#anyway that shining lights mission fucked me UP man. what the hell.
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i think about those slugs a lot. blood alt under the cut
#ibis art#metal gear#metal gear solid v#venom snake#THERE we go finished something. finally#this imagery hit me while i was out getting groceries and i was trying really hard to fix it in my head so i didnt forget when i got home#i like the blood alt but not quite enough to go in the main post. somehow it feels easy. gotta step up my game.#anyway that shining lights mission fucked me UP man. what the hell.
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JAHA X READER
The dark clouds of the sky but only a memorable day of potentially dangerous rejection and love can occur into the streets of China, jaha didn't know what to do since he had always been the smartest in every situation and in every battle.
of when his clothes are bathed in the blood of powerful fighters and soldiers along his path to his goal, and to a world of bliss for rules to not be followed by such a class of martial artists,
Throwing their yuan away in such a cocky mentality, the master of the black rabbit clan knew how to take care of threats like that, even if it means having shards of a enemy's sword getting scattered in the ground of class, even if it means protecting ilyang, even if it means protecting Y/N from the dangers of this world, the dangers of China and therefore their path to power and vengeance leading to destruction and wars,even if it means the essence of insanity scraped his soul.
yuan rattled on his hand as he surveyed the remaining gifts to buy for Y/N. It was pure ruby earrings. It was a beautiful chinese dress, it was perfumes of the finest caliber of scents. there are so many options.
A flashback banged into his head. He suddenly remembered what you like, and what you like mattered to him even if he's a cold-blooded killer with an aura called the definition of danger.
"I actually like blue earrings, I like the way they shine, and they look like the ocean to me? Don't you agree?"
he came inside the shop where the earrings were stored at, there were many shades of color, blue, green, white, black, gray, orange. the blue one on the side caught his blood red eyes.
the beautiful earrings looking into his eyes were called.
The forbidden city of the ocean, it all spelled out in Chinese, and a rare Chinese ink to make it stand out more. he picked them up in slight awe. thinking: Would they look good on her? a voice interrupted his thought process. it was a man in the first desk.
with an angry look on why he dared touch a fine piece of jewelry, wearing his hands like an illuminating necklace, jaha questioned in his ordinary sass.
"What the fuck are you looking at?"
"You're touching a rich peice of jewelry? If you aren't going to pay for that, then get the hell out of my shop?"
he picked up the jewelry anyway and walked up to him. The intimidation scared the man that insulted a master terrified him to the brink. like it went through his thick skull. a large amount of yuan slammed onto the desk.
"I need to pay for this."
"First of all, you don't come up to my shop like that sir, most people treat the jewelry with respect."
It was at this point that this man was pushing him to the brim, even the vein on his forehead shown it as a sign to stop talking before death kisses him in the face into the afterlife. the man hesitated on spitting out the next words that will spill in the next second.
and if he did, then he had a 30 chance to be alive. His red eyes took his mind into a terrified panic. his words spit out orchestras of fear.
"FINE. IT'S FREE. TAKE IT. JUST DONT HURT ME.."
his sweat soak his armpits, the filling shit of his system kept pouring down out of fear of whoever this man is.
"W-who are you?"
his footsteps walked to the door, and jaha didn't want to speak to him any longer after his terrified voice almost gave him a nearing headache. He looked at the real price of the earrings.
"Hmm..50,000 yuan."
he went to a place he knew you would be at, since that's a place that stored the most memories of you inside that insane head. It was raining blossoms.
he saw you near the lake, looking beautiful as ever, with (whatever chinese outfit you like) somehow. he felt happy and a sensation of peace in his aura. like he felt like he was in heaven with you. Blossoms coated his void black hair cutely.
you turned with a bag of desserts on your arm, happy to be spending time with jaha after all the missions and drama you two have gone through.
From the demonic cult, the martial arts league, the light faction, and the dark faction.
you saw him with an existing happiness and popped a strawberry, chocolate cake that is small as a kitten in his mouth.
"COME ON♡ LETS GO TO THE QIXI FESTIVAL!"
(my comeback era for writing came back)
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Ask No Omen
“Without a sign, his sword the brave man draws, and asks no omen, but his country's cause. ”
Sam blinks and elderly Steve seems to have merged into thin air. He stares at the vacant space beside him on the bench, knuckles clenched around the edges of the heavy case. Its circular shape is familiar, and yet entirely alien to him. He stays that way for a minute, ten minutes, maybe. Bucky, probably still gazing forlornly at the platform, or the bench, doesn’t approach. Banner mutters under his breath about five minutes, just five and pushes every button on the keypad with furious fingers.
Silence falls amongst the group, save for the quiet sound of Bucky trying and failing to privately cry. He said he was gonna miss him. Sam thinks, and looks away from the dejected face of the man who is slowly but surely becoming his friend. His tamped down sobs sound loudly in the empty space, the only other background noise the rustling leaves in the wind. Then, all at once, the portal whirs to life and a figure forms from millions of sparkling atoms in a nanosecond. Steve gapes at them all: Bruce’s wide, open-mouth (also green inside), the shock shining in Sam’s expression, the way Natasha seems to shrink a little behind him. Bucky looks as though he’s been slapped across the face, and his cheeks glisten.
“Oh, hey…” Steve steps in, forcing down the urge to fling his fists around. He can't fight this, the source of those tears. He’s the cause. He’s made Bucky cry. His fingers brush them away. “I know I promised to knock the lights out of anyone who hurt you, Buck, but I already wrestled myself once and I just got back.”
Bucky chokes on a watery laugh, and claps Steve on the back a little too hard. “Fuck you, Rogers. Seriously,” His hands slide down his shoulders and curl tightly around his hips. “I can’t believe you did that!”
Steve’s pelvis seems to gravitate closer to Bucky of its own accