director on the nose before leaving) (END OF TW)

honestly hd no idea what to do w herself after her job fell thru in LA n was pretty embarrassed actually upon sobering up the nxt day. cldn’t bring herself to tell her friends for a hot minute bc she felt like a failure or smthn n she was meant to be living this glamorous life out there being the classic wild n silly n fun Lana Jameson. cldn’t figure out how to repackage it into a funny story tht wouldn’t worry ppl. eventually wound up jst caving n telling her closest besties (shoutout freya n rosa) bc she ws hving a weird time dating losers n randomly living in LA even tho she didn’t kno why she was there any more after losing the job n they were jst like. fk it then. jst come here. we’re in irving. and so? mizz jameson packed her bags....

PERSONALITY:

always smells vaguely of wild cherries or strawberry starburst or jst the candy aisle in general. if she ws a vinyl record she’d b this one n she’d only play good vibrations by the beach boys, dancing on my own by robyn, play that funky music by wild cherry, femme fatale by the velvet underground n (i can’t get no) satisfaction by the rolling stones

the jameson family r pretty well off n bc of her relation to such a big music industry figure she’s hung out w a fair few relatively high rep ppl thru her teens. mostly kids of celebrities n stuff like tht. she amassed a bit of an instagram following #nepotism bt also fr her style (v penny lane-esque in some aspects. lots of fur cuff trimmed jackets bt then also jst…. a wild combination of everything honestly. pastel faux fur coats, seventies style platforms, bright red cowboy boots, pink fishnet tights, holographic stickers of planets on her cheek n glitter used like highlight, 90% of the time a red lip) n bc she’s not gna make ur eyes bleed to look at or anything let’s b real

growing up lana was always a huge social butterfly. knew everyone n everyone knew her. she ws one of those girls tht ws kind of impossible to ignore or forget. very animated, always made u feel like u were the centre of the universe whenever she spoke to u, always made it feel like u were best friends even if ud only spoken to her once.

deliberately puts on tht kind of Magnetic Alluring Act tht femme fatales wear in movies w most ppl. kind of…. is always playing A Role of the person tht she wants to b seen as. hates being sad n always wnts to be happy / making ppl happy. chameleons to situations. feels like she’s performed as the vivacious n fun loving Lana Jameson fr so long tht she doesn’t rly kno who she is beneath tht bt she isn’t too keen to find out. sometimes gets glimpses n feels the urge to close her eyes.

she’s always been rly spontaneous n adventurous. always doing something weird n wild every weekend. she has ten thousand ridiculously absurd n chaotic stories. she’s like oh ya this one time this guy made me ride him with a daddy saddle like i was woody and he was bullseye. he literally made me call him bullseye. or she’s like. oh ya once i had to run barefoot thru a cabbage patch bc this one farmer wanted to have a threeway w me n my friend tht we met off craigslist n every framed photo in his house was a pig dressed up in cosplay bt honestly they were kind of cute n he was sexy aside frm the murderous vibes n the fact he kept calling me babe which i’m pretty sure means he wanted to dress me up next bt like whatever honestly.... she tells jst the most batshit stuff n the person she’s telling it to is left blinking like. wtf.

uncontrollably flirty. insanely confident. cld make a joke out a paper bag n will try. she tends to laugh when she feels like crying n has a smile brighter than a ray of texas sunshine.

likes to roller skate n hs a red pair she’ll glide around in at night lit up by amber street lamps breath sticky w the taste of wine n lollipops probably heading to a random hookups. who needs ubers?

always dapples her fingers thru the breeze when she’s driving in a car w the window down. honestly likes dangling her whole body halfway out too. she almost always has some sort of sweet on her, whether it’s sour haribo cherries or strawberry lollipops.

luvs bowie (ONLY aesthetically) n prince (wholeheartedly) n madonna (completely) n anyone tht’s a vintage style icon w little care fr what ppl think.

daisies n poppies r her fav flowers bc daisies r wild n overlooked n poppies r the first thing u look at in a green field. she’s had like 8472493874 ‘relationships’ n none of them hav lasted beyond a month / hav been terrible / hav seen her being treated badly / she’s cheated on them. honestly it’s like a burning train wreck but u can’t quite tear ur eyes away. often the heart of many sordid gossip scandals.

PLOTS:

TBA bc she’s only jst arrived in town i won’t lie to u all but i’m gna whip things up on here anyway n link in chat w updates at some point........ that said? lana is insatiable n it isn’t rly unlikely tht she cld’ve bumped into ur muse in a grocery store aisle n somehow a wild spontaneous adventure spawned frm that alone.......... if u have any immediate ideas we can discuss 😋

#irvingintro #drugs tw #dissociation tw #hypersexuality tw #trauma tw #alcoholism tw #army mention tw #abortion mention tw #i won't lie to u all i like cleaned up this intro bt it's mostly old writing so forgive n overlook any rusty parts.......#it was a bit sickening hving to reread it bt. it does the job.

9 notes · View notes

jawira707 · 4 years

Photo

Miraculous Ladybug New York Special fanfic - On the Plane

Info: I read yesterday that some people wanted a sweet Adrinette fic, where they fall asleep next to each other on the plane like they did in the Startrain episode. So I hoped someone would write that. Then I thought, maybe I should write that. This is my first fanfic in nearly one year I think, but why not, why not...I hope you like it! (Spoilers (even though no major spoilers) from the NY special!)

Word Count: 1462

Summary: Adrien had never fallen asleep on a plane, Plagg was on the Titanic and Mari had no earplugs with her...but luckily, they had each other.

Pairing: Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Warning: None

(Disclaimer: this fanfic is not sponsered by Air France, but I want them to know despite my critique they’re still 100 times better than American Airlines. Merci)

Title: On the plane

Adrien had never fallen asleep on a plane. No matter on how many trips he had gone, to the US, to Italy, even to Australia and China - mostly business related traveling in first class because his father insisted on that-, he just couldn’t get used to the dry air and the constant noise of the machine. He vividly remembered being scolded for not trying to rest and being too tired for shootings after they had landed, but luckily Gorilla didn’t care, absorbed in his own little word, listening to his meditation podcast, while Adrien kept moving around in his seat trying to find a more comfortable position. He was tired of scrolling through the entertainment program on his screen and additionally, he started to feel cold.

Looking around in the dark, he tried to find anyone that was not asleep, another classmate to talk to, but all the lights were out and he could hear snoring all around. I should have stayed in Paris, he thought guiltily, I should have convinced my father to let me stay. But how? Another voice in his hand, that suspiciously sounded like Plagg, replied. If Ladybug ever finds out, she would be so mad at him. Putting his head in his hands Adrien felt terribly alone, wishing once again his partner knew his real identity so he could explain to her why everything was so complicated at times.

„You’re here for Marinette and your friends too, remember“ The little whisper in his pocket really came from Plagg this time.

„Sorry, did I wake you up?“

„Sleeping with you is like being on the Titanic. And trust me I would know, because I was there! Do you ever sit still?“

„My leg has fallen asleep“

„I have never heard that human body parts sleep separately…“

„It’s just a saying Plagg“

„Well, then here’s another one. Stop worrying so much! Your friends are happy you came“

„You just want cheese and you know it“

„Sure. I live in France to go for cheese to the United States…“

„But you said-…“

„I want you to have some fun, kid, just relax!“

„I can’t“ Adrien gave back, tiredly. Finally giving up on trying, he stood up and started walking back and forth between the rows. The sun hadn’t risen yet and there were still hours to fly. Yay.

Suddenly he saw someone getting up a few rows in front of him. The person was stretching and didn’t seem to be headed to the bathroom or elsewhere. As he approached, he could already tell who it was. He felt a wave of relief wash over him, already not feeling that abandoned as he had a minute before. Maybe he could talk to her? He just had to be careful not to startle her.

„Hey, Marinette“ he called out quietly.

„Hi? Oh…WOAH…I mean, hi Adrien!“ Marinette nearly stumbled as she turned around quickly, her elbow accidentally making contact with her seat neighbor. Her face had turned the color of deep red, but luckily in the dark, no one noticed. „What are you doing here? I mean, it’s nice that you came, it’s not that I don’t want you here, I just-„

„I couldn’t sleep“ Adrien gently interrupted her nervous rambling. „Why are you up? You’re not feeling air sick, do you?“ He remembered her mentioning this earlier, but Marinette seemed confused.

„Me? Oh…no, it’s a…calm flight“

„I’m glad to hear that“

For a moment there just stood next to each other in silence and Adrien wondered if she wanted to sit down again and didn’t do so out of courtesy. „Well, if you would like to sleep some more…“, he started, but didn’t finish because she shook her head.

„No, at least not here, our principal is snoring like a champion.“

Adrien chuckled at this.

„Oh..Adrien?“ He nodded, wondering why she suddenly sounded concerned. „Sorry, but are you feeling air sick?“ She felt stupid for not asking – he always was so caring, complimenting her and asking how she was doing. Maybe he had walked here not to chat, but to consult one of their teachers which were sitting next to her. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Next, she almost flinched away before she realized he had put a hand on her shoulder to reassure her.

„Ah non. Thank you for asking. I’m used to flying, I just don’t like it. It’s loud and stuffed…I know, I sound like a spoiled child“ He chuckled again,making her heart flutter. „Normally, I fly in first class. I’m more chatty when I get tired.“

„Do you want me to come with you? I mean …sit next to you?“ Wait, did she really just asked him that?!

„That would be great.“

„Let’s go“ Wow, Marinette congratulated herself, maybe it was because she couldn’t really see Adrien’s face and his beautiful, wonderful green eyes in the dark or because she also was exhausted, but she was sure that these were the first coherent sentences she had spoken to him recently. And now he was holding…her hand!

„I will lead you, be careful, there’s a lot of backpacks and jackets lying around“ he told her and she couldn’t disagree with that logic. Nope, it made perfect sense...

As they reached the seats, Adrien sat down first and this time she joined him without any hesitation. „I still can’t believe you convinced my dad to let me come“ Adien started, making her blush.

„Yeah, me neither. But I guess, he realized how important it was to us“

„Oui“ He sounded happier now. „Do you want to play a game?“

„Huh?“

Adrien turned on his screen again. „There’s not a huge selection but there are some quiz games on here…alone it’s boring, but maybe it’s more fun playing together“

„Yes“

Marinette had no clue what he was talking about, but a few minutes later they both tried to answer questions of different categories as quickly as possible.

„Wow, I’m dumb“ Adrien said after the first round. „I have only 4/10 correct answers in the geography section“

„Geography is hard“ she reassured him.

„But I selected France, Paris as the main category“ And then she laughed and he laughed too.

„Well, Monsieur Agreste“ she teased him, again surprised about her sudden boldness, „I guess you have no clue where you’re living“

„True, I have not seen so much of Paris after all, haven’t I? If there was a category „My room“ I would win for sure!“ He kept on laughing, but Marinette realized she needed to change the subject.

„Let’s play this word game…it’s in English though“ „Fine, we should practice anyway“

It turned out Marinette excelled in this game and nearly found all the hidden words. „Can you find another one…one is still missing?“ As he didn’t answer, she turned towards him, realizing he was about to fall asleep, his eyes closed and him leaning back into his seat. „Okay... good night, Adrien“

She smiled and thought about getting up but just then the boy unconsciously moved his leg in front of hers. It’s not so bad, being small after all, she thought. All the tall boys had to be much more uncomfortable in the small space than she was. If she got up now, there was a chance she would wake him up. „Mari…?“ Speaking of which…

“Adrien?“ He didn’t seem to be fully awake, murmuring something unintelligibly.

"What?“

„Stay“

Oh…my…

“Please“ he whispered and she felt his weight against her side. He wasn’t heavy and apparently longing for contact, instead of actually falling asleep on her. His little „please“ moved something inside her and she placed his hand on his arm.

„Shh…“

She couldn’t think too much about this, she realized.Therefore she closed her eyes as well, leaning into him as if to hide away from all her fear, her awkwardness and no matter how little sense that made, it worked. Adrien rested his chin on her head, her ear close to his chest, so that she now heard his steady and slow breathing. He felt so much better and warmer with Marinette in his arms.

The motor noises were still just as loud and the air just as dry, but there were by themselves in their little world, blocking out everything around them.

The little timer for the game on the screen showed 0:00 seconds and the score was displayed „You found 9/10 hidden words“ it read. The 10th word is „solace“.” Then after a few moments the screen got dark automatically, because no one had restarted the game.

Adrien shifted in his seat, pulling Marinette closer to him, sighing contently as he felt her wrapping her arms around his waist.

At the same moment, in a different time zone, the sun started rising in Paris.

And Adrien Agreste was finally asleep.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading! I’m always happy about reviews, here some little things that didn’t make it into the story:

- Marinette sitting on Adrien’s chocolate bar he placed on the seat next to him instead of eating it

- Plagg nearly getting stuck in the ventilation (a drama, really)

- Adrien and Mari sharing headphones to listen to music on the plane (classic to fall asleep or Jagged Stone to have themselves their own little party, your choice)

I hope you like this little story =)

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrinette #miraculous new york special #new york special #miraculous spoilers #miraculous fanfic #adrinette fanfic #adrinette fluff #ML spoilers

67 notes · View notes

dahliawolfe · 3 years

Text

Something More

CSI NY fanfic

Danny Messer/OFC

The buzzing of her cell woke her. Grunting, Nora reached for the phone and flipped it open.

“Hello,” she rasped.

“Nora, we’ve got a case,” Mac Taylor said, no preamble.

“Gotcha, Dad. Text me the address, please,” she swung her legs over the side of the bed and snapped the phone shut, throwing it onto the nightstand. She hurried into a pair of jeans from the floor and turned to look back at the bed. “Yo, Messer! Up and at ‘em! We got a case,” she demanded, throwing a balled up sock at Danny’s head. She and Danny had been fooling around for a few weeks now. When a case was stressful (and they usually were) they met up and blew off steam. She’d known Danny for nearly 6 years, and he was her best friend. It was strictly no strings attached when they hooked up.

“Lemme sleep,” Danny begged tiredly. They had been up until after 2 a.m. working on finishing up a case. It was now a little after 6.

“No can do. Boss man called himself.” She slid into her lace black bralette and grabbed the first discarded t-shirt she could reach. She shoved her feet into her boots and stood. “Lock up, will ya? See ya there.” Danny gave her a limp wave from the bed, and she snorted. She threw her leather jacket around her shoulders and made her way down to her Tahoe.

…

The Crestmont loomed in front of her, and Nora took a second to peer up. This place had always given her the creeps. Shaking herself, she made her way inside, flashing her badge at the patrol officer out front. She made her way to the elevator, taking it all the way to the 15 floor. She could smell the latex and print powder as she stepped out of the doors. She smiled. It smelled like home. Even before Nora became an investigator herself, her dad had been doing the job, and he always came home smelling like the tools of the trade.

“Nora, over here,” Flack called, waving her over. She nodded and made her way carefully across the penthouse suite.

“What have we got” she questioned, grabbing gloves from her kit and snapping them on.

“Alexander Trenton. He was a judge. On his way to the Supreme Court.” Nora whistled and stooped to take a look at the body.

“Looks like a through and through. Execution style,” she remarked, standing up.

“Is that Danny’s shirt?” Flack questioned, wrinkling his forehead in confusion.

She froze and glanced down at herself. It was indeed Danny’s shirt.

“Oh, yeah. I spilled coffee on myself last night. He lent it to me, and it was just what I threw on this morning on the way out the door.” The lie was easy enough. She needed to be more careful.

“Hmm. Well, you might wanna change before Mac gets here.”

“Where is Father Dearest, anyway?”

“Mayor wanted a word.” Nora rolled her eyes.

“Of course.”

“You guys start the party without me?!” Danny demanded, coming out of the elevator carrying 3 coffees.

“Fashionably late, as always,” Nora teased, grabbing her camera to document the scene.

…

Nora was leaned over the desk in the print lab when someone spoke behind her.

“Detective Eleanor Taylor?”

“Nora,” she replied, placing her file down and turning around, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the light table.

“We would like a word,” replied the man; obviously a federal agent of some sort.

“We can talk in my office,” Mac replied, coming out of nowhere. He led the two agents and Nora to his office, where he shut the door.

“What’s this about?” Nora asked. She didn’t have time for their bureaucratic crap.

The second agent pulled out a file and passed it to Nora. “We believe you know this man.”

Nora opened the file and felt her stomach tighten. “Jared Weston,” she said, the words threatening to choke her.

“Yes. You attended North Peak Academy with him, did you not?”

“That was years ago. Why are you here? I haven’t seen him in 7 years.”

Another file was handed to her. She flicked through it briefly, spotting bloody crime scenes and pages of notes on victims. “Okay?” she asked, dreading the answer.

“In the last 6 months, 6 judges, 3 military personnel, and 4 police have been murdered from Virginia, to Boston, to Delaware. The M.O. is all the same. And all evidence points to someone with a serious grudge against the government.” Nora felt the blood leave her body. She thought he was just an angry kid. Mad at his parents. She never thought he’d do anything like this.

“If you know all of this. And you have evidence against him, why are you here?”

“We’re always one step behind, but we got a lead on his next victim.”

“Judge Trenton?” she questioned, feeling the pieces fall into place. The agents shared a confused face.

“We thought he was a possible target, but Detective Taylor, we think you’re his next target.”

“Me?! What the hell are you talking about?!”

“Weston has it out for you. We found his manifestoes on our last case. He talks about how you betrayed him. And how you’re worse than any of the others.”

“Betrayed him how?” Mac asked, speaking for the first time.

Nora swallowed against a dry throat. “I need a minute,” she croaked, slamming out of the room, and making her way as quickly as possible to the roof, bending over, roughly hugging herself in a demand for oxygen.

“Nora!” came the call, as Danny joined her on the roof. “Hey. Hey. It’s ok. What happened?” he demanded, pulling her into his chest.

“We were kids! We were scared! And we were pissed that our parents sent us to a fucking military academy! That place was hell, Danny, and he was the only bright spot of it! How the hell does this happen?!”

“Ok. Ok. Shhh. It’s ok. I’m right here. I gotcha.” He held her close, rocking her gently until she could breathe again. When he deemed it safe, he pulled her away a pushed a stray curl out of her face. “Now, tell me. What happened in there.”

“Jared went to North Peak too. And we bonded. His mom and dad were both in the military. And he hated them for sending him away to be trained to be like them. And I was mad and Mac for sending me away to a military school upstate. I felt like he didn’t want me. Like I was a fuck up and he wanted to get rid of me and have something better. So, we would sit behind the bleachers and smoke cigarettes and drink beer and rage against the machine. I thought it was all just angsty teenage bullshit. Then the towers were hit. And Claire was gone. And I was devasted. She was the only mom I’d ever known. And she was gone. And I was scared. I was so angry, Danny. I remember just screaming at the stars and demanding to know why any of that bullshit had happened to us. And Jared, Jared sat with me all night and screamed too. And the next morning, Mac came and took me home to finish my senior year at St. Agatha’s. And I never saw Jared again. Truth be told, I didn’t want to. He reminded me of how ungrateful, and angry, and hurt I was, and I didn’t want that. But then I became a cop. And I betrayed him. I left him. And I don’t know what happened to him. But now he kills people, Danny. And he wants to kill me. And hell, maybe I deserve that.”

“Hey! Look at me!” Grabbing her chin, Danny forced her to look up at him. “You do not deserve that. You were a child! And he was sick! And none of that was your fault! You did not do this! He did! You hear me?!” He pressed a firm but gentle kiss to her lips then her forehead and pulled her close again.

…

“We want to put you on 24-hour protection detail,” the FBI agent informed her, once she had relayed her story to them.

“We can do that in house,” Mac stated, folding his arms over his chest. He knew his people could protect his daughter better than the feds ever could. She was one of their own, and they took care of their own.

“I’ll do it,” Danny quickly stated, jumping into the conversation. He’d followed her back inside when she’d finally gained the courage to come in.

“Ok, who else can take a shift?” the agent asked, raising a brow at Mac.

“No, I mean I can be with her 24/7 until we catch this guy,” Danny said, standing straighter. The agent snorted, but Mac nodded.

“Don’t let her out of your sight.”

“Roger, Boss.”

…

Nora tossed her keys into the bowl by the front door and kicked her boots off. It had been a hell of a day, and she needed a drink and a hot bath.

“I’m making myself a rum and coke and I’m gonna sit in a hot bath for an undetermined amount of time. Make yourself at home,” she informed, stripping her tee off and throwing it somewhere to her left.

“Pizza tonight?” Danny asked, leaning over to look into the fridge.

“Sure. Extra cheese.”

By the time Nora made it to the bathroom, she was down to her underwear. She had a cold glass of Bicardi and coke, which she sat down beside her claw foot tub, turning the water on, making sure it was hot enough, and adding some mint soak. After putting some music on her record player, she slid into the warm bubbles, sinking up to her neck. She sighed, feeling at least some of the day’s tension melt away.

Danny peeked into the bathroom, admiring Nora. She looked like a goddess, head laid back, surrounded by bubbles, singing softly to the Frank Sinatra playing in the background.

“See something you like, Messer?” she teased, opening one eye and raising her brow at him.

“Very much so,” Danny replied, coming in to kneel by the tub, dipping his finger under the water. “But, pizza’s here.”

“Mmm. Good, I’m starving. Give me five, and I’ll be out.”

“Sure thing.” Before leaving, Danny leaned down and gave Nora a deep kiss. “Don’t keep me waiting,” he urged, heading back to the living area.

When Nora emerged, she was wearing nothing but an overly large Led Zepplin t-shirt and a pair of black boyshorts. Danny had already set up the tv to reruns of The Golden Girls and had the pizza box open with a beer bottle on each side of the table. He gave her a grin. “Your feast, ma’am,” he joked, bowing for effect.

“Why thank you, sir. Truly, you do provide.” Nora took a seat on the couch, snagging the blue wool blanket from Danny’s end, snatching a slice of pizza, and hooking a beer with her ring finger and pinkie. Danny settled in close, lazily slinging his arm over her shoulder and sitting back with his own slice.

“Fuck, Danny! Don’t stop!” Nora moaned, looking down to catch Danny giving her a cheeky wink, delving even deeper into his ministrations. And Nora was almost there, but then someone knocked on the door.

“Nora, it’s Flack!”

“Fuck!” she hissed, pushing Danny away from between her legs. “C-coming, Flack!”

“Two words you don’t really wanna hear when going down on your girl,” Danny commented, wiping his face off on the duvet. Nora frowned.

“Shut it, Messer. Your girl?” She huffed, standing to locate her discarded underwear, tossing Danny his jeans and making her way to the front door. She checked to make sure Danny was decent before unlocking the door and opening it.

“Flack, what’s up? It’s late, man?”

“Nora, there’s another vic. Mac wanted me to come pick you guys up.”

“Shit. Ok, let me get my pants.”

“Jeffrey Conrad. 57. He’s an ex-homicide detective from Brooklyn,” Mac informed the second Nora got out of Flack’s car.

“Conrad? Why does that name sound familiar?” Nora questioned, grabbing a pair of gloves, ducking under the crime scene tape. Mac handed her a picture. It was of a greying man in a uniform. “Wait, Conrad. There was a kid at North Peak. Tyler…Tommy…”

“Trevor?” Mac replied.

“Yes! That’s it. Trevor, he was in our class. He killed himself a couple of years ago, I think.” Nora sighed, rubbing her temples. “He was always telling anyone who would listen how much of a bastard his dad was. I guess Jared blamed Trevor’s death on his dad.” Mac frowned. Nora could see that this case was wearing at him too. She tried not to give him a hard time. He was a single dad just trying to do what was best. And she knew he loved her, but she also knew how hellish North Peak had been. She gently touched her father’s arm. “Hey, listen. I know why you sent me to North Peak. I’m fine. Those other kids, their parents were terrible to them, but you weren’t like that to me. You and…” she gulped. “And Claire, you guys gave me a lot of good opportunities. You did your best. And I…I don’t blame you for anything.” Mac gave her a sad smile and nodded.

“I shouldn’t have sent you away. I’m sorry, Nora.” She gave him as soft smile.

“Mac! Nora!” Stella called from across the room. Sharing a brief glance at each other, Mac and Nora walked quickly to her side.

“What did you find, Stella?” Stella handed her a sealed envelope.

“It has your name on it.”

#csi ny #danny messer #mac taylor #stella

9 notes · View notes

captainscanadian · 4 years

Text

Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Epilogue 1)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Meet Portia.

Word Count: 3483

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Wanda, Natasha, Sam, Steve, Pepper

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Abuse, Childbirth, Premature Baby

A/N: I’d like to thank @take-me-to-ny for the idea of the first half of this epilogue. I know you’ve all been looking forward to finally meeting Portia and her time has come!

2 Years Later...

His heavy eyes were glued to the cardiac monitor before him and his soft pink lips parted slightly when he let out a shaky breath. He blinked away the slumber that threatened his eyelids as he looked over at Sharon Carter. “Push one of epi.” Dr. Barnes was rather hopeful as he watched the nurse push the syringe of Epinephrine into the premature infant’s delicate body, his eyes darting back to the monitor before he let out another sigh of disappointment. “No change. Heart rate’s at a thirty.” He knew that at twenty weeks, it was highly unlikely for this newborn to survive. At this rate, she probably had another hour or two before he would have to call it. But Bucky was not willing to give up, at least not yet.

The Dr. Barnes who had once claimed to have a cold dead heart would have given up at this point. But he was a different man now. Gone were his signature locks of dark hair? His beard rarely made an appearance nowadays, for he was always clean shaven. Rumor had it that it was his wife, the other Dr. Barnes, had once told him that she preferred his clean shave over the light stubble. Apparently, he had been shaving every single morning ever since in order to keep his wife happy. A husband of every woman’s dream, he really was.

His wedding band had been removed from his left ring finger when he had gotten into work that morning, but the tan mark was still quite evident. It had been burned into his skin by now, reminding everyone he came across that he was a married man. He was no longer the carefree Casanova of the hospital or the workaholic who always snooped around the premises to find a reason not to go home after his shift ended. He had built himself a whole life away from work now.

“She’s not going to make it, is she, doc?”

Bucky shook his head at Sharon. “At this rate, she could only keep going on for another hour or two.” He informed with a frown. “But I’m not giving up that easily...” He was well aware that both the mother and the father of this preemie were currently in surgery, having suffered a handful of serious injuries. They had been brought into the ER after an unfortunate car accident, causing Pepper to perform an emergency c-section on the mother to save their little one. He was unsure if either one of three of them would survive at this point, but he was hopeful. He was sure that her parents would want her to survive this and live on. After all, as a father to be himself, he would always want his child to live on. Knowing what it meant to be a father had really changed his perspective on how to be a doctor. Once again, he would give you the credit for making him better. “We still haven’t tried the oldest treatment in the book.”

Sharon had given the man a look of utter confusion, for she had been sure that they had tried everything that was medically possible to ensure that this newborn survives the day. She saw the numbers; she knew how common it was. Preemies who were delivered so early rarely make it through the first twenty four hours after birth. “What treatment?”

“I mean the treatment that a mother should always give her child.” He replied with a soft chuckle, tugging off his bright pink NICU gown. “But in this case, it will have to be me...”

Her eyes grew wide as she watched him remove his scrub shirt and toss is aside. “Bucky, what the hell are you doing?”

“Shhh!” He was quick to place his index finger against his lips. “Have you ever heard of the kangaroo care? Kangaroos keep their babies against their bodies. Skin on skin contact is proven to help newborns thrive. You know, that’s why babies are often laid on the mother’s chest right after they’re born. We encourage skin on skin contact to... allow for the mother and child to have this bond, yes, but also because of physiological reasons. This method was used long before incubators were invented and it is a lot more effective.” He told her. His large hands were gentle as they scooped up the tiny human; her head was barely the size of the palm of his hand. But he held her gently against his bare chest. “When I hold her like this, she’s able to... feel my warmth and her body picks it up too. She can feel my heart beating against her and... her little heart would also pick it up.” He motioned towards the monitor, the numbers finally having changed as the infant’s heart rate began to increase. “See that? This little one’s not ready to give up.”

“Oh... wow. That’s crazy... that’s amazing, she just... she’s really... I can’t believe I never knew about this until now.” The blonde haired nurse was slightly surprised, but she turned over to look at him when a smile. “You’re going to be such a good dad and you know that, right? You’re going to be the best dad in this whole entire world, man. You’re... so prepared and so... good with kids. You’re so good with kids. I still remember when Sarah was born and Steve made you the godfather. Boy, you were terrified about the responsibility but now, you’re... you’re going to be the best dad.”

Bucky let out a chuckle as he paced slowly back and forth, looking down at the newborn as he spoke softly. “Hey, little one... I know it’s scary, I know you’re fighting... but you’re not alone, no. I got you... I’m here and... We’re going to get through this, okay? We’ll get through this together.” Holding onto this child at that moment, he could not help but wonder how it would feel to hold his own child in his hands one day. He had finally finished with the nursery last night and it was only a matter of time until you went into labor. He was excited for this new chapter in life, for fatherhood and for the two of you to have your little family.

As he was snapped out of his thoughts, he was quick to notice that he had managed to gather a small audience within the NICU. It was only a matter of seconds before a crowd had formed outside as well, those who passed by the NICU pressing their faces against the window to get a better look at the handsome doctor who stood shirtless with a newborn child. What a show! Some of the other nurses who had been keeping an eye on the newborns watched him rather fondly, the older ones nodding with approval. They were all aware that this man’s wife, their beloved Y/N, was due to give birth in a day or two.

Sam had been the first one to walk into the NICU in search of Sharon, his brows furrowed at the sight of his shirtless friend before his lips curled into a smirk. “I thought Y/N was the one who was pregnant. When did you start to lactate?” He asked with a mocking tone in his voice, leaning in to peck his girlfriend’s lips. “Hey beautiful.”

“Hi.” Sharon giggled at his remark.

“I’m saving a life here, Wilson.” He had told him with an eye roll.

“Right, you’re saving one life and... killing all the ladies.”

Then it had been Natasha, who had followed Sam into the NICU and just stood there with her hands on her hips. “Yeah... that’s right, fellas. My best friend bangs all of that!” She had announced as she motioned towards Bucky before turning to see the small crowd of interns. “Let’s move along! The abs and the man have been off the market for ages!”

Bucky let out another laugh as he walked up to her. “Romanoff, really?”

“You know, I just overheard an intern telling another one that you were standing half naked in the NICU. I just needed to see it to believe it.” She told him with a laugh. “Man, you do love a good audience, don’t you?”

Continuing to pace back and forth, he rolled his eyes at her. “I’m only doing what is professionally necessary, Natasha. I’m giving skin on skin contact to a newborn whose parents are both in surgery. It’s as simple as that.” As he turned over towards the door, his lips curled into a smile at the sight of you walking up to him. He had always believed that it was a myth for a woman to be glowing during pregnancy. But he had come to learn how true it was seeing you like this.

“Professionally necessary... right.” Sam snickered, hearing the commotion behind him and turning around to see you. “Of course, they run when they know they can’t be ogling at you with your wife around...”

Nine months pregnant and glowing as brightly as ever, your hand resting protectively over your bump as your swollen feet treaded across the tiled floor of the NICU. You smiled when you saw your husband, the way he stood shirtless with a newborn pressed against his chest making your heart swell. “Oh God...” You felt your eyes glaze over. “Is that the preemie?”

He gave you a nod. “Yeah, it’s her. She’s a little fighter.”

“Steve and Tony told me to let you know that the parents are okay. The police have contacted the family and they should be here soon.” You informed him, quickly wiping away your tears. “Sorry, my hormones are really...” Seeing that baby only made you want your baby to come sooner. You knew that it would only be a less than a week until your little girl would be born. But seeing Bucky like this did not help much.

Natasha watched you for a moment before wrapping her arm around you. “Seeing him like this just gets the oxytocin going, doesn’t it?”

You winced slightly as you felt a trickle down your legs, your eyes growing wide at the realization of what had just happened. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, but you could care less about it. “Oh yeah... it sure does.” You looked over at Nat and then at Sam, swallowing the lump in your throat as you looked down at your feet. “Um... shit. This is really happening. This is really happening right now.” Who would have thought that seeing your husband shirtless and holding a newborn would cause you to go into labor?

“Oh shit, Y/N!” Natasha gasped as she looked down at your feet before looking back up at Bucky. “Barnes, why don’t you let the nurses take over for you and put your fucking shirt on?”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide as he quickly nodded, handing his little patient to Sharon and reaching for his scrub shirt. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! Thank God, this happened down the hall from Pepper’s office.”

One of the other nurses brought over a wheelchair for you to sit down.

“James!” You reached for his hand as he quickly put his shirt on, the tears continuing to stream down your face. “James, I can’t. I can’t... what if I’m not a good mom? What if... what if I turn out to be just like her? What if I... what if I ruin her life?”

“Are you out of your mind?!” Nat scolded you as she began pushing the wheelchair out of the NICU. “Honey, you’re going to be the best mom on the whole fucking planet. And look at this one; he’s going around giving skin on skin contact to these preemies. Just imagine how much more he’d do to your own kid.”

You knew that she was right. Your James was a perfect man in every way and you knew that he would be the best father your child could have asked for. “I know... but-”

“Y/N...” He cut you off as he stopped Nat from pushing your wheelchair and knelt down to reach you. His hands cupped your tear stained cheeks. “Hey, listen to me... we’re going to do this right now and we’re going to do this for the rest of our lives. We’re going to be the best parents our little angel could have asked for, because we’re better than that. We’re better together and we’re going to do this together, okay?”

You looked down at him as you sniffled, nodding your head slightly. “Promise me that she won’t ever... ever be put in a position where she would need to jump out of her bedroom window because freezing to death seemed to be a better option than living with us.”

“I promise... and you know, I’d never break that promise. I’ll love her more than I love you and I’ll always show her how much she’s loved.” He told you as he wiped away your tears with his thumbs. “I won’t let her go...”

As Bucky walked out of the OR after scrubbing out, it felt as though an entire day had passed while he had been in surgery. But it had only been four hours according the clock that was hanging on the wall before him. Four long hours since he had left your bedside to perform surgery on a patient whom he had been working with since had been a resident. One would think that being a new dad for a whole day would mean that he would finally jump at the chance of taking a break from work. But he could not stop worrying about that patient and you had insisted that you would be right where he left you when he got back.

Wanda Maximoff had been waiting for him as he walked down the hallway, handing him a cup of coffee as she followed him towards the elevator. “Don’t worry; it’s a lukewarm vanilla bean latte. Just chug it down before you get to the maternity ward and you can thank me later.” She told him with a chuckle, seeing his reaction when he accepted the cup from her. “You’re going to need to stock up on all of that caffeine for the next few weeks, dad.”

“How is she?” He asked her, downing his beverage in one go as he entered the elevator.

“Which ‘she’ are we talking about?”

“Both.” He replied, rolling his eyes at her as he tapped his foot anxiously. It had only been four hours since he had last seen his girls but it felt like more than that. He felt really impatient.

“Well, the mom... is okay. The bleeding has stopped a little, but she’s still in pain. I mean, why wouldn’t she be? She’s had to...” She let out a sigh, making awkward hand motions that could clearly not express what she was trying to imply. “My niece is an angel though. She sleeps like her mother but she doesn’t let her mother sleep, not that Y/N wants to sleep anyways. She needs it but she’s... can you go in there and convince her to get some sleep? Her body just went through one hell of a change and she needs to get as much rest a she can.”

Bucky let out a chuckle at Wanda’s words. “Got it.” As he got out of the elevator, he tossed his coffee cup in the trash can nearby before jogging down the hallway to where your hospital room was.

Portia Natalia Barnes was born at 11:28 am, almost two days ago now. She was crying at the top of her lungs as she came into this world, making up for all the quiet tears that her mother had shed during her childhood. The first time her father came in contact with her, his left hand had been clutching tightly onto her mother’s. His right hand had taken the scissors from Pepper to cut the umbilical cord. When she had been handed to her mother, she had stopped crying in an instant. It was as though she knew that her mother’s arm was where she was the safest. Her mother would keep her safe no matter what.

She weighed six pounds and nine ounces, a tiny little thing in your arms even though she had taken more than a push and a few tears to be brought into this world. Motherhood really was a reward to all that pain. “Portia.” You had whispered the moment you saw her, turning over to look at your husband. You both knew that there was no other name in this world that she could have.

When Bucky reached your hospital room, he had walked in to see his little girl fast asleep in your arms. He noticed that your eyes were heavy and he frowned, walking into the room to sit down at the edge of your bed. “You look a lot better than the last time I saw you, doll.”

“You look exhausted, James.”

“That is something to get used to.” He told you as he leaned over to gently kiss your forehead, his arm gently wrapped around your shoulder as he leaned his back against the pillow. “Those were the longest four hours of my life.”

“You should probably talk to Steve about going on that paternity leave. I don’t like that he’s making you work during a time like this.” You joked, your voice so quiet as to not wake her up. But she really was a heavy sleeper, like you, though you could not figure out how she manages to notice when you set her in the cot. Two days old and your little Portia had already gotten the intelligence of her namesake. “What a hypocrite.”

“Sorry, I had to leave like that. I’ve known the patient since I was a resident and I couldn’t not... be there, you know?” He told you as he bit down on his lip. He hated to have left you alone with your new daughter like that, even if it was for a few hours.

“Why are you apologizing, James?” You asked him as you shook your head. “You know I would have done the same thing, even though I... I can’t even stand up without feeling sore between my legs, let alone stand in the OR for hours on end.”

“If you had pulled something like this, I wouldn’t have let you go.” Bucky chuckled softly and looked down at Portia, his free hand gently rubbing against her head. He was extremely cautious, not wanting to hurt her even the slightest. He could not believe how the two of you had managed to create such a beautiful thing. “How is she?”

“She... hates sleeping in the cot and she cries unless I’m holding her. I’m pretty sure likes being watched when she’s asleep and Sam was insistent that she gets that from me.” You replied as you let out a yawn. “But she’s a heavy sleeper otherwise. I think she just... knows the difference between me and the cot already. It’s crazy.”

He noticed how tired you looked and nodded. “Let me hold her, doll. Rest your arms a little. You look like you need some sleep and... I just chugged an entire cup of coffee. I’ve got her.”

You nodded, smiling fondly at your husband, the father of your child, the love of your life. A wise man had once told you that we were all capable of building better lives for ourselves than what life had to offer us. You believed it now. Your life really was better.

Taking Portia from you, Bucky gently rested her against his chest while his free hand still held onto yours.

As you dozed off next against his shoulder, he looked down at his newborn daughter with a smile. “Hey, baby girl.”

Portia, who had woken up from the movement, did not make a sound as she starred up at her father. The way her wide eyes were glued at him, it was as though she had recognized him too. She felt safe in his arms as much as she felt safe in yours.

“I promise you, Portia. You might not remember this when you’re older but... I want you to know that I’ll make sure that your childhood is a thousand times better than your mother’s. I’ll make sure that you know how much you’re loved until the day I die. I love you and your mother so much and I’ll always do right by you both.” He told her softly as he nodded, leaning down to gently press his lips against her tiny forehead. “You are loved so much, baby girl. You’re loved so much by your old man.”

#aj writes #better #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #doctor!tony #better!bucky #dad!bucky

328 notes · View notes

themsource · 4 years

Text

Fransweek 2020 Day 6

Theme: Fairytale Rating: M TW: Parental Abuse Pairing: (Faerytale) FT Sans/Frisk Word Count: 8,165

This wanted to be more than a one shot so I apologize if it reads funny at all ^^; @fransweek

Frisk was crying, her hands shaking and body numb.

A new purple bruise forming already on her arm, just above her elbow. Deep down she knew she’d probably deserved it, but it didn’t make the shock or sting any less.

She sniffled as she walked, her eyes staring at nothing as her thoughts roamed. Frisk didn’t have a destination in mind nor a goal, she just let her feet carry her aimlessly further and further from her house. She only wanted a break, a place to gather herself.

That’s when she saw it.

The trees parted ahead, a small trail of shorter grass among chest high fauna that led away into what looked like a brightly lit alcove.

Frisk stilled as she stared at it.

Had it always been there? How far had she wandered from the village?

She glanced back behind her and contemplated returning but loud shouting still echoed in her head. How seething rage made her ears ring had Frisk swallowing nervously.

Exploring a little longer wouldn’t hurt her.

What could go wrong?

Steeling her racing heart Frisk turned curiously to the path and pushed ahead, her eyes wide and observing as the fauna gradually grew contrasted and vibrant the longer she walked. Dulled greens shifted into brighter almost yellow shades and purples turned nearly cyan, the coloring giving an almost glass like effect that glimmered in the shaded light.

She stopped next to a plant that looked suspiciously like a sunflower, the petals giving a slight tingle to her fingertips as she lightly grazed the almost translucent edges.

She sucked in a breath as tiny tendrils wisped out and curled, almost latched onto her in a feather light caress. Blinking as she realized how bizarre that was she leapt back, hissing through her teeth as the tendrils seemingly dissolved at the loss of contact.

Frisk stood there dumbly staring at the seemingly innocent plant.

Shaking her head she decided to continue forward, her feet pressing into soft icy blue moss until she entered a wide open space.

Right away her eyes panned the perimeter.

There were tightly packed and thick trees forming a perfect circle that even a sheet of parchment would struggle to slip through, the only entrance or exit she could perceive being the path she’d taken, and not a single blade of grass appeared uneven in length.

It was calming.

Taking a hesitant step forward her eyes slipped down to a small pond perfectly situated towards the center but fading off into the treeline. Its crystal clear water, so pure that she could see the bottom swarming with plentiful fish and ivy, shimmered hypnotically beneath the small rays of light that pierced the trees canopy overhead.

But that wasn’t what had her attention..

It was a ring of mushrooms.

Pure gold and in perfect formation it sat precisely center and in front of the water’s edge, no other plants or weeds to be seen in the clearing aside from it.

As if entranced Frisk walked slowly closer, pausing as she noticed the grass at its center glimmered with a rainbow tinted light, refracted colors both alluring and mesmerizing dancing across the space big enough that she could lay in it with no problem.

It did look inviting, the perfect circle comforting to gaze at as if it was a golden wall against anyone that would try to harm her.

The thought of stepping in for a nap briefly flitted across her mind.

Her brows furrowed at how quickly she’d contemplated such a thing.

She...didn’t feel too safe suddenly looking at it.

The circle was so otherworldly and strange it gave her a sense of cautious foreboding.

She glanced around the beautiful expanse one last time before deciding she’d seen enough. If her gut was telling her this area was a red flag she wasn’t about to ignore it.

Frisk was about to turn and leave when—

“H u m a n,” Frisk froze in place, her heart starting to hammer like it wanted to burst from her chest.

She had been alone she was sure of it...human?

The voice spoke again, it’s cadence slow and almost amused sounding. “don’t you know how to greet a new pal?”

Pal?

“turn around and shake my hand.” Slowly Frisk turned, ringing in her ears as her eyes locked on who had called out to her in a baritone so low she could feel it’s vibration practically in her chest.

She had to bite her tongue to keep from gasping in shock.

It was a skeleton, wearing a sapphire blue cloak with a skeletal hand outstretched, thick phalanges gently curled and, somehow, palm cupped welcomingly. Where eyes would be floated two orbs of white light, faintly bobbing as they locked on her, with a benign grin of wide and pure white teeth.

Despite how friendly and inviting his demeanor looked Frisk noticed his expression seemed disturbingly detached.

Another red flag.

Frisk’s eyes drifted down to the hand he held out.

His hand wasn’t reaching out pass the ring of mushrooms he stood in.

Her expression shifted. Hadn’t she heard a legend about mushrooms before? Magic circles given form through nature as a way to warn mortals?

She swallowed.

“I uh…don’t want to be rude but…I don’t want to?” Her words hung in the air between them, his expression slowly changing as his grin stretched and his hand dropped by his side.

He let out a lighthearted chuckle.

“smart kid, the handshake routine rarely works but it’s <em>always</em> funny when it does.” Frisk felt the tension leave the air and couldn’t help how she instantly relaxed. The skeleton’s whole persona had flipped like a coin at her rejection, he appeared so casual and easy going.

Like he’d just tried to play a joke on an old friend.

She let out a hesitant smile.

“I’m Frisk…nice to meet you.” The monster raised a skeletal brow, his smile remaining on his face as he observed her silently. The time he took to look at her seemed to stretch to the point Frisk squirmed in place and the intensity he’d been directing at her softened.

He let out a snort. “i’m sans. sans the skeleton.”

Frisk and Sans continued to watch each other, the lights in his skeletal sockets brightening curiously as he tilted his skull. She was an odd child to him. He’d never seen a human with eyes the color of sunlight before.

It was such a unique feature.

“never seen a human with yellow eyes before.” He commented.

“Never seen a talking skeleton before.” Frisk responded absently.

Sans snorted as he contemplated her, Frisk taking in the situation with a puzzled glance. He wasn’t advancing, making any kind of move to get closer to her from where he sat cross legged and slouching.

He was at least a good inch from the ring’s edge closest to her and that allowed her to conclude that so long as she didn’t cross into the ring of mushrooms she was safe, from what she still questioned.

No one in the village ever elaborated as to why they warned about the rings. No matter how hard she thought about it she couldn’t recall much in the way of conversation about the whole thing.

Was it Sans?

She supposed he looked intimidating, being a skeleton.

She took a sharp breath as she pulled her knees into her chest. Noticing the way his orbs of light followed the movement.

He certainly was fixated on her though.

“What are you?” Her voice came out slightly raspy.

Her question hung in the air as Sans flickered his gaze up to her eyes, his sockets lidding as his grin stretched.

Frisk couldn’t see the humor behind it.

Something about the way he looked at her was guarded, shaped to give a sense of security and shrewdness like a mask. “i’m a seelie.”

Frisk blinked. “A what?”

Sans’s skull flexed, both of his eyebrows raising at her humorously but his carefully constructed expression remained firmly in place. When he spoke his tone was light, curious.

“you don’t know who the seelie are?” How she shook her head had Sans eyeing her suspiciously. Frisk looked at least sixteen, well past the age that she should’ve been told the legends of his race.

Had humanity fallen that out of touch with them already?

“well,” He started as he looked away briefly before looking back at her with a sneaky grin. “i’m a fairy you could say. a fae.” Frisk raised a brow this time.

“I don’t see any wings on your back, and you’re a bit big. Thought you said you were a skeleton.” Sans’s sockets creased along the bottoms as he responded in a lackadaisical tone.

“i’m a special type, i’m winging it honestly.” Her expression went closed at first before slowly slipping into measured amusement. It didn’t escape his notice that she almost looked afraid of laughing, cautious of offending him.

Smart girl.

“W-was that a pun?” Frisk asked as she tried to cover her mouth. Sans closed both his sockets full of smug brevity. “dunno, did you find it punny?”

Frisk broke into laughter, unable to hold it back and Sans found himself grinning widely.

He liked this human.

“seelies are beings responsible for the magic in your world, the unexplained.” Frisk’s laughter petered out and she looked at him in confusion.

“The unexplained?” Sans lazily gestured around them and all it took was a quick trace of her eyes along the grove for her to understand. Her cheeks turned red as she faced him again.

“Wow, I didn’t know Fae made such beautiful things.” His smile strained, and Frisk tensed at the slight growl in his words. “not all fae do.”

“All?” She questioned.

Sans’s face was dark, and his tone dropped. “we’re not the same as the unseelie, the dark fae…not exactly.”

How did she not know this?

Frisk felt her heart race as she swallowed thickly.

“What do you mean dark Fae?” Sans’s eyelights? shrunk slightly and his tone was carefully schooled as he looked at her neutrally.

He hadn’t meant to venture onto this topic but it was too late now.

“we seelie seek out humans to bring to our realm to help with our queens longevity, to strengthen our magical ties to the veil between our realms by unlocking the latent magic of your souls.” Frisk’s eyes widened.

“You turn us into Seelie?” Sans’s eyelights pulsed with something akin to humor.

“do you know what mages are?” She nodded her head and Sans was relieved he didn’t have to explain that to her. Why he was doing this in the first place he didn’t question.

“well that’s what you become. in turn for gaining magical abilities the cost is the world from which you come and your mortal lifespans. our world enables you to live as long as a seelie, and that gives the queen more life herself due to the increase in the potent magic. we have a fair give and take.”

Sans decided not to mention the cloisters.

“the unseelie…like to consume souls and steal bodies.”

Frisk felt her skin go clammy.That was something she hadn’t been aware of, something that could happen and no one would be the wiser. It terrified her, but she wanted to know. It didn’t escape her how Sans’s tone lowered though, became almost gentle.

“unseelie at their best just like some fun usually at the expense of others, however that’s rare. they believe that by increasing their own magic themselves they can support the balance of our worlds on their own merits. instead of drawing magic from it’s natural place they make it to where they can unnaturally produce and draw it from themselves. consuming a human soul makes that possible.”

They consumed human souls?

“How?” Sans’s expression didn’t shift but his eyelights dimmed as he took in her reaction.

“your spirit and wills are strong enough to rival our magic when on equal footing. fusing the two together, a human soul with a monster makes…a freak of nature.” Sans’s smile went tired.

“our method, giving humans our magic is more of an evolution for your species not a senseless genocide where one has to sacrifice for the other. plus ours can be…reversed. if ever a mage were to leave our realm for too long their ties to magic would fade, and gradually they’d begin to age again.”

Frisk was silent and Sans wondered if she would be able to take everything he’d told her. It was a lot to tell a child, and it was more than possible that she was now scared of him.

But all Frisk did was smile at him.

“I’m glad you’re a seelie.” Sans, confused, lowered his mask back into place. If she were an adult, an educated one, he doubted she’d be saying that. But still he had to know what her reasoning was.

It was unexpected, even unnerving, how relieved she sounded.

“why do you say that?”

“Because I wouldn’t want to be scared of my new friend.”

Sans was speechless.

He’d explained the nature of his race and it’s counterpart, told her how his basically kidnaps and steals away their mortal rights, and yet she was still saying something so pure and honest that it hit him right where his soul rested.

She didn’t even know him.

They had just met.

But Frisk so quickly trusted him. Considered him a friend, even when that was a dangerous decision she perhaps shouldn’t make.

Seelie and Unseelie were different yes, but it was still a fine line between them that could blur. One easily crossed often on accident.

It made him wonder if she considered them friends so quickly from ignorance, though she looked old enough to know better,...or loneliness.

Was that what had lured her to his grove?

Her honey colored eyes were glowing as she looked at him, and he couldn’t help how his soul thrummed under its gaze. However his eyelights quickly locked on an ugly purple mark on her arm the moment she shifted in place.

His sockets widened.

It was then that Sans realized it was loneliness, that this little girl had never been loved before.

And that woke, unsettled, something in him.

“...i’m glad you’re not scared of me either frisk.” How radiant her joyful laugh lit up her face and echoed around the clearing left him mute.

The surrounding light dimmed and faint darkness fell like a blanket over them and he peered up to see the budding horizon of the night sky fading in through the groves canopy.

Sans looked back to Frisk who had followed his gaze and he was speaking before he could think about it too hard.

“it’s late, you should get home. don’t want to get lost do you?” The slight wince on her face nearly made him inwardly frown but he remained outwardly expressionless.

“I don’t really want to.” He forced a smirk.

“sorry kid, but a growing human needs rest.” He held his hand out from where he sat. “going to say goodbye?”

Frisk looked ready to reach forward, automatic politeness guiding her but pulled back at the last second, her eyes narrowing and nose wiggling in a look of incredulousness. “Hey!”

Sans chuckled and gave a lazy shrug.

“seelie i did there did you?” Frisk let out a scoff as she stood and wiped the grass from her clothes. Shyly she looked up at him and Sans cocked another brow inquisitively.

“Can I come visit again?” He didn’t know how to respond so he said, “sure kid.”

His eyelights didn’t leave her until she vanished back through the concealment barrier to the grove, his mind wondering just what he’d gotten himself into, and his thoughts drawn to the golden eyed girl with fascination.

Oh well, maybe she wouldn’t come back after she let what he’d told her register.

Sans was proven wrong the moment he felt a disturbance in his magic the next day.

“hey kid. back so soon?” he held his hand out habitually and her deadpan nearly had him chuckling.

“So I passed my classes.” He tilted his skull as his hand lowered back into the confines of his cloak.

“that’s good, which ones?” It shocked him how easily he fell into the conversation. Such a mundane topic when compared to his Seelie knowledge but engaging in how Frisk so eagerly spoke about her rather boring day.

She looked so happy to have someone listening.

It made his soul shiver unpleasantly, in a way he wasn’t familiar with and caused his skeletal brows to furrow. He pushed it down and focused instead on how Frisk’s hands moved so quickly in her excitement, the small limbs emphasizing her words.

“Math and English are my favorite subjects.” Frisk exclaimed with a toothy smile as her hands wrung.

“english huh? my brother likes that subject.” Right away he saw the silent question in her eyes and Frisk perked up as he started to go on a long and drawn out spiel.

He looked so animated and expressive as he playfully joked and told her embarrassing stories.

She’d always wanted a sibling.

And she wondered what that would’ve been like.

“Wow Papyrus sounds like so much fun.” Frisk’s voice came out hushed.

Sans’s sockets crinkled with genuine happiness through his mask, and his voice was brimming with affection that it made Frisk blush.

“ya, he’s the coolest.” She smiled at the clear love in the skeleton fae’s sockets but then she noticed the moment his eyelights brightened, his smile turning mischievous.

“you could meet him y’know.” Her chest warmed at the prospect.

“I could?” Sans closed one socket and held his hand out.

It made Frisk deadpan. “Let me guess I’d only have to take your hand?”

He closed both sockets and didn’t reply. His smug silence was answer enough.

Frisk tried not to let her disappointment show, instead she blew out her cheeks and rested her chin on her knees in a pout, earning a silent snicker from the skeleton.

The kid was cute.

Her visits became a daily thing, three days turned into a week, a week into four, and soon Sans started coming to the gate ahead of her. Waiting patiently but not long until her brunette hair peaked from the path with excited strides.

Sans didn’t know why he kept interacting with her just as Frisk didn’t know why the grove called to her each morning like a siren song.

And each time he’d offer a hand, each time she’d turn him down.

Frisk’s eyes though never failed to glow with her joy at his presence and his eyelights always expanded happily in his sockets.

It was as if he gave her the moon each time he showed up to greet her. And he felt his soul start to give a pitiful flutter of platonic affection each time she went right into telling him how her day went.

There were times however where Frisk wouldn’t begin talking right away and Sans, deeply perturbed, a tiny spark of rage boiling in his chest he didn’t want to look too hard at, would grant them both mercy and talk to her about his realm and the magic there.

Entertain her with fanciful tales and stories.

A lot he made up, but Frisk always stared at him with admiration nonetheless, latched onto the tales like a plant craving the smallest drop of water. She loved how he took her awe in stride, made his stories more exaggerated or wild just to see what he could get away with.

But as with all beings who started to care for each other…

The questions came.

“hey frisk?” He tried.

“Yes?”

“where did you get that mark today?”

She didn’t answer him, only pulled her sleeve or pant leg a little lower to hide whichever one he could be referring to. And she, scared that if he knew how bad she often was to deserve such things, worried that he’d abandon her, and so changed the subject to a question he’d often answered before about magic.

He grudgingly let her, silently wondered when she’d break.

And one night it happened.

Frisk had never gone to the grove at night before, she’d never had a reason to.

But that night had been…bad.

She usually sought out Sans’s company after such episodes, a few jokes and his usual attempts to lure her away to his world somehow always made her feel better, but tonight she just wanted to be alone.

But not.

Honestly she didn’t know if Seelie needed sleep but if they did she was willing to at least be in the same place as where her friend always met her. Frisk knew the grove wasn’t his actual home, but to her it’s all she knew him to have.

And that was enough.

It wasn’t a surprise when she found the ring of mushrooms he usually occupied empty. A group of fireflies tracing along the back of it and into the far off trees.

The sight of it though relaxed her and she fell into her habitual spot with a muted crunching of grass. Her honey colored eyes locking onto the Seelie gate with fondness.

She was a bit let down even though she’d known better.

Frisk let out a dejected sigh and slowly fell sideways, her knees pulling up to her chest as she let out a shiver in the slightly chilled air. It was a cool night, fall wasn’t that far off.

Would Sans still be able to visit once winter hit?

His explanation on the summer and winter courts hadn’t really informed her of that.

Her eyes had started to drift closed in her musings.

“frisk?”

She jolted awake and sat up, her eyes automatically honing in on the ring before frowning.

It was still empty.

She blinked the tiredness from her eyes, when had she fallen asleep? And carefully looked around before pulling up short in surprise.

Sans was a few feet from her, looking at her curiously.

He was outside the circle?

“Sans?” In disbelief she pushed to her feet and froze.

He was tiny, came up to about the top of her hip.

Her brows furrowed.

Frisk was certain he was taller than this, he gave the impression that he was a good five foot at least. Though she’d never seen him standing before the way he typically sat gave her the impression.

His skull tilted in question. “what are you doing out so late?”

“Why are you small?” She couldn’t help asking. Sans let out a snort.

“i’m in your realm, not enough active magic here for me to be at full height.” Oddly she understood what he meant by that. Then it occurred to her…could Sans take her now that he wasn’t bound by the gate?

Was that a bad thing?

The impulsive thought scared her.

She took a cautious step back, tried to be subtle so as not to be rude but Sans caught it. His eyelights snapped to her feet before going back up to her face.

It was so weird to see him craning his vertebra to look up at her but strangely adorable.

“easy kiddo, i can’t take you anywhere right now. it’s only possible during the day, and i can’t just pick you up and go.” His smile was patient and reassuring.

“Why not?” Sans’s smile only turned even friendlier as he heard the uncertainty in her tone.

“remember the veil i mentioned? it’s like a magic curtain between our worlds. during the day it’s weakest on this side of it; meaning no seelie from the seelie realm can roam or exit through the gates but yet others can enter from this side. at night, it’s reversed. you as a human can’t pass through but any other seelie can leave if they choose.” Sans looked thoughtful for a moment before shrugging.

“as for why i can’t just pick you up and go, even if the sun were to rise well…that’s one of the rules of intent with magic. if you were to unwillingly pass through, my realm wouldn’t be able to…lock….you into place there. unless you consumed our food or something.” As a side thought he held his arms out and shrugged. “plus obvious height differences heh.”

Frisk looked confused as she ruminated on his words.

Sans was slightly worried she wouldn’t understand, but there wasn’t a simpler way to explain it without having an inherent touch with magic.

Still she surprised him as she so often did.

“Magic needs an anchor basically?” His socket’s widened and crinkled at the corners. He looked so proud Frisk couldn’t keep the blush from her face as he nodded. “more or less.”

Then something Sans would call realization flashed in her eyes and his expression went wide with shock as she suddenly bent down and pulled him up into an unexpected hug, her thicker arms wrapping him in a vice that made him let out a strained grunt as a blue blush flared across his skull.

“f-frisk!”

“You’re so cute all tiny Sans!” She gushed as she spun with him on the spot. Sans went to protest, not really one for casual physical contact but went still as a statue as he felt something wet fall onto the crown of his head.

Frisk didn’t give him room to pull back, her soft cheek pressed into the side of his jaw and left socket as something dangerously close to a sniffle vibrated from her chest.

His tone was abnormally soft. “what are you doing out so late kiddo?”

Of course she didn’t answer him but he let her hold him for as long as she needed. When she finally gave him room and let him back down her tears were gone but her eyes were bloodshot, smile as bright as usual and eyes happy.

“Want to see my village?”

He’d seen it countless times already.

“sure.”

Sans and Frisk both grew closer; his nightly roaming visits spent strolling beside her through the quiet of her village, her free hours in the day put towards visiting him within the grove where he was forcibly bound to stay.

They made each other’s lives more interesting, exchanging puns and jokes while steadily learning the cultures and life of the other.

It was something Sans knew wasn’t supposed to happen.

Humans and Seelie weren’t meant to be friends like they had become. But every time he contemplated leaving for good, abandoning her, he found himself unable to. There was something about the honey colored eyed girl that drew him to her.

Only made him more insistent on trying to kidnap her back to his world.

It left a bitter taste in his mouth that she stubbornly never took the delicate step he needed from her. Even on the worst of days when she’d show up exhausted and on the verge of what his kind called falling down.

The day he finally called her out on it, had addressed it directly Frisk had simply responded as if they’d talked about it countless times before.

“you don’t have to put up with that you know. all you have to do is take my hand and you’d never have to worry about them hurting you again.” His soul twisted as she gave him a weak smile.

“You say your brother thinks of you as lazy but you really do work hard at your job.” Sans bit his tongue. Prevented the unspoken words in his head from slipping out and showing a vulnerability he didn’t wish the kid to see as he simultaneously discovered it himself.

you’re not a job to me.

The topic didn’t come back up.

The day came when he had to go on an assignment the queen had given him; it was to take no more than a week, a quick in and out of the Unseelie realm to monitor the dark fae for signs of treasonous activity.

But he worried.

Sans was good at being undetectable, it was going to be an all-around easy task.

Still it didn’t prevent the regret he felt at the withdrawal in Frisk’s eyes, the ache he felt in his chest at the sight of her smile falling into a frown when he told her.

Frisk didn’t want him to go, just the idea of him not being there made her feel hollow.

And he’d honestly thought she’d protest, ask him to stay. But instead she’d merely whispered, “Only a week right?”

He…was proud of her. How in stride she took the news. It was going to be the longest they’d gone without seeing each other since they’d first met but she held her head up and kept her heart hopeful.

His masked smile turned genuine in the way only she so often could make it.

“that’s right, i’ll even come straight here when i’m finished.”

Frisk’s eyes lit up and it made his soul swell.

She could manage seven days, she was sure of it.

All it took was her nod of acceptance before he vanished, the urge to end this task quickly burning in his skull.

Sans managed the job in three days.

A Seelie of his word the first thing he did was return to the grove once he left the Unseelie realm, his intentions to reassure his little human before dropping his report back to the Queen.

When he rose from the gate however the sight that greeted him made his soul freeze in his ribs.

The grove…was wilder, more tangled and unkempt. A blatant passage of time and his absence scarred across it.

And instead of the anticipated human child he’d grown fond of to meet him sat a woman, humming as she twisted some flowers she had gathered beside her into a delicate crown in her callused hands.

Sans’s eyelights nearly went out.

He hadn’t intended on having to deal with a human to collect, in fact it irritated him.

Sans had wanted to see Frisk.

With resolve he took a deep steadying breath and put on his practiced grin. He’d simply capture them and then return quickly before he had the chance to be missed.

“H u m a n,” The female predictably jolted. “don’t you know how to greet a new pal?”

She whipped around and timed slowed as his sockets shot wide, honey colored eyes landing on him and sending an almost crippling pulse of recognition through his magical leylines.

Only one human he’d ever known had that unique distortion.

Sans’s voice was shaky as he spoke.

“…frisk?”

Tears immediately ran down her cheeks as she smiled at him.

He didn’t know what to think or say, all he could do was pan her form, take in old scars he recognized on her knees and wrists. Silently acknowledged that she had matured in ways typical to a young human adult in her prime.

The little girl he knew was gone, and in her place was a kind and startlingly attractive woman.

His soul withered even as it heated up violently in his chest.

“One more day, I can wait one more day I said.” Sans was frozen as she turned to fully face him, pulled her now long and elegant legs up into the familiar bend as she rested her chin atop them just as she had in her youth. “Welcome back Sans, I missed you.”

He felt his magic curl, caused a shiver through his bones as he swallowed and rasped thickly, “how long?”

“Three years.” Sans came to learn a day in the Unseelie realm wasn’t so liner as the human world and his realm were. He couldn’t think of what to say to her. Frisk though only continued to smile and did what she so often did, had only done a few days ago to him, and went on about how her day had gone.

How the last three years of her life had gone.

It made Sans acknowledge a harsh reality, and in his panic he interrupted her.

“come back with me.”

Frisk startled, her eyes wide but mouth closed in a firm line.

They both appraised each other like it was the first time they’d met all over again. Sans taking in how exactly she’d changed, Frisk noticing how he was exactly the same.

He didn’t want to risk losing her, never seeing her again if he was called to serve once more. She didn’t want to miss out on what life could offer her now that she was free from what she’d gone through as a child.

Frisk’s answer was like a blow straight to his soul.

“No.”

Sans kept his gaze unreadable as she explained her reasonings, all perfectly understandable and valid for a mortal he acknowledged bitterly, and for the first time he couldn’t bring himself to stay near the human he’d grown so attached to.

To not feel so unreasonably angry at her rejection.

He left.

Frisk stared in shock at the empty ring, more tears now full of hurt and pain poured out, and she felt so awful at what she’d told him.

But she waited just as she had done before.

And when Sans returned, unable to stay away for long, they’d both continued as if nothing had happened.

His attempts became more ridiculous and endearing the more he tried and failed to lure her back with him as time passed. Frisk found it cute how much he wanted so badly to pull the wool over her eyes, almost hilarious how he worked so hard at it sometimes.

“Are you going to get promoted or something if you ever succeed at this?” She teased.

“nah, better.” Sans winked playfully. “i’ll get to keep you.”

Her cheeks flushed crimson just as his lit up brilliant cyan at the accidental flirt. They purposefully ignored it, not realizing how both their souls had given a firm thrum in tandem.

It wasn’t hard to quietly admit to themselves that they had fallen for each other the more their blushes grew, the more awkward their chuckling became, and how a certain mood lit up the grove each time they met.

But then--their happiness was threatened.

“Sans!”

His soul shook, somehow heard the echo of Frisk’s pained cry and sent a bolt of panic through his ribs as he shortcut to the gate from where he’d been with barely a thought. Just managed to peer into her realm as Frisk came running frantically into the grove, and witnessed her feet, bare and cut, giving out and forcing her to fall but a few feet from him.

He didn’t get time to question what was happening.

Sans’s soul was pounding like a drum in his chest, sweat beading on his forehead as he heard the cries of what was unmistakably an Unseelie making their way to her, the bloodcurdling screeching and demented laughter causing nausea to take hold of him as it passed the grove’s barrier.

Frisk was weak as she tried to push to her feet, her muscles strained beyond exhaustion.

Sans tried to phase outside the ring, struggled to concentrate his magic to break out into her realm but was forcefully refused as he let out a snarl of contempt.

He knew deep down that there would be consequences for their relationship. What decent Unseelie wouldn’t be able to smell the magic of his grove on her being? This had been what he’d feared from the get go other than the imposing laws of his people.

Attachment.

He was more shocked that it had taken this long for the inevitable to happen than the fact it was happening now of all times, with the sun high in the sky and the veil strong and resistant.

Sans could see the Unseelie coming for Frisk, the sick fae having taken her form in a demented play of mental torture. Naturally curled auburn locks turned stringy and greased threads that covered a face born of disgust and hatred. Leaking black socks with crimson eyes and manic grin stretched grotesquely in glee.

His sockets were wide as he fell to his knees.

If he was outside, if it was night he’d be small and limited but he’d still have enough magic to repel the creature. But he wasn’t and it was coming in fast.

Sans couldn’t let it take Frisk, if it did she…there were worse fates than death for humans in the Unseelie realm.

Time turned to an agonizing crawl as he locked his pained gaze on the woman he cared about.

Frisk had said she wanted to die in the human world among her kind.

...Never wanted to give up her mortality...

Sans was at a crossroads.

Down one path was honoring her wishes…but he’d lose her sooner than they both deserved or worse. The other path…was to risk her becoming bitter towards him for the blatant manipulation he’d be forced to use.

The chance she’d never forgive him for taking away her choice on how she wished to live and die.

His sockets flickered up to the blood stained grin of the corrupted fae, it’s eyes full of malicious intent and all he could think about was how she wouldn’t have a life at all if he didn’t act.

Sans made a choice as he offered out his hand to her.

Frisk glanced up and he could see the realization in her eyes as she reached the same conclusions he had a moment before only there was a silent debate in her golden depths, a struggling to find another way.

And that was what killed him the most.

Down to his bones Sans was a Seelie, full of the potential for corruption and cruel disregard that their dark counter parts thrived in. Sans was willing to use whatever method it took to convince Frisk to give into his selfishness, to alleviate his own fear without thought to any alternatives.

And that part of him burned with a smoldering fury as he embraced the anguish he’d have to cause her.

“frisk take my hand! please!”

He watched her hesitate, witnessed the Unseelie draw closer, and finally said the one thing he knew would break her, the image of her for barely a second overlapped by the young girl he’d met almost a lifetime ago that had opened his soul to emotions and concepts outside of what his race had taught him.

The little girl that had once so foolishly and easily trusted him.

“i love you…”

It came out barely a whisper so low it shouldn’t even have been heard under the thundering steps and screeching of the beast encroaching. But the sheer amount of honest emotion behind it and the way his face crumbled was enough for Frisk to catch it, feel the declaration innately down to her core.

The kind and ultimately selfless woman he knew her to be overrode the selfish side of her that wanted more than anything to live a normal life, one that had been so cruelly denied her by the ones that should have loved and cherished her above everything.

The way Sans had when she’d been nothing but alone and neglected.

He watched as the love he knew she had for him won out and without a thought her hand slid into his. Victorious and thrilled, desperate and terrified Sans managed to pull her in just as the Unseelie lunged for her and missed.

Sans cradled Frisk close to him as she passed out, his eyelight flaring threateningly as the Unseelie froze before the gate with a look so condemning and enraged he couldn’t help but to chuckle darkly at it.

“sup buddy? something slip through your fingers?” The Unseelie roared but Sans was gone before it could finish.

Sans was dutiful and patient as he brushed the hair from Frisk’s forehead, her shut eyes fluttering as she subconsciously leaned into his touch.

Her hair was softer than he’d imagined, finer. And the way her skin felt beneath his phalanges nearly made a rumble form in his chest. He didn’t want to stop touching her, it was almost unreal that she was here with him now.

In his home, his bed.

With a sigh he brought the cup of water to her lips and lifted her head slightly as he fed it to her.

It made a confusing mixture of smugness and sorrow coil in his proverbial gut to watch her drink it. To know he was essentially taking another decision from her by offering her Seelie nourishment as she slept.

The only loophole that allowed humans to leave sealed to her.

But she needed the energy to recover and he allowed the weak reasoning to act as a foundation to his justification.

Frisk looked so dehydrated and tired.

How long had that Unseelie chased her before she made it to him?

“Brother.” Papyrus’s quiet tone drew his attention and right away he knew something was up with how his younger brother’s sockets creased along the bottoms, a hesitance that wasn’t normal resting in them. “Undyne’s here.”

Sans looked down at Frisk a moment before pushing to his feet. “i’ll be back bro.”

“She’s a human Sans! You can’t just keep her!” Undyne shouted incredulously. “She belongs in the cloister with the others! A free roaming mage could be dangerous!”

Sans ignored her as he looked to their Queen, the King beside her scowling disapprovingly. Undyne had a point but that didn’t mean Sans had to acknowledge it. It was nothing but a possibility, a what if, and he knew Frisk.

She wasn’t like that. Maybe once he would’ve agreed but not now.

Toriel’s ethereal moon speckled eyes locked with his midnight dark sockets.

He was not going to let Frisk be squirreled away to an isolated place of stone and cold shouldered mages.

Forced to repeat her trauma in an entirely new light.

This fiercely determined woman who had remained kind and trusting despite her circumstances, who he’d just stolen everything from deserved so much more than that.

His soul wouldn’t allow it.

“every seelie is granted the right to a condition free wish from birth.” The silence was long before their queen spoke, the stares of all other Seelie present in the court boring into his spine with resentment and confusion.

“Are you sure Sans? A Seelie may only request this once.”

Sans didn’t answer, he didn’t have to.

Toriel simply nodded.

“Very well then, the human known as Frisk is yours. Just remember, she is still bound to the same rules as the others, she can never leave and any fallout from this wish is yours to bear alone.”

Sans had never felt so satisfied as he did shooting a smug glance to the passing guard before shortcuting.

The satisfaction didn’t last long.

He hadn’t expected Frisk to be awake when he got back.

Frisk was so happy she’d finally met Papyrus, he was everything Sans had ever told her and more. His smile did light up a room, made you want to cheer up even when you felt like the world was on your back.

But she wasn’t so thrilled to see where she was, numbly accepted Papyrus’s reassurances and allowed him to seat her and place a plate of food in front of her.

Frisk didn’t want to be rude but...

Sans watched Frisk hesitate, her hands shaking nervously. It made him feel low, so low because he knew what she was thinking about, what she was trying to do.

“frisk.” She looked up shyly and stilled as she took in Sans’s downcast glaze, the look was enough to fill her growing dread with dark confirmation.

The guilt radiated off of him and she felt her throat go dry as his normally deep baritone came out even deeper.

“i had to feed you…while you were unconscious.”

She didn’t respond and it was enough to make Sans look up to see her golden eyes focused on the spaghetti in front of her. Papyrus even looked sad as he ate but he didn’t say anything. Tried to offer them a meek privacy as he downed a glass of milk.

Slowly and numbly Frisk picked up her fork, and the resignation in her expression as she twirled the noodles and slipped them into her mouth killed Sans a little inside. He couldn’t bring himself to look anywhere but his plate.

A faint touch made him tremble.

His eyelights snapped up and looked over to see her free hand gripping his across the table. He glanced at her cautiously but she kept her vision steadily locked on the food.

Frisk gave his hand a soft but firm squeeze.

His soul wanted to break as he returned it and hesitantly laced his fingers with hers.

A blush just as vibrant as the first one she’d ever given him broke across her face and that was enough to reassure him. Sans had begun to eat again when Frisk finally spared him a glance. Her smile weak but there.

Frisk’s love for him hadn’t changed.

And Frisk...

She supposed…at least she had him and that was enough.

It was later, a few nights after she’d been told everything that Sans found her sitting on the front steps of their home. The glow from the red moon turning her golden eyes rosy as she stared up at it with a hard to gauge expression.

He hadn’t taken but a few steps when she spoke up, her words halting him and coming out shy.

“Did you mean it?”

Sans narrowed his sockets and looked down at his feet. “yeah.”

Frisk didn’t say anything so Sans took the initiative and walked forward to sit next to her, his cloak falling and engulfing his form as he looked up at the moon next to her. He felt a pit of anxiety in his ribs, a sorrow at how everything had gone down for her to end up here but not an ounce of regret.

He jolted but quickly stilled at the feeling of Frisk leaning against him.

She felt melancholic. A bit disappointed but still she let out a weak chuckle.

“You couldn’t have said you loved me before I almost ended up kidnapped?” Despite himself Sans smiled.

“nah, that would’ve been what normal people do.” Frisk tilted her head over to him curiously.

“I’m not normal?” She sounded so vulnerable and fragile that Sans sucked in a harsh breath. Gently he raised a hand and ran his phalanges through her hair, the feeling so much more satisfying than it’d been when he was small in her world and did it the first time.

“you’re special frisk. at least to me, i wouldn’t trade you for anything.” Frisk looked down and closed her eyes, enjoyed the soothing petting of her head as she let out a thoughtful hum. Slowly she pulled back and stared at him in a way that left Sans’s soul beating furiously into his bones.

“Kiss me?”

His sockets went wide, his eyelights swelling in size that they nearly took up the dark voids they rested in. He swallowed around nothing and cupped her face, his hands exceedingly gentle as he smiled with all the affection he had for her.

“i love you.” He repeated, this time long and low with his passion. Frisk’s cheeks turned scarlet and her pale lips curved into a heartfelt smile as her hands came up to cover his.

“I love you too.” Slowly Sans leaned in, gave her time to pull back if she wanted and hesitated only a moment more before pressing his mouth to hers, The bony ridges that lined his teeth folding down like lips to lock with her soft and supple ones.

Frisk’s eyes slid closed as a burst of heat shot down to her toes and suddenly she yelped into the kiss as gravity left her. Still holding contact her eyes widened as she glanced down to see they were floating, a beguiling bright glow coming from beneath Sans’s cloak that fluttered around them from the night air.

Sans chuckled from the surprise he felt rolling off of her and pulled her more securely against him before letting the kiss break, his forehead touching hers as his bright eyelights hazed and wobbled precariously.

“sorry, could say you really swept me off my feet.” Frisk snorted with a playful roll of her eyes.

“An eternity of puns, oh no, whatever will I do?” He pressed his teeth in a chaste kiss to her forehead.

“just go with the float.” Frisk chuckled and the both of them looked up at the moon. Perfect contentment and healing already settling in their souls as they held each other.

#fransweek #2020 #day 6 #themes #prompts #adult frans #frans #sans x frisk #fluff #angst #undertale #Alternative Universe #tw abuse #My writing #faerytale-au #faerytale

220 notes · View notes

mysterioh · 4 years

Text

ᕼEᒪTEᖇ ᔕKEᒪTEᖇ - [1/8]

Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Cop!Reader

Summary: The year is 1989 and what better to prepare for the next decade than with a killing spree? A string of gruesome deaths has thrust the city of New York into absolute mayhem and terror causing intoxicating fear to settle within the niches of the city's underbelly. Having used up every trick in the book and earning nothing, Police Commissioner Stark seeks the aid of the NYPD's most elite task force.

A force of two.

A reticent genius and a cheeky casanova.

WARNINGS: Death, Murder, Graphic Depictions of Violence and Gore, Language, Usage of Drugs, All the makings of a Crime Show.

Written for @captainscanadian 1k Writing Challenge!

This is my first time writing crime so be nice to me alfskfjalsda.

Masterlist

A Call

8:30 P.M.

L’Artusi

New York, NY

Friday, October 13, 1989

“I thought you forgot about me,” Denise mused.

Her red-painted nails tinkled against the glass full of Pinot Noir in her hands.

“Me? Forget about you?” Bucky asked in mock surprise. He takes her free hand into his. “Never, sweetheart. I've been missing you.”

Denise smirks, prim and proper. She’s a beautiful woman with flawless skin kissed by the heated sun (or atleast the canned version) and sharp green eyes that swirl with blue under the right light. Her hair was curled, loaded with pints of hairspray to maintain it’s fluffy texture. She leans forward just a bit, letting the gold necklace adorning the bare skin just above her chest dip into her cleavage and taking Bucky’s eyes with it.

She brings his attention back to her with a light chuckle. “Miss me?" she repeats like she's mocking him. She plays with her glass, twirling the ruby red liquid inside, and avoids his eyes. "You haven’t spoken to me since that night,” she stated. She sounds like she’s teasing and careless but in reality, she’s hurt. Bucky can tell that much. “Not even a goodbye. Not even a phone call,” she croons and it has him soft and guilty.

Bucky chuckles nervously with a swipe of his fingers through his luscious brown locks. “It wasn’t intentional, Denise. I was just busy with work,” he explained.

"Too busy for me?" She pouts like a child, batting her long lashes and leans towards him, pushing her chest up while resting her arms on the table.

He smiles, finding her teasing a bit annoying. But he lets it slide cause she's got a pretty face.

"I just got caught up, I'm sorry, sweetheart." He takes her hand in his and kisses the back of it. "I'm all yours now," he says smoothly making the woman in front of him swoon.

"You're a darling, James, I've missed you," she giggled. He chuckles along to the melody of her voice. The cool steel of his eyes melted into a warm blue under the twinkling light of the crystal chandelier.

In the corner of his eyes, Bucky catches a dark figure walking towards him. Turning his head, his smile sinks when he sees you.

With every step in his direction, the irritated pout painted on your face tightens a bit more and he gulps quietly.

You strut towards him. Your scuffed Doc Martens squeak softly against the smooth tile of the restaurant. Your hair was tied back in a loose ponytail with strands shaping the sharp lines of your face.

Bucky wonders how they let you in while wearing those black ripped jeans paired with a thick black turtleneck tucked in loosely, and topped with a black knee length coat that left a trail of water behind you.

You probably just ignored them. That's what you always did.

The others in the room paused their conversation to raise a brow. Some murmured indignant remarks while others simply shrugged and returned to their meals.

As the distance between the two of you shortens, Bucky's mind runs rampid trying to think of all the things he could've done since yesterday to piss you off.

He emptied out the coffee machine when he was done with it.

He didn't eat the secret stash of chocolates you kept hidden behind the cans in the pantry.

He made sure to never touch your books without asking, even if you left them in the weirdest spots in the apartment.

Bucky can't think of anything. But even if he had, what could he have done that made you have to come and crash his date?

You stop in front of the table, water dripping and all, and he smiles nervously. The corners of his eyes crinkling as he does. Denise tilts her head in confusion at the sight of the drenched woman standing in front of them.

"There you are," you huffed, "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Bucky's brows wriggle in confusion. He laughs awkwardly. "Well you found me," he jokes.

You're not laughing.

Bucky stops laughing and clears his throat. “Right,” he grunts, “Uh—Y/N, this is Denise, my date,” he emphasizes.

The blonde smiles at you warmly, not minding your intrusive behavior. She lifts a hand towards you.

“Hi,” she chirps, “my name’s Denise, nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, hi,” you say in passing, not even taking her handshake. You look at Bucky. “We have to go.”

“What?” he furrows his brows. “Why?”

“Got a call,” you replied curtly.

“Well tell ‘em to leave a message,” he retorts, shooing you away with a hand.

You cross your arms over your chest and balance your weight on one leg. You give him that look. The look he doesn’t really have a name for. He only knows how to describe it.

You’re really gonna play this game with me?

Bucky tries not to look at you, but he knows you’re glaring down at him and you weren’t going to move.

He clicks his tongue and looks up to find you staring at him with cold eyes. He huffs in exasperation and excuses himself from the table by shooting an apologetic smile in Denise's direction.

He grabs you tight by the arm and pulls you along towards the lobby of the restaurant. You yank your arm out of his grasp and grunt.

“What’s so important that you couldn’t wait till later?” he snaps.

"It's urgent," you stated, unwavering in your stance.

"I don't care," he exclaims, making a few snooty waiters frown at him. "We’re taking the night off, remember?”

“Yeah, I know,” you retorted, “I was having a great night with Charlie but it’s important.”

Bucky shakes his head not wanting to listen to anything she said.

"It's Fury," you inform him. "So unless you wanna deal with him, we gotta go now."

He groans audibly. “You know what?” he scoffs, “Screw Fury. This is my first night off in the past two weeks and it’s yours too. So why don’t you go back home and snuggle with Charlie, huh?”

He turns on his heel and walks back to the table.

“Bucky,” you call him back. Your shoulders drop with a sigh. You didn’t have to say a word for Bucky to know you were tired. Your face showed it just fine. The bags under your eyes. The dull color of your irises.

Last time he saw you was earlier that night, snuggled up on the couch in pajamas with your cat napping in your lap and watching the evening news. You didn't have to say a word for him to know how you felt. You've never really had to and maybe that was the reason why you got along so well despite your polar personalities.

Bucky sighs. He’s tired too and he’s not gonna let anything take his one night away. “Go home, Y/N,” he replies and turns back to leave.

“It’s them,” you call out, making him stop once again.

Bucky whips his head back to you then slowly rotates his body. His stubbornness slowly dwindles. His tired eyes fought against the rush of excitement beginning to pool in. His soft lips slowly twist and bend simultaneously with yours and you know you've got him in the bag.

Friday night just got ten times better.

9:45 PM

Bed-Nos Avs Station

Bedford-Stuyvesant, NY

Friday, October 13, 1989

“So you’re telling me the Commissioner, big ol’ guy at the top,” Tony mocked, “Called you two,” he pointed at them, “to help me?”

“Did I stutter?” Bucky retorts.

Tony laughs from the belly. “I’ve heard better stories from a seven year old, get the hell out of you here, ya nosy reporters,” he waves you off and turns away.

“We’re not reporters,” you stated with a venomous twinge to your words. “Besides how the hell would we know this fast?”

Tony turns the two. They're just kids. Probably a few years older than Peter.

"Then I wanna see proof," Tony retorts, "Where are your badges?"

Bucky groaned in exasperation. "We don't have badges," he replies.

It wouldn't have killed Fury to tell his pigheaded men they were coming.

"Oh," Tony's eyes grow wide as he feigns confusion, "and why is that?"

“We work with the police not for the police,” Bucky explains.

Tony shrugs. “No badge, no entrance.”

A loud grumble escaped your mouth. "We don't have time for your games. Three people are dead and you haven't done anything to stop it. So why don't you move aside and let us work," you push past him.

Lifting the police line, you walk underneath and into the crime scene with Bucky right behind.

Tony stands there flabbergasted. No one knew of the murders just yet. The police had decided to keep the information confidential until they could figure out what was happening.

Tony stomps behind them, lifting the police line quickly and slipping underneath. "This is a crime scene and you're not allowed here,” he barks at them. Both of you pay him no mind. After putting on a pair of latex gloves, you pull a mini flashlight out of your pocket and begin to scan the alleyway and it only increases his frustration. "I'll have you arrested for this."

The two look at each other in confusion. "Arrested?” Bucky repeated mockingly. “Get outta here man,” he waves him off, beginning to inspect the area himself.

"Excuse me?" Tony fumes with Peter right behind him.

"Listen,” you stand straight with your hands on your hips. “Why don't you go call your boss and ask him who we are, hmmm?” you asked, sassily. “And let us do our work?” you gritted before turning back to your observations. You flashed your light over the strips of line used to mark the spot where the body should have been. The dim light flickering above wasn’t much of a help.

Tony’s lips pursed into a scowl. His jaw clenched tight. He wasn't going to give up just yet. "There is no work to be done,” he walks to Bucky and swipes the flashlight out of his hand. "We've already been through everything."

Bucky smiles and points a finger up as if to make a point. "As the great poet, Auden, once said: there's more than what meets the eye."

"Are you trying to say my team is incompetent?"

"Never," Bucky shakes his head innocently, "wouldn't want to hurt your feelings, now would we?" he gives Tony a condescending smirk before snatching his flashlight back.

Tony grumbles. He’s already having a bad day. He’s drenched to the bone, It’s past ten and he promised Morgan he’d make it home just in time for storytime. And now, he’s probably going to have to go home to hear a story from his dear wife of how his job was sucking the life out of him.

Which it was. Tony couldn’t deny it. Pepper was right. She was always right, but when she advised him that maybe it was time to leave the force and focus on things that were more important, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. He’s written a two-week notice a million times but it never left his desk unless it was going in the trash. His undying loyalty to his city was coming at the costly price of his family.

Tony watches the two do their thing and a part of him — the tired part of him — wants to give up and just let them do what they want. Who knows? They might just help him. But it’s his pride as Captain that stops him from doing so.

"Where's the body?" you questioned him.

"We picked it up,” he states flatly.

"Before you've done any type of investigation?"

"It's raining."

"It's dead."

Your tone is cold, callous would be the right word, and it catches Tony off guard for a few seconds.

"Give us the details,” you bring his focus back.

Tony sighs. He doesn’t want to say anything but ends up giving in. "Victim was a woman. Caucasian. Most likely middle aged–"

"Skip to the part that matters.,” you cut him off. You crouch down, umbrella in one hand and the other shining the light along the line of where the building meets the ground for any unseen clues.

"Stabbed in the chest repeatedly. Not a mugging or rape just a brutal murder."

"Find a weapon?"

"No."

"Witnesses?"

"No."

You look up at him with judgemental eyes. "Seems to me like you didn't get anything done."

Tony’s lips twist into an irritated pout. His eyes flit between you and Bucky. Your friend doesn’t really seem to mind your cutthroat behavior as if it’s normal that people act this rude.

"It's only been two hours."

You blink blankly at him. "It took an hour and a half to destroy Pearl Harbor. Ninety minutes and twenty-four hundred dead. Never underestimate the amount of damage a small amount of time can do."

Tony opens his mouth to retort but for the first time that night he had nothing to say.

"Alrighty, Captain, trivia question of the night," Bucky calls him.

Tony turns towards Bucky. He was grinning from ear to ear and Tony doesn’t understand why he’s so damn happy. They’re at a grisly crime scene for Pete’s sake. Bucky stands at the end of the alley towards the street. The rain had slowed to a soft drizzle.

"Which way did the killer come from?" Bucky asks. "Left or right?" he said, pointing in each direction with his head.

If Tony had to be honest, he didn’t think that far yet. "The left,” he says without a thought.

"Ehn’t!” He sounds like a buzzer on Jeopardy. “Guess again,”

Tony rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. "The right,” he points in the opposite direction.

Bucky laughs while shaking his head. "Wrong again."

Tony grunts. "Then where the hell did he come from?" He snaps at him.

"You said it just now.” Tony raises a brow at him like he’s crazy. "He came from hell,” he explains while pointing down. "Not literally from hell but from underground."

"The subway,” Peter chimes in, reminding the crew that he was still there.

"Ding ding ding,” the older brunette points at him.

"This isn't a game,” Tony bites.

"Life is but a game, my dear Captain,” Bucky sighed with a gentle shrug.

“How are you so sure that she came from the subway though?” Peter questioned.

“When’s the last time you’ve seen a white lady taking a stroll in the pouring rain in Bed-Stuy, kid?” he poses a question. Peter wags a finger at him in agreement.

“Also because of this,” you added. Their eyes traveled down to the ID dangling off a lanyard that was hooked by a single finger. “Louisa Clark worked as a receptionist at a hospital near 8th Ave,” you informed, digging into the plastic that held her ID and pulled out a receipt that was mildly wet. “She bought a few tokens at 6:45 this evening to get on the subway.”

“Where did you find that?” Tony took a step closer to see it.

“Where your men couldn’t.” you deadpanned.

Tony glares at you, but you remain steadfast in your expression. He’s not scaring you and he hates that.

"Rush hour ends around 6:30,” Bucky points out. “And after that the trains are practically empty."

"Making it a perfect time for a killer to strike,” Tony starts to connect the dots.

"So he got on the train at the same time and followed her until he had her cornered,” Peter blurted in excitement.

"Not exactly," you spoil his fun. His shoulders drop sadly, feeling a bit embarrassed. Tony pats Peter’s shoulder with a chortle. "We think that there may have been two of them."

“You mean two killers?" Tony questions.

"Yes, one to follow her and one to surprise her."

"That means they know her schedule,” Peter says in an attempt to redeem himself.

"Down to the minute," Bucky replies.

"But how can you say there were two?” Tony brings up the question. “You have no evidence."

"Harry Tucker," you named. "The first victim was a fifty-three year old Vietnam vet working as a security guard at a bank.”

Tony’s eyes grow wide in shock. "How do you know that? That's confidential information."

Bucky laughs, taunting the Captain. "We know a lot of things,” he looks at the man with a despicable smile. Tony holds back the urge to punch his pretty face. “Like I said, your boss asked us to help you so we did a little homework before coming."

"Anyway…” you bring them back. “he's a big guy but got killed the same exact way. Unless our killer's the Terminator, there had to be two,” you point to fingers up. “One to hold him down and the other to strike."

"That's amazing,” Peter gasps in awe. Tony sticks his nose in the air and huffs like a child.

"I don't believe you,” Tony denies them.

"Never said you had to." Bucky shrugs. "But in a case like this anything is possible."

"We'd like to inspect the subway,” you pointed across the street. “If that's alright with you."

Tony clicks his tongue and rubs the back of his aching neck. "I don't own the damn subway, do what you want. Not like you haven't been doing that already. Besides I've got a call to make.” he grumbles as he leaves with Peter behind him. "

The two of you slip underneath the police line and walk across the cleared street with only Tony’s car left behind. You leave your umbrella at the top of the stairs and run down with Bucky right behind you.

"Y'know, you could've at least acknowledged her,” Bucky pipes up.

"What?" you turn to him while walking down.

"Denise,” he reminds, “She was right there and you ignored her."

You shrugged indifferently. "I don't see why I should fraternize with people I'll probably never see again."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Buck, you have a new girlfriend every week," you deadpan while jumping over the subway throng.

"I do not!" he mimics your actions.

"Denial is the first step to self-destruction, Bucko," you point out, looking around.

Nothing out of the ordinary. The air is humid due to the rain. The aged walls are grey with paint and signatures in crude letters all over. The concrete ground was splayed with cracks and decorated with litter—old newspapers, empty bags of chips, and garbage. Not a single soul in sight. Not even a rat.

The train rests in its spot. The doors were opened, letting the stale odor of a day’s worth of human mass mix with sticky air.

A perfect setting for a murder scene.

"Besides, Janet, Susie, Dani from the music store,” you counted on your fingers, “the receptionist at HQ shall I go on?"

Bucky rolls his eyes as he steps into one of the cars to make a quick check. "Okay, the fact that you know about all the girls I've ever come across is just plain weird,” he remarked.

"I don't think you remember but I am first a detective hence the good observation skills and second, your unfortunate partner and roommate."

Bucky laughs loudly making his voice echo through the station and the dark tunnel. "Sounds more to me like you're jealous that I'm not taking you out on a date?"

You stop mid walk and turn back to him with a scowl painted on your face. He thinks it's cute. "You're delusional,” you retorted.

"But am I wrong?" he counters with an egotistical smirk. You can practically see the pride oozing off of him. You didn’t know where he got it from. He had zero personality and was as dumb as a doorknob. But then again, a fool doesn’t really know he’s a fool.

"I don't have time to waste on you,” you grumble at him.

Suddenly, the doors of the train slam shut making the two of you jump back and turn towards the train. The quiet chills your body, igniting goosebumps to bud along the skin of your arm despite the thick layers of cotton over them.

The bell blares in tandem with blinking red lights signaling the train’s departure from the platform. It threatens like an omen, warning you of the things to come.

The train departs, slowly at first then accelerating as the cars pass by one by one. A gust of fresh wind blows through the errant strands of your hair as the train speeds past. The sound of wheels chugging along the metal tracks echoes down the tunnel, growing distant with the drag of every minute.

The sudden burst of fear from the signal bell dies but leaves a sense of apprehension within the two and a message sprayed along the tiled wall across the platform in scarlet red.

“ꜱᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴀʟʟ ʙᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʟᴀꜱᴛ”

- ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴏᴇᴅɪᴘᴜꜱ

TAGLIST: @chuckennuggets1213 @murdermornings @miraclesoflove @fckdeusername @marshyrebelcloud @flyingowls

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #cop!bucky barnes x reader #cop!bucky barnes x cop!reader #cop! au #detective! au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #cbc1kwc

96 notes · View notes

axwalker · 4 years

Text

Meet my MC: Alexis O’Brien

Thank you for the ask @mskaneko . This was so fun!! I got a little carried away... 🙈

Thank you for the tag @debramcg1106 ❤️

Alexis’s life changes deeply in every AU so I used my canon Alexis to answer these questions.

1. Name (+ bonus why did you choose that name?)

Alexis O'Brien. I've always liked the names 'Jade' and 'Alexis.' The last name was a momentary inspiration because I love Ireland.

2. Faceclaim

The beautiful Valerie Dominguez (aka my on-line girlfriend)

3. Nicknames

O’Brien / Lexie/ Lex/ Blossom.

4. Birthday

April 30th (I headcanon that she's 23 when the Social Season starts.)

5. Height

She's 1,70 cm (5'57")

6. Eye color

Brown

7. Hair color

Light brown

8. Love interest (why did she choose this person?)

Drake Walker is the love of her life. Alexis felt deeply attracted to Drake since she met him. Something about the deep voice, the chocolate eyes, and his strong arms. When they started to spend time together, she realized how much they had in common. Their connection quickly became a solid friendship as they confided in each other while drinking whiskey together after every event of the social season. Alexis fell for Drake's sarcastic sense of humor, flirty banter, and intelligence. But her favorite thing about him is his fierce protectiveness and how he tries to act tough and brooding around everyone except for her. Now that they're married, they form an exceptional, unbreakable team.

9. Best friend

Olivia Nevrakis and Maxwell Beaumont.

10. Personality traits

Alexis is a free-spirit. She's idealistic and passionate about her beliefs. She's very kind and generous, but once her trust is lost is very difficult to get it back. She's adventurous, loves to travel, and has surprised Drake more than once with last-minute weekends and trips. She's very competitive, she and Drake play all the time. She loves books and writing; ancient libraries are her happy place. She's very disorganized and unpunctual. Her head is on the clouds, and she always forgets her keys, or where she parked her car. Her emotions are powerful, she feels everything very intensely.

She's fiercely protective of Drake and her children and would kill for them if necessary.

11. Family background

She's half Mexican, half Irish American.

Her parents, Elena Ortiz and George O'Brien, met in High School. After a five-month relationship, Elena got pregnant. As they both came from an extremely religious background, they got married.

George turned out to be an abusive, rigid, sexist husband. They wasted 10 awful years together, but one morning George left Elena for his assistant and never came back. He has a son with his new wife and rarely sees Alexis. She tried to have a relationship with him until she realized the kind of man her father is.

Alexis grew up happily with her mom and widow grandmother. They had a small Mexican Fonda in Brooklyn. When Alexis turned 18, her mother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and died only six months later. Her grandmother passed away two years later from an aneurism.

She has a deep-rooted abandonment issue.

12. Hometown

Brooklyn, NY.

13. Education

She has a degree in English Literature. She sold her family's small restaurant and got a job as a waitress to be able to afford a small college in NY. When she met the guys, she was working three different jobs so she could save money to study a master's degree in Literary Translation.

14. What languages does she know?

Alexis is bilingual in English/Spanish and speaks good French. Her French teacher in high school was a sort of mentor for her. She loves languages, so now that she lives in Cordonia, she's trying to learn Greek too. Drake is a great teacher 😉

15. Occupation

Before flying to Cordonia, Alexis gave private Spanish lessons to kids, worked as a waitress at the dive bar where she met Drake, and, on the weekends, she worked as a bartender at an Irish Pub.

In Cordonia, she was the Duchess of Valtoria for a while, but after two hellish years, she and Drake left the 'noble' life. With Drake's support, she went back to school in Cordonia and got her master's degree. For the moment, she works as a Literary Translator, but eventually, she will become a writer.

16. Dream job

Her dream is to write children's books. Her absolute personal hero is J.K. Rowling.

17. Hidden talent

Dancing. Alexis doesn't hide it, though. Dance is her passion, especially Latin music.

She has a superhuman resistance to alcohol. Irish genes.

18. Her strengths

She's hardworking.

She’s determined.

She's empathic.

She can make friends easily.

19. Her weaknesses

She's very disorganized.

She's stubborn and doesn't forgive easily.

She's highly emotional, which can be a source of anxiety and stress.

20. Pet peeves

People who are rude to waiters or any other person in the service industry. She can't stand it under any circumstance.

People who cut lines.

21. Guilty pleasure

Mexican soap operas. Alexis used to watch them with her mom and grandma, and now she's addicted. Sometimes, she convinces Drake to watch one with her; he needs to practice his Spanish anyway.

22. Ideal outfit

In the summer, she loves wearing short, flowy dresses with leather, flat sandals.

In the winter, cozy jumpers, skinny jeans, and low black boots.

23. Favorite season

Fall. The colors, the soft sun rays, the crispy atmosphere, the smells. Everything about it.

24. Favorite vacation spot

Ireland, her grandfather’s country. He used to tell her a lot of stories about it when she was a child, when she finally went she absolutely loved it.

25. Celebrity crush

Michael Fassbender

26. Who is her inspiration

Her mom. Elena was a single mother, but she never felt sorry for herself. She worked hard at her restaurant all day, then studied at night to get her college degree on-line. She loved life and was protective and generous. Alexis has never really got over her death.

27. Whats is the craziest thing she has ever done?

She took a plane with two strangers to a country she had never heard of before.

28. Describe her dream date

A late-night picnic under the stars with a good bottle of whiskey, some cheeses, and Drake. In a very secluded, private place.

29. What's more important for her in a relationship: physical attraction or emotional connection?

Both. The physical attraction is what first drew her to Drake. They're profoundly attracted to each other, and that sort of electrical, physical connection is very difficult to find. After years together, they still can't keep their hands off each other, and it has always been helpful when they're going through a rough patch.

The emotional connection is what makes them happy and crazy in love. They trust each other, make each other laugh, and they're best friends. What they share is unique, and they're aware of it.

30. Three things she would take to a desert island

Things, not people? Ok:

Her first copy of 'One Hundred Years of Solitude.' A gift from her mom.

Her illustrated collection of Harry Potter's books, a gift from Drake.

Her family album with her children's pictures and gifts (cards, letters and drawings.)

31. What is one thing she could never forgive?

Cheating. Never. But she has nothing to worry about 

32. What gets her out of bed in the morning?

Sex with Drake, one of her children crying, strong, black coffee.

33. What does she use more often: her intuition or logical reasoning?

100% intuition

34. Would she rather be alone doing something she enjoy, or doing something she does't like with her best friends?

Difficult question. She loves reading and writing, which are 'alone' activities. But she'll do something she hates for her friends if they really want to.

35. What's her biggest regret?

Accepting the Duchy of Valtoria and making her child the heir. She got out of it, but there were terrible years.

Bonus: three random facts about your MC

She was arrested once while she was in a protest for Women's Rights

She LOVES to eat. Passionately.

She loves big dogs. They have one Labrador and one Golden retriever.

#meet my mc #drake walker x mc #alexis o'brien #drake x alexis

17 notes · View notes

caroline18mars · 4 years

Text

A Man On Fire - Chapter 76

“So..where to? Hotel? I’ve booked us a couple of rooms, but if you want to go back to your place, that’s fine too” Jared put his arm around her as they waved goodbye to Arno going back to his hotel after dinner, “no, that hotel is fine, somehow I don’t feel like going back home right now..” she took his hand “is it far, because I kinda feel like walking? You know, clear my head, and cuddle up close walking next to you”. He could have sworn that his heart had just exploded in his chest , why did he order two rooms? he needed to feel her, preferably underneath him..no, he was gonna be a gentleman about this, she would set the pace not the other way round, she had gone through some heavy stuff the last couple of days, flown from NY to LA and back again, see her father finally, her brother trying to reconnect, oh no, she was definitely gonna set the pace, she’ll thank you later for it. An hour and a subway ride later, it had really been too far to walk the whole distance, they walked inside the hotel where Jared picked up their keycards, handing her the one of her own room once they were in the elevator, she wasn’t ready to sleep with him yet but then again she wasn’t ready to be alone tonight either, she just wanted peace and quiet, oh why did he have to pick two rooms in the first place?, shhh, shut up Harper, at least he’s being a real gentleman about this, he’s been nothing but supportive towards you and given you all the space you want. “So, you tired or do you wanna come in for a late night drink or something?” he smiled, feeling a little awkward, “I won’t be able to sleep so yeah I’ll come in with you for a while” she stood on her tiptoes and let her lips graze against his, his body deprived for too long of her touch reacted instantly “alright” he pulled away from her and quickly opened the door and walked in, his back turned to her at all time. Why was he so quick to walk away? she’d expected him to kiss the living daylights out of her instead of checking his phone, “you ok?” she closed the distance between them, “what? Yeah sure, don’t worry about me, I’m the one who is worrying about you” he looked over his shoulder while he poured them a drink. “I mean, listening to Arno and you..it was like you two were talking in code at times” Jared handed her a glass, “code? What do you mean? We didn’t even..I even made absolutely sure not to talk Italian” she was completely lost, looking surprised and shocked about his statement.

“No, I know, but you might have well talked Italian..the ‘abuse’ subject and the way you surf so smoothly around it just breaks my heart” oucchhh, the minute the words left his mouth, he knew he had overstept his boundaries and it was clear in her reaction that he had, “excuse me? Surf smoothly? Really? This is exactly the reason I never go into details about it, nevermind, I’m tired, I’m going to bed” stay calm, Harper, you both had a rough 24 hours, you don’t want to start a fight right now, she tried to calm herself down but was almost unable to. “No, Harper, please, stay! That came out all wrong, I’m sorry” before she could grab her bag, he had already stopped her from going anywhere, “I don’t want to talk about it, Jared” she looked up at him with those big, adorable brown eyes, “I know this is hard for you, but you know you can talk to me about it, just..talk to me”. Harper hesitated, in no way was she ready to talk about this, but had she been ready to talk about it with Arno? No! but she did, and yes in a certain kind of code..or at least that's what it probably sounded and seemed like to him. “Ok, fine” she straightened her back like she was getting ready for battle, the fire in her eyes blazing now, “let’s just sit down, alright?” Jared guided her towards the super comfy couch. Ok, now that he had her attention, how the hell did you start a conversation about such a touchy subject? “what do you want to know?” she pulled her legs underneath her, nervously sipping her drink, “Come here” he leaned over to her, cupped her chin and plucked a kiss from her lips, “that’s better” he smiled, which immediately calmed her down as well. Jared cuddled up to her, putting his arm around her to make absolutely sure she felt safe and loved, he didn’t ask questions, he just let her fill in the gaps herself.

“I’ve never really discussed this with anyone” she sighed, “I know, most of us know about the abuse, but nobody knows the details of it” Jared pulled her closer against him, “not that you owe anyone an explanation or anything, I just thought you might want to get some of it off your chest, make you feel a bit better, you know”. Harper slowly sipped her drink for courage “I know and I appreciate it..I don’t know where to start” it was so difficult to start explaining because she honestly didn’t know where to begin, instead Jared fired the first shot, “he didn’t..I mean he didn’t hurt you..well you know..he didn’t sexually abuse you, did he?” Jared somehow felt his stomach drop now that the word was spoken. “What? NO! oh no no no, god no” she was shocked to hear him say it but at the same time she understood that that subject was on his mind as she probably had thrown up a lot of fog around the subject in the past by not speaking about it, “no, he never touched me in that way, my Dad may be a lot of things but not a sexual predator, that’s for sure” she immediately saw a weight lifting off his shoulders. “He just loved to punish me, and not just for things I did or did not do, I was just a punching bag for his frustrations” she shrugged, “and it was just you? He totally singled you out?” his heart was breaking but he was glad she was talking at least, “yup! After he first raised his hand at me, everything changed, my personality changed and after a while it became my new ‘normal’, my brothers and sisters always made fun of me for being the one who never said anything at the dinner table for example or for not wanting to play outside with them..my happiest moments were when he was gone on business trip and my mother usually joined him after a week or so, but then he had to come back again..”

Jared felt her shiver just talking about it. “I just don’t get it why anyone would raise his hand to his own child, I just don’t get it..but so Arno knows now..” Jared felt an anger rise up he had rarely felt, but it was key to ignore it, none of that would help her along anyway, “it’s weird, I mean, I always thought he had known for years, he never approached or talked to me about it, never had any questions, he was old enough at the time to know better..I guess that’s difficult to forget, I’ll see him tomorrow though, we agreed to meet at the gallery, he wanted to see my work and we’ll go grab a coffee, and talk some more, so..”. Jared sat up a bit, “oh..ok, so you have tomorrow all planned already..?” why was he suddenly feeling so left out?, maybe because she was only telling him now, which was so not her thing, “yes I do, but you can come too, in fact I’ll need you there, for support, you know” . Jared gave her a faint smile and a nod, “oh come on now, don’t sulk..you know what? I’m completely done with this entire topic” she turned in his arms and kissed him, her mouth drifting from his mouth to his ear down to his throat, oh yes, he definitely like the way this was going, uh-uh, but then..his phone rang through their make-out session.

“Take it”, she let go of him and got up to get another drink and just like that the moment was gone and a veil of sorrow covered her again, “oh no..it’s Steph” he hung his head in defeat, not exactly the name she wanted to hear, but hey at least he was honest about it. By the time he got back inside the room he found her curled up into a little ball on the end of the bed, even the way she slept was mesmerizing, and he was so relieved that she hadn’t given up on him and gone back to her own room, ever so gently he picked her up so she wouldn’t wake up and put her on the right side of the bed, pulling the duvet over her. He quickly dropped his clothes and slid in next to her, it felt so good to be beside her again, the warmth of her body, her long beautiful hair spread out like a halo all over the pillow, it instantly made him forget about the nasty conversation he just had with Steph, no, she wasn’t important, never was, the most precious and most important person was lying here next to him.

Harper flew up in bed waking up from a haunting nightmare, where was she? What? Who? Jared..oh god, yes the hotel, it was just a dream..”What is it? You ok? Bad dream?” Jared who had been roused from his slumber because of her bloodcurdling scream shuffled over to her pulling her against his chest, “hey shhhhh, it's ok, I'm here, it's ok” he comforted her. “What..was that?” she looked around her again, still rattled, “I need to call Arno..”, Jared shuffled even closer “call your brother? But it's the middle of night” he had no idea what was going on. When she grabbed her phone, she saw he was right, it was the middle of the night, and Arno didn't call her..maybe things were alright after all, “oh Jay, it was horrible, my Dad had died and my mother was there and she was..” she took a deep breath and shook her head, there was absolutely no need to relive it “doesn't matter..Arno would have called right?”. Jared kissed her hair “I'm sure he would have” which reassured her until she realized “just for your information, this was not where I was planning on staying..why am I in my underwear?” she looked at her state of undress. “You kidding? As if I would carry this sleeping beauty in my bed all the way back to her own room? Believe me, my back is really grateful even if you're as light as a feather!” he grinned, plucking a kiss from her lips “and yes I undressed you, nothing I haven't done before right?”. She leaned into the kiss and deepened it before she slowly pulled back and breathed “and I loved every second of every time you did” she could tell he was trying to be a good boy about this, respecting the boundaries that had been put in place by her, but those days were gone, she needed him and from as far as she could tell, he needed her too. Harper took his hand and lifted it up to her shoulder, making sure he couldn't do anything else than hook a finger under her bra strap “babe..I don't know..” his voice was raspy and unstable, he knew what she wanted but was it for all the right reasons? If they did this then there was no way back and what if she wanted to stop when it got too much after all? He didn't know, no, he was absolutely sure he wouldn't be able to stop. “Oh but I know..I'm absolutely sure..I want you, I need you” she breathed against his mouth again and sat up a bit so he had better access, and gave him the opportunity to push the strap down her shoulder. The touch of his hand on her naked skin was absolutely electrifying and finally he was pushed over the edge and he wasted no time to unclasp her bra, dropping it between them, and from then on everything happened so quick. He pushed her back on the mattress, his hungry mouth grazing over her already hard nipple. “I love you so much” he whispered, making sure her other nipple didn't feel left out, his hands were taking their time rediscovering her glorious body.

#jared leto #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fanfiction #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #30secondstomars #30 Seconds To Mars #30 secondstomars fanfic #a man on fire #chapter 76 #Harper Coco #Harper and Jared #caroline18mars

19 notes · View notes

r3b3lgrrrrrrrl · 4 years

Text

A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 98) "Ring Around The Ruby"

@creatureofthen1ght-v3 @crystalbaby12 @mgkobsessed @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @5sosfam1dlover @lovemythsworld ...still trying Bra 🖤

Are we sure we have everything??" Luna asks as she plays with her padlock, she finds herself doing that whenever she's nervous.

After breakfast with Casie. A morning ShowerFuck, lines and a burn session with Colson in the bathroom. Luna's dressed in a simple, white, silk dress. Black chucks and light makeup. Shockingly, she throws on no jewelery except her ring, which never comes off. Her long hair flowing around her. Looking around their hotel suite, Luna has a hard enough time keeping track of herself, let alone two other people's stuff.

"You double checked that you've got your necklace, Diablo shirt and sunglasses?" She asks Casie.

"Yup." She nods proudly at Luna.

"What Diablo shirt?" Colson whips around.

"Your purple one....." Luna answers.

"Why didn't you give her yours? It's smaller." He challenges her.

"Because I've already altered mine... To fit me." She answers with her eyebrows raised.

Fully aware of what she's hinting at, Colson's dick twitches. The memory of their first performance and Luna's homemade Diablo shirt floating around in his brain.

Colson sighs out a Fine with a smile at Casie. She can have anything she wants. Of his or The World's. Not even caring as long as His Peanut is happy. Unknown to him, Luna had already grabbed a replacement. The Three of Them taking care of each other in ways they don't even realize. --------------------------------------------------

Outside The Jacquard, Colson's Eleven are the same Assholes they always are. Each loudly squeezing Casie tight with huge kisses on the cheek. Slim spinning her in circles until they're both dizzy and laughing.

"Uncle Slim!!!" She giggles as she sees triples.

Finding her balance, Casie spots Sam. Through the week they had become great friends.

"It was really rad to meet you." Sam says as she squats down to do her secret handshake with Casie.

"Will you be at EstFEST for our wedding? She asks.

"I'll be at both. I wouldn't miss them for a thousand crabby patties." Her response making Casie laugh as she jumps into Sam, knocking her down.

Caught off guard, Sam laughs loudly with her as she falls back onto the pavement. Shockingly pleased by The Cool Ass Kid's grip.

Baze and Luna both watching them. Luna's soul flittering at this new side of Sammy. Baze almost sure he's in love with the Wild Drummer.

Hugging her bestfriend, Luna teases her lightly in her ear. "Fuck you." Sam laughs.

Gripping each other tight, they agree to see each other in Seattle. Behave... Luna smirks to another one of Sam's Fuck Yous.

As Luna and Ashleigh hug GoodBye, she Thanks Luna again. To her solid squeeze and Stop. Both knowing their friendship is genuine. Flowing beyond their relationships with Colson.

"Alright... Alright... She's only gonna be gonna for two days!" Colson laughs at the two of them.

"Two days too long!!" Ashleigh complains, loving another woman on The Bus with her.

Ashleigh and Sam get along very well but Luna helps Ashleigh run shit. With Luna by Colson's side, this has been Ashleigh's least stressful tour. In almost 10yrs.

With the uber arriving to carry The Three of Them to the airport, The Boys hug and kiss Luna and Casie a dozen more times. Laughing at Colson and giving him daps when he complains about Where's His Love.

"We'll see you tonight, Bitch." Rook laughs at him as he squeezes Luna. "Good luck, Bro.... Not that your badass needs it." He grins after pecking her cheek as they squeeze GoodBye.

Rook is Luna's favorite Drummer Boy. Luna is Rook's favorite Bitch. She rocks with all The Boys but those two are true Roll Dawgs. Both appreciating each other since their first conversation the night of Colson's Birthday Dinner at Tao.

"WE LOOOVE YOUSSSS!!!" Luna hollers out the car window as she heads off with Casie and Colson.

Preparing for the 13hr ride in front of them to Boise, The Remaining Eight fuck around a bit longer. Climbing on, The Bus feels a little off without Their Core. This does not stop the smoke, music and drinks from flowing though. It just makes it feel.... Different.

--------------------------------------------------

Sat in first class between Luna and Colson, Casie is talking a mile a minute. Both Luna and Colson requesting a Bloody Mary immediately. Grinning at each other over her talking head.

It's a 3hr flight. Having them hit Cleveland before 4P. Pulling out her carry on, Luna shares her art supplies with Casie.

Colson sips his drink as His Girls draw. Casie excitedly talking about Their Weddings.

"You know what we've still gotta do?" Luna asks the rambling child.

"What?" She asks as she lifts her face from her artwork

"Get you fitted you for your dresses." Luna shines into her sketch book.

"Dresses!!! Like TWO!!" Casie yells with wide excited eyes.

"Yeah, Dill. Two weddings. Two dresses, SugarPop." Luna laughs at her, looking up from the drawing she's working on.

"Jesus fucking Christ, I fucking love her." Colson thinks as uncharacteristic tears well in his eyes.

"AHHHH!!!" Casie shouts in excitement to both of their grins.

Colson reaches over, turning Luna's chin to sink a grateful kiss onto her lips as Casie's mid squeeze. The girl not minding being crushed in between the love of the two of them.

Just as they're about to land, Luna hands Colson her sketch. It's a crude drawing of the two of them embracing.

"Fuck. I love it." His heart beats faster as he studies it. "Tuck it in your book until we get home?" He asks to her smiling nod.

-------------------------------------------------

"Oooh!!!! My BAAAABY!!!" Emma exclaims as Casie runs into her open arms.

"I missed you so much, Mommy!!" Casie says as she falls into her tight grasp.

Colson and Luna watching the two. Their love for each other overflowing all over their front yard as they roll around in hugs and laughter.

"She's such a good mom." Luna whispers to Colson in admiration of Emma.

"She really is." Colson says proudly as he throws his arm around Luna.

Smooching her cheek, he grabs Casie's bags. Carrying them inside. There are many things that can be said about Colson Baker. Attentive to His, should truly be the first description.

Inside Casie erupts into the details of her week long adventure. Performing OnStage, swimming, jumping and diving last night, sitting with Patti during the taping of Ellen, The Planetarium and The Butterfly Exhibit. Forgetting about the Splash Park as she happily yells about how the butterflies flew all around them, kissing her and Luna's skin. All the while, simultaneously showing Emma her new treasures.

"We went EVERYWHERE, MOMMY!!!" We even bought a house in NY. MOM!! I LIVE IN NEW YORK CITY NOW!!!" She shouts while bouncing around the kitchen.

Those words cause Emma to shoot a quick Look between Colson and Luna. Wondering WHAT THE FUCK HER CHILD IS TALKING ABOUT.

"We're about to make settlement on a brownstone so we have a place in The City. Kinda like here and LA." Luna speaks up to reassure her.

Emma giving Luna an accepting and understanding nod. She turns back to the chattering little girl.

"So, you had fun?" She asks her daughter.

"SO MUCH FUN, MOM!!" Casie screams to Emma's laughter.

Colson and Emma touch base as Luna helps Casie with her luggage. Alone in the kitchen, Emma speaks freely.

"Don't fuck this up, Kells. She's good for you and Case already loves her. I know you're getting married next month, but, PLEASE. Don't fuck this up. For you or her." Emma pleads with the man she's known almost longer than half of her life.

"I don't want to, Em...." Colson replies with concerned eyes. "But, I'm so fucking afraid I will."

Emma reaches to hug him. "Keep that fear and you won't." She tells him honestly as they embrace tightly.

There's something to be said about co-parents who are friends that genuinely care for each other. It's a beautiful thing. Truly.

-------------------------------------------------

Outside, before Luna and Colson catch their uber to his house, The Family embraces each other GoodBye individually. There's a comforting warmth that flows through them.

As Colson and Casie say their GoodByes, Luna and Emma hug each other tightly. Probably tighter than they've ever held each other before. Emma whispering a Thank You for Taking Care of My Baby Girl. Luna squeezing her a smidge tighter to Thank Emma for Trusting Her With Casie. Breaking apart, the women look each other in the eyes. Both happy to have each other in their lives.

"I loooooove YOOOOU!!!" Luna swings a laughing Casie around. "See you soon?"

"Yup." Casie grins.

"Find a new home for your necklace for bed and shower time?" Luna asks with a tinge of authority.

"YES." Casie asserts, grin wider.

"Good shit. Love you, Dill." Luna holds Her Girl close and tight.

Emma appreciating the way they interact with each other as she watches them. Knowing Casie is safe with Luna.

"Ready, Kitten?" Colson asks as he kisses the top of Luna's head.

Before leaving, he grabs Casie again loving on her like there's no tomorrow. Giggling as his kisses tickle her skin.

After setting Casie down and saying their final GoodByes, he grabs Luna's hand. Leading her to the waiting uber. While in Cleveland, Colson has a specific mission.

-------------------------------------------------

On The Bus, somewhere between Colorado and Idaho, Sam has convinced Ashleigh to get fucked up with her and The Boys.

Cards are being thrown with jokes as music flows. Smoke billowing throughout The Bus.

Leaning into Baze, Sam seductively asks "How pissed you think they'd be if we stole their bed tonight?" Wicked grin spreading across her pretty face.

"Wanna find out?" He grins back to her tantalizing giggle.

--------------------------------------------------

Inside The Cleveland House, Colson heads straight upstairs. Luna outside to smoke a cigarette. She doesn't like smoking around Casie so it's been HOURS.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Opening the door to his safe, Colson pulls out a tiny box. Opening it, the huge ruby gleams at him. Solidifying that he knows he made the right decision.

Having been almost a month since he last gazed at it, he can't help but be proud of himself. And Rook. "It's perfect. Beautiful and unique. Just like her.... She's gonna love it." He thinks excitedly.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Luna's chain smoking on the picnic table out back. Letting the warm summer sun kiss her colorful skin.

"Come're...." Colson tries to coax her.

"Whhhhyyyy.....?" Luna whines as she scrunches her face, wanting to light another cigarette.

"Just shut the fuck up and come here." Colson tells her.

"Fine." Luna pouts as she takes his hand.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Walking into the kitchen, Colson hits play on a remote. Taking Luna in his arms as Clapton begins to float around them.

youtube

He sings to her the same way he did the night they first met. Holding her close and changing whichever lyrics he chooses. Luna's so dumb she doesn't know what's happening. She just thinks Colson's sweet as she rests inside of him.

As the ending guitar chords float away, Colson drops to his knee. Having the song on repeat, he takes Luna's hand as it continues to drift around them.

"What the fuck are you doing?" She asks, slightly bewildered.

"Doing this shit right." He asserts.

Looking up at her, Colson sees his entire future in Luna's eyes. Taking a deep breath, he has nothing prepared as usual. Their whole relationship is based off of instinct.

"I know you love the ring I made for you but I bought you a real one way before it. If you don't like it, we'll fix it or...." He says as he holds her left hand, slipping the metal string off her finger and setting it on the kitchen island. "You can keep the one you have.... Just as long as you promise to still marry me." He says as he pops the lid.

It's a gorgeous 10 carat oval ruby. Surrounded by small diamonds. Taking Luna's breath away on sight.

"I know you don't do diamonds, so, it's your birthstone with mine wrapped around it to protect you.... Not that you need protec...."

Colson can't even finish his sentence before Luna's on her knees in front of him. Tears falling down her cheeks as her kisses shut him up.

Her bare hands run up the sides of his face as she sinks her deep kisses into his mouth. Pushing him off his knees to straddle him. Their kisses are passionate and heavy as Colson tangles his fingers in her hair. Pulling out of her kiss, he gently holds her face in his large hands.

"Is that a Yes?" He asks.

"That's a FUCK YES." She laughs as she pushes her mouth back onto his.

Unable to contain themselves, Luna unbuckles Colson's belt. Lifting up, he helps her pull them down. Only bothering to pull her panties to the side, Luna guides him inside of her. Both groaning in pleasure.

Kissing each other sloppily as Luna slides up and down on Colson's cock he needs her body. Pulling her dress over her head, he's beyond pleased to find her braless as he suckles her pierced breasts. Naked, she bucks against him. Wanting her more than ever before, he carefully flips her on her back.

Throwing her legs over his shoulders, Colson pushes deep inside of Luna. Making her moan in pleasure as he fucks her on the kitchen floor. Mouth kissing hers as if they'll both die without the other. Moving to her cheeks, he kisses anywhere he can reach. Both whispering Sweet Nothing's instead of their normal Dirty Words.

Feeling her thighs grip his waist and walls clench his cock, he nuzzles into her neck and ear. Claiming I FUCKING LOVE YOU as they cum for each other.

Satisfied, Colson rests on top of her. He's by no means fat but Luna's tiny and with her gunshot wound he feels like he has to be extra careful with her. Kissing her forehead, he rolls out of her. Reaching blindly on the ground around them, he finds the box.

Sliding his arm under her head, he presents the symbol of their commitment. Asking Yes? With love pouring out of her eyeballs and heart, she gives him a teasing smile.

"I mean I guess I could say Yes for the 110th time." She laughs as she rolls towards him, locking her lips onto his.

Their kisses say EVERYTHING. Things that even couples who've been married for 50yrs still can't say.

Holding her hand out, Colson slips his ring upon her finger. Holding her hand out in front of them, they clutch each other while they both try to hold back tears.

"It's fucking beautiful." She happily sighs.

"I told you not to doubt me." He lightly chuckles as he pulls her tighter.

Teasing her about how he knows what she likes. Laughing out a Fuck You, she climbs back on top of him.

Taking her time as she slowly rides him. Enjoying every inch of his dick along with every touch from his hands and mouth.

Luna and Colson don't make love. They fuck like animals but on the kitchen floor with his ring on her finger their touches are softer. Kinder. Gentle as they enjoy every inch of each other in the afternoon sunlight.

It's a long, hard cum. Both feeling like they may seize out from the pleasure. Completely entwined in each other, they take a light, naked, engaged, snooze on the kitchen floor. The excitement of a life together dancing in both of their heads.

--------------------------------------------------

Colson stirs first. The hard floor waking him up against Luna's warm body. Brushing her hair from her face, he looks down. The huge ruby glistening on her finger catches his eye as her hand rests on his chest.

"Fuck.... How'd I get so fucking lucky?" He questions himself. "Em's right.... I can't fuck this up." His heart begins to panic.

Feeling his chest pounding under her hand, it's as if her sixth sense kicks in. Opening her eyes, she asks if He's Okay.

"As long as I'm with you." He answers, kissing her sweetly on her forehead.

"Mmmm..." She nuzzles into him contently. "What time is it?" She asks.

"I don't know, but we should move. We gotta be outta here by 9P...." He answers.

Luna pouts as she nuzzles into his chest. Asking if They Can Quit Their Jobs And Be Pirates. Please. Colson lightly laughs at her fantastic request. Asserting that Being Pirates Would Be Awesome Buuut He Doesn't Think It's That Easy. Leaving Luna to sigh in disappointment.

"Come on...." He begins to shift off the floor.

"Noooo.... I don't wanna...." She whines as he moves to pull her up to stand with him.

"I know... Me neither. 10 days though." He reminds her with a twinkle in his eyes.

This makes her move. Slapping his ass, she shouts Race You as she bounds up the stairs to the shower.

"Grab my real ring, please?" She hollers down the stairs.

Unable to stop the smile that is hurting his face he hits his IG before following her upstairs.

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

"110xs I've asked her and she keeps saying Yes. I'm lucky AF and she's crazy insane. Imma 🔐 that sweet ass down quick. Bet. Saturday at #EstFest One of the most IMPORTANT days of my life. BE THERE. CUZ SHITS GONNA BE 🔥🔥🔥 #badthings WILL happen bc I LOVE A FUCKING LUNATIC 😈❤🐈 💯"

××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

Luna's upstairs waiting for him. Naked. Joint in mouth. Lines cut out. Drink in hand. Hot shower running for them.

Tossing her arms around him, he lifts her up. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she holds the joint as he hits it and carries her into the bathroom.

The way they easily move with each other makes their synchronicity enviable. Puffing on the joint, Luna drops it in an ashtray on the sink before he takes both of them into the shower.

Slowly and softly fucking each other. For a moment, before their hunger and animal instincts take over.

"Bend me over..." Luna huskily begs in Colson's ear.

Happily indulging her, he pulls her hair and fucks her the way they both like. Gripping her hips as he pushes himself deep inside of her. Leaving Luna to shake in pleasure as she feels his cum fill her insides.

--------------------------------------------------

Out of the shower they blow the lines waiting for them. Lighting a joint as they get dressed. Kissing and playfully teasing each other as they burn along the way.

"Where's my other ring?" Luna asks.

"Right there..." Colson points to the dresser.

Luna grabs it, slipping it onto her right hand. Wiggling her fingers she admires both.

"You're gonna wear that one too?" He asks.

"Uhmmmm. Fuck yeeeaahhh." Luna looks at him weirdly. "It's my original."

Thinking she would toss it, Colson adores her logic. Along with her Love of Them

Throwing on black skinnies and a cutoff hoodie, Luna laughs as Colson pulls his black Chucks on too.

"Come're Kitty....." He swings her around on the bed to tie her shoe.

"I fucking LOVE yooou." She states as she watches him with adoration.

"Love-LOVE YOU." He grins, kissing her newly blinging finger as he pulls her up.

Colson orders an uber as Luna collects their things. Pulling off the black hoodie he had put on, Colson looks for the particular one he wants. They're both headed out. On separate flights. Him to Boise to meet up The Boys for another show. Her to Mexico City for a performance with Ashley.

Getting the alert that their ride is there, Luna grabs Colson. Gripping him tightly around his waist as she burrows into his naked chest. Inhaling his sweet smell. It's a mix of weed, his cologne Jean Paul and Luna.

"I love you." She states as she looks up into his brilliant blue eyes.

"Forever?" He asks.

"Beyond." She answers as she pulls him down for a kiss before letting him go.

Finding the grey hoodie he wants, Colson grabs Luna's ass cheek. Also kissing her face cheek as he asks If She's Ready.

With her nod, he shouts "We Out!!!"

Her laughter tickles his soul as they head back on The Road. Holding hands along the way

--------------------------------------------------

Luna flies out at 10P. Colson 11P. Walking her to her gate, they hold each other for as long as they can.

Calling for boarding, Colson grabs Luna. Lifting her high for her to wrap her entire being around him. The way they both like.

"Two days." They reassure each other with laughter at their jinx.

Pulling back, Luna tells him She Loves Him before kissing him solidly.

"I love you. Go kill Mexico City and come back to me." He tells her, causing a rise of small tears in her eyes. "Heeey... Two days, Bunny Love." He tries to reassure her again.

"I know...." She lightly whimpers. "I just hate to leave you...." She sighs as a solid tear drops.

It breaks Colson's heart as he wipes it off her cheek with his thumb. He hates when they're apart.

"Then... Seven days. Me and you. Married. With nothing else.." He grins as he reminds her of their short and long term goals.

Squeezing him tighter with her thighs and arms, Luna kisses him with everything inside of her. Pulling back, she looks him in the eyes before softly pecking his lips.

"Seven days." She asserts with a woeful sigh.

"Go." He tells her with a kiss on the lips and solid slap on the ass.

Luna can't help but break out into a grin over and for him. Kissing him quickly, she grabs her carry on before heading down the terminal.

"Seven DAYS!!!" She shouts as she looks over her shoulder. "I FUCKING LOVE YOU!!!" Her voice lingers in his ear as she disappears.

Heart throbbing for Luna immediately, Colson halls ass through Cleveland's airport. Barely making his own 7hr flight. Missing it would've been worth it to him just to see her off.

-------------------------------------------------

Settled, Luna touches her new ring. It's so big and different from her original. Looking at both, her eyes well up at Colson's words. Looking down at the new one, she sees him wrapped all around her. Missing him instantly.

"Seven days......" She sighs to herself. Already missing her puzzle piece. Popping two bars to sleep through her own 7hr flight.

--------------------------------------------------

To be continued.....

24 notes · View notes

xmxisxforxmaybe · 5 years

Text

Remnants, Epilogue

I couldn’t wait, so here they are! The first epilogue is with children, the second is without--I know some people love the fluffy kid life, but some people don’t want that. Either way, life with Ahkmenrah is sure to be sweet : )

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X

Tag List: @kitkatcronch @kpopperotp12 @seafrost-fangirl @sassystrawberryk @perfect-rami @txmel @limabein @rami-malek-trash @underworldsheiress and @sherlollydramoine

Warnings: Light, fluffy smut and saccharine sweetness in Epilogue 1; full-out smutty smut in Epilogue 2

Epilogue 1 (with children)

Ahk: Part-time docent and stay-at-home dad

You: Professor of Anthropology at NYU

Home: Brooklyn, NY

It was Christmas Eve and a heavy snow had been falling throughout the afternoon. Ahkmenrah still had not tired of watching the white flakes, well, in today’s case it was more like the white streaks, fall from the sky.

“Look, Y/N! The street is gone, completely white!” Ahkmenrah nearly spilled his hot chocolate as he tapped on the foggy windowpane, nearly pressing his nose against it to get a better look.

You looked up from your book and smiled at his enthusiasm. He certainly made a pretty picture framed in the large, bay window of your home, the Christmas tree’s lights casting flickering shadows over his body, along with the orange-warm cast of light thrown from the fireplace.

In fact, the lights seemed to highlight just about everything you loved about your husband’s body, so you slid your bookmark into place and laid your book on the coffee table.

“Hey, Ahk,” you said in a voice that he knew quite well by now.

When he turned to look at you in answer, he was wearing a grin that you knew quite well by now.

“Yes, my queen?”

“I have a really fine view of the snow from right here. I think you should come take a look,” you suggested.

Ahkmenrah amplified his wicked grin by adding a quirk of his eyebrow.

You patted the seat beside you.

Ahk moved away from the window and with what could only be described as sauntering, made his way to the sofa.

You laughed at his exaggerated movements before throwing your hands over your mouth to stifle your giggles.

Ahkmenrah listened with a look of slight horror on his face before whispering, “I don’t think they heard us.”

“They were impossible tonight,” you groaned in a controlled whisper.

Ahkmenrah grinned as he sat his mug on the end table and took a seat next to you.

“I think they love getting presents just as much as their mother does.”

“Speaking of gifts,” you said with an arched brow as you straddled your husband’s lap.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you this week, but I am more than okay with it,” Ahkmenrah said as you kissed him and swiped your tongue across his full, bottom lip.

“You just look so good, Ahk,” you said, your lips and tongue teasing him now. “And smell so good, too,” you added as you kissed along his jaw line and started sucking on one of his sweet spots on his neck behind his ear.

Ahkmenrah grasped your ass, massaging it through your leggings before snaking his hands under your sweatshirt, moving to rub your lower back.

You worked his neck with the expertise that comes with being with someone for years, with knowing all of their proclivities. You continued kissing his neck slowly, licking and sucking your way from one side to the other. By the time you were closing your lips over his earlobe, he had unhooked your bra and was working both of your nipples to peaks with his fingers.

You released his earlobe and sat back to pull off your sweatshirt and get rid of your bra. You never got tired of the way Ahk’s eyes drank you in, his hands cupping your breasts and lightly massaging them, his bottom lip tucked in by his teeth as he looked from your chest to your face.

“I want you. So much, Y/N,” he said.

You smiled seductively, asking, “How do you want me, my king?”

“Just like this. I want to watch you fuck my cock, right here on our sofa while the snow covers the streets.”

You moaned, low and guttural, and ground your center into his bulge. Ahkmenrah’s eyes closed and he grasped your hips, pushing his own up just a little to give you even more pressure.

And then you both heard it. The thump of little feet hopping out of bed and the tell-tale slapping of running on the hardwood floor in the upstairs hallway.

Your exclamation of “Fuck!” was echoed by Ahkmenrah’s of “Shit!” as you scrambled to adjust yourselves. You just ducked back into your sweatshirt as your twins come tearing into the living room.

“SANTA!” they both yelled simultaneously.

“Try again, kiddos,” you said scooping each of them up, knowing Ahk was in no state to stand at the moment. He had his head flopped back on the couch and his palms pressed into his eyes.

“Look around and tell me what you see?”

“DADDY!” they, again, yelled simultaneously.

“Does daddy look like Santa?”

“No,” your little girl said as she giggled and bopped at your chin. “No face fur!”

“That’s right you said,” smiling. “Daddy does not have face fur. And speaking of daddy, wave goodnight. You know that if you don’t stay in bed until morning, Santa’s magic won’t work.”

The twins waved and said, “Night-night, daddy” as you carried them back up the stairs. Ahk waved from the couch and said, “Listen to your mommy and go to sleep, little ones.”

That would be a Christmas miracle.

After a solid twenty minutes of kisses, hugs, assurances that Santa was on his way, and tuck-ins and retuck-ins, you were backing slowly toward the door. Once you reached the door, Ahkmenrah slid his arm around your waist and you rested your head on his shoulder. Your twins were sleeping, back to back, their dark curls mingled together.

No matter how many times you put them in their separate beds, they always ended up together, so you didn’t fight it tonight. You honestly did not know how Ahkmenrah did it day after day.

When you told him you were pregnant, he insisted he wanted to stay home with them. He didn’t want to miss a moment of their childhood and considering the two of you had waited awhile before having children, he was ready to tackle the role of being a father to the best of his ability. He stayed on as a docent at the museum, usually working on weekends and over the summer once the university let out.

You and Ahk had gotten married within a month of his becoming mortal and then spent time travelling while you worked on publishing as much research as you could. When NYU offered a position, you happily took it, feeling like things had come full circle.

Ahkmenrah was the kind of father you knew he would be—he doted on your children but also made sure they were kind, well-mannered little humans. His regality was a central part of him, and although he wouldn’t be leading a nation, he would make sure his children would become the best versions of themselves.

Ahk took your hand as you shut the door, leaving it open just a crack. He led you down the hall to your own bedroom, and as soon as you shut the door, his lips were on yours, his arms wrapped around your waist, his hands back on your ass to squeeze you against him.

You moaned, breaking the kiss and starting to giggle.

“You don’t miss a beat, do you, love?” you asked through your smile.

Ahk returned your smile, his eyes filled with warmth.

“I love them so much, Y/N. It feels as if my heart cannot get anymore full. But then I look at you and realize that you’re still mine . . . mine to talk to, to listen to, to take care of, to watch, to touch . . .” he finished as he reached up to cup your face and to trace his thumb over your lower lip.

As much as you knew Ahkmenrah loved you and your children, you couldn’t help what came out of your mouth next. “I still sometimes wonder if you made the right decision.”

“Of course I did,” Ahkmenrah said, a seriousness settling over his face as he stepped back to really look in your eyes. “What on earth makes you think that I could be unhappy with my decision?”

“You gave up immortality. Your parents. Your tablet. Your freedom.”

Ahkmenrah moved his other hand to your face to cradle it between his strong, soft hands. His answer was a whisper while his eyes burned into yours with his intent.

“I have—everything, Y/N. Everything. Besides, children are not young forever. Can you imagine how much fun we will have when they are grown, and we get to rediscover ourselves again? Yet another thing I will get to experience with you. Please, do not ever think I have regrets.”

Tears filled your eyes and your lips began to subtly tremble as you said, “How would you feel about having everything + 1, at least I certainly hope it’s only one this time.”

Ahkmenrah’s mouth fell open and his eyes filled with tears. “Are you serious? The gods have blessed us with another child?”

“Sure. The gods . . . or because you still can’t keep your hands to yourself,” you said, teasing your husband.

“I am sorry, my love, but—who just seduced me, like one half hour ago?”

You laughed, and you swiped at the tiny tears that had pooled at the corner of your eyes. “Like it was that hard.”

“Actually . . . ” Ahk said pulling your hand to the front of his joggers.

You laughed again and when Ahkmenrah joined in you noticed the tiny lines that had formed and stayed at the edges as they crinkled with his laughter. Your husband was aging, and he was even more beautiful than on the day you first met.

Ahk grew serious again and whispered, first against your lips, and then, after he dropped to his knees, against your abdomen, “Thank you. Thank you.”

You ran your hand through his dark, curly hair, your fingers scraping along his scalp and savoring the feel of the thick strands between your fingers.

“I love you,” you said, causing him to look up at you, his eyes dark, but still luminous in the dim light of the bedroom.

“Care to show me how much?” he asked with an impish grin.

You smiled and tugged on his shirt to pull him up and into a searing kiss.

* * * * *

After you had made love with the sound of the snow lightly tapping its icy fingers against your window pane, your mind drifted back to the night you had first met Ahk; as he lay with his head on your chest, his body as close to you as he could get, you traced over the freckles that spread across his shoulders. You had never seen such sadness on such a beautiful face before, and you knew that you would remember the first time you had looked into his intense eyes. You sometimes wonder if you had really fallen in love with him on the spot—seeing him as a relic, be damned. From that moment on, he seemed to possess you, every decision you made after that night was in consideration of him.

You decided there were worse things in the world to believe in than love at first sight, or perhaps your memory of meeting him was corrupted by the intensity of your feeling now. Either way, you loved the man who gave up everything and became your husband.

And then you were overwhelmed with an intense feeling of happiness as you realized that this was what you had never dared to hope for with your once-king. In that moment, you realized it was finally, finally okay to allow yourself to believe this was real. Your life with Ahkmenrah was real.

You blamed the hormones because crying was not something you were often prone to, but what you thought were silent sniffles immediately woke your husband.

His sleepy eyes, large and full of concern, were suddenly in front of your face, his hand grasping your cheek and wiping at the salty trail.

“My love, what is it? Please tell me what is wrong?” he said, a desperation in his voice.

“I’m just so fucking happy,” you said, a choked laugh escaping as you sniffed.

Ahkmenrah bent his head in exasperation.

“You scared me!” Ahk said, sighing, but smiling now.

“I just realized that everything we have right now is exactly what I never let myself believe I could have. It was just a little overwhelming in that moment. It’s so damn cliché, too! Girl gets what she wants. Cries tears of joy.”

Ahkmenrah shifted so he could pull you to him, your positions now reversed as you laid on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. You held on to him and he ran his fingers up and down your back.

Ahkmenrah asked, “Do you remember when we talked about the Cult of Hathor? I said I had a temple built for the five days of celebration?”

“Yes.”

“Well, what if we honor that tradition? It can become something we do every Christmas—we each list the five things for which we are the most grateful. Nothing elaborate. Just us, remembering our gratitude.”

You sat up and kissed Ahkmenrah, deeply, fighting back more tears. You kissed him until you chased away those tears, then you looked at him, your eyes locked on to his.

“This is why I love you so much. You remind me how to live my best life every single day, Ahk.”

“Did I or did I not make that promise to you on the roof of the British museum as I missed my first sunrise in 4,000 years?”

“You certainly did! I wonder why you did miss that sunrise?” you said in a teasing voice.

“Because all I wanted to do was look at you.”

“Do you remember what else you said to me?”

Ahkmenrah furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head.

“Kiss me until I cannot breathe.”

Then there it was: that million-dollar smile that still made your heart feel full to bursting.

“Well, will you?” Ahk said through that smile.

“Of course,” you said as you moved to capture his lips.

Your husband’s arms tightened around you, and as you kissed each other, you poured your mutual gratitude for one another into that kiss, both of you later drifting off to sleep as the snow continued to fall feeling so secure and so well-loved.

Epilogue 2 (without children)

Ahk: Dr. Ahkmenrah Fharrow, Archeologist

You: Dr. Y/F/N Y/L/N, Anthropologist

Current Dig Location: Egypt

Home: Cambridge, UK

The sand of the dessert swirled around your tanned legs. It didn’t seem to matter how much sunscreen you wore, a life in and out of the dessert definitely darkened one’s skin.

You smiled as you walked up to the dig, and saw that your husband, dressed in a loose white shirt and khaki shorts, his boots scuffed and worn, was lecturing a group of new archeologists.

He looked so handsome, especially with the salty-grey hair that had begun to encroach on his temples.

A student asked a question, and Ahk grinned before saying, “That’s a question best answered by the most beautiful anthropologist in the world.”

Despite shaking your head and rolling your eyes, a smile snuck its way across your lips as you joined your husband down in the dig site.

“Huh. Guess I need to add that to my author bio, Dr. Fharrow.” you answered, listening as the students giggled in the background. “So, what was it that you were inquiring?

You spent a few minutes fielding questions before Ahkmenrah closed the session.

“Alright, off you go. It’s time to learn for yourselves, but remember, your tools are your friends. I don’t want to see anyone hacking away at another 6,000-year-old artifact thinking it’s ‘just a rock,’ Jamison.”

The students all laughed, giving Jamison a good ribbing as they scattered and began chattering excitedly as they split up to find an area to excavate.

“Hello, my queen,” Ahkmenrah said, kissing you.

“I missed you, too,” you said, moving closer to him and tweaking his chin. “I especially missed this face.”

Ahkmenrah grinned and kissed you again.

“Does this mean you secured our grant?”

“You are the world’s leading authority on ancient Egyptian artifacts, Dr. Fharrow. I didn’t have to work that hard at convincing them to give us money.”

“It probably wasn’t considering you are the world’s leading Egyptian cultural anthropologist, Dr. Y/L/N.”

“All thanks to you, my king,” you said smiling at your husband.

“No—I had nothing to do with creating your talented and clever mind, my love. And don’t forget, I would have never made it through school without you because I still can’t write worth a damn in English.”

You laughed and said, “We do make an excellent team.”

You stepped to the side, Ahk’s arm still around your waist, and surveyed the dig. It had taken you and Ahk such a long time to wade through the 100s of global applicants who applied to join you on a dig to finally unearth the Temple of Teti.

“Are you tired of sand and dirt yet?” you asked.

“What? You don’t want to share a tent with me anymore?”

“Oh no, trust me. If I could erect one in our house to keep up permanently, I would. There’s something about the dessert that brings out a rather . . . lascivious nature in you.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just you, love.”

“Mmm,” you replied, as Ahkmenrah nuzzled your neck, not caring a bit if you tasted like sweat.

“What do you say we—”

“Dr. Fharrow! I think I found something!” a student called excitedly, waving.

Ahkmenrah huffed, “Probably another conspicuously shaped rock.”

You giggled and gave your husband a light smack on the ass as he headed toward the student.

It had been almost 20 years since the night you entered Ahkmenrah’s exhibit and ended up falling in love with a 4,000-year-old pharaoh.

Sometimes, when you were feeling insecure, and would ask him if he had any regrets, he gave you a look that practically radiated love and said he had never dreamed of anything nearly as great as the life the two of you built, together, each of you free to make choices, the two of you always working as a team, the end goal always, always to be happy.

You both spent a long time building your careers and reputations; you worked hard to help Ahk get through school, but he had such an enthusiasm for it, it made you ridiculously proud to know you helped him chase a dream that he chose for himself. You insisted that he could choose to do anything, but he wanted to honor his culture, his people, and most importantly, his parents. He realized that a piece of paper could give him the authority to tell their story, and in turn, his own story.

Together, you were going to leave a legacy that would honor his culture.

* * * * *

Every time you and Ahk returned home from a dig, you had a small party with your closest friends to catch up on each other’s lives. The two of you owned a nice country home not too far from Cambridge, where, when the both of you decided that you’d had enough field work, you’d enter into the classroom. Both you and Ahkmenrah kept in close contact with the university that Ahk considered his alma mater two times over.

Ahkmenrah slid the lock on the door after the last few friends left. You were gathering wine glasses and tumblers and then loading them in the dishwasher. It had been a great evening full of laughter and rich conversation, and it just happened to be a nice, clear night so you all could enjoy some time on the patio that Ahk had built himself.

You loved to dress up for these parties as a contrast to your normal desert get-ups, so you had chosen to wear a black, silk jumpsuit, cut just right to accentuate your curves. You caught Ahkmenrah watching you all night, and now, you felt him before you saw him, pulling you back into his hips, his hands sliding around your waist, his breath sweet from the wine and warm on your neck as he hissed, “You dared to tease your king all night? Look at you,” he breathed, sliding his hands up to ghost his fingertips over the top of your breasts.

You swallowed, audibly, as your eyes closed of their own accord. You loved playing this game with him; wearing something pretty, sexy. Giving him “the look,” sitting too close, light touches; it was reminiscent of your stolen night together in the city and it was as if neither of you had ever forgotten those moments that led up to your first night together, as if they had become part of the prequel to all of your acts of intimacy.

Your skin prickled with goosebumps as Ahk continued his ministrations, sometimes lightly touching, sometimes squeezing, his lips now attached to your neck near your pulse after he had pulled your hair to the side. He sucked and swirled his tongue until you were practically mewling.

You pulled out of his grasp and pushed him back into the kitchen island, kissing him deeply, passionately. Ahkmenrah’s hand buried itself in your hair, while the other reached up to grasp the side of your face as he slid his fingers into your hair on that side, too.

He pulled back and looked at you, his eyes intense, but amused.

“Do you want me, my queen?”

“I’ll want you, even after my bones have turned to dust,” you whispered, your lips ghosting over his.

“I love you so much, Y/N.”

“Show me.”

Ahk reversed your positions and pressed you into the kitchen island. He removed the straps of your jumpsuit from your shoulders, letting it slide from your arms and catch at your waist. You had not worn a bra, relying only on what had been sewn into the jumpsuit and Ahkmenrah could not ignore how quickly your breasts were exposed to him.

He palmed them, massaging them both while you closed your eyes and let your head fall back. You leaned back on the counter, proffering your chest to your husband.

Ahkmenrah worked your nipples, first with his fingers, slightly calloused now from his work at the dig. He traced featherlight circles around your nipples, causing goosebumps to appear all over your breasts and arms. As your nipples hardened, he bent to catch one in his mouth, sucking gently and then teasing with tiny flicks of his tongue. He kissed across your chest, open-mouthed, sloppy kisses, and repeated the teasing to your other nipple. You gripped his hands and slid them over to the sides of both of your breasts and squeezed them around his face, loving the way his stubble scratched at your skin.

Ahkmenrah groaned before stepping back and yanking the rest of your jumpsuit down. He grinned when he saw your tiny black underwear.

“Those hardly qualify as a garment,” he said as he picked you up under the thighs and set you on the counter top.

“Oh, I think they are serving their purpose,” you said as you took in the way his eyes darkened when he saw them.

Ahkmenrah narrowed his eyes before he reached up and pulled up on them, tightening them so your outer lips were spilling over the edges. He licked along them, teasing you unmercifully, sliding his tongue over your clit, but it was just covered by enough fabric that you couldn’t really feel anything.

“Please,” you groaned. “Just take the damn thing off.”

Ahkmenrah laughed, his lips still on your clit over the underwear, teasing. He loved when you begged.

Ahk loosened his hold on your underwear and began to lower them, lightly kissing places around your hips as he gained access. You were propped up on your hands, watching him tease you and trying not to just squash his arrogant head between your thighs.

You gave his curly hair a good tug, which earned you another arrogant smirk, before he fully removed your underwear.

“Like usual, you can dish it out but you cannot take it,” Ahkmenrah said between kisses to your inner thighs.

“Yes—I admit it. I’m a bully. A bully who wants to come, preferably on your smartass face,” you said while spreading your legs, forcing him to either stop or move closer to your core.

Ahkmenrah chuckled again before taking pity on you. He spread your outer lips and hummed in appreciation at how wet you were. He leaned back in and flicked his tongue across your clit. Your thighs quivered a bit in response and Ahk set a steady pace of licking and sucking until you were groaning and panting a chorus of yeses that ended with a guttural groan of Ahkmenrah’s name.

“So fucking beautiful when you come, my love,” Ahk said as he pulled off his shirt and unbuckled his belt.

He didn’t even bother taking off his pants, only unzipping enough to reach in and pull his hard cock out. Because of the height of the island, he had to climb up to actually fuck you. Just as he was about to slide into you, he banged his head off one of the low lights over the countertop.

You started laughing as he rubbed at his head.

“I forgot to warn you about that considering it was my head that got bonked the last time we did this—oh! Oh, fuck, Ahk!”

He had slid into you, ending your recollection of the last time the two of you got carried away in the kitchen. His cock felt like it was made for you when he was buried inside your heat to his base. It felt so goddamn good each and every time he entered you.

Ahkmenrah’s teasing of you had actually gotten the best of him and he held nothing back as he fucked you, steady and hard. You gripped the edge of the counter that was above you and bucked your hips to meet his thrusts, clenching your walls around him and moaning, lost in the heat of your passion.

It didn’t take long before Ahkmenrah grunted and pulled out, jerking himself off over your abdomen. His eyes were on yours, waiting for them to open again.

You smiled, knowing he was watching you. You slowly opened your eyes and met his.

“I love seeing you like this,” he mumbled as he reached out to trace a finger through his come, leaning down to bring it to your lips.

You wrapped your lips around his finger and sucked, swallowing what he had proffered.

“Careful, old man. Don’t start something you can’t finish,” you said as you patted his cheek and wiggled your naked self off of the island and reached for a paper towel.

“I think you are forgetting something. You’re the old one.”

You stopped dead in the midst of wiping his come off of your stomach and slowly gave him a look to rival that of Medusa’s famous gaze.

Ahk laughed, deeply and happily, then dropped off the counter as he zipped up his pants. He was still laughing as he moved in to give you a kiss, but he was met instead with the paper towel and caught only the cold remnants of his come, not your warm lips.

“You. Are. Dead,” he said, his brows raised, his face locked in an expression of surprise.

You laughed, loudly, and took off for the bedroom, holding onto your breasts as you jogged down the hall and then up the stairs, squealing as you heard his thundering footfalls behind you.

You were both laughing and panting as he tackled you onto your queen-sized, fluffy, white bedding. He had your wrists pinned above your head as you attempted to work your legs free to try to gain the upper position.

The sound of rain suddenly slamming against your large bedroom window made you both stop and look out at the weather.

Deja vu overwhelmed both of you as you returned your eyes to one another’s. The rain slapped against the window as Ahk quickly removed the rest of his clothes. This time, you made love, and it was an echo of that moment so many years ago when you were brought together by a rainstorm just like this one, but a thousand miles away in a city that never sleeps.

Your lovemaking was so much sweeter this time with both of you knowing one another’s bodies so well. But what truly made it sweeter was that you knew when you fell asleep, Ahk would stay right there, his breathing, even and deep, and he would be there, bathed in the golden light of the morning.

It was clear Ahkmenrah’s thoughts were twisted with yours as he looked into your eyes when you came; he watched the way your lips moved as you said his name, both of you coming in an intense, trembling mess against the backdrop of the rain.

You were the best choice Ahkmenrah had ever made, and even though the remnants of his past felt further and further from him as time passed, he didn’t mind. Because every lost remnant was replaced by a moment like this with you.

#Ahkmenrah #ahk #ahkmenrah fanfiction #ahkmenrah imagine #natm ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah x reader #female reader #rami malek #rami malek character #NATM #ahk x reader

190 notes · View notes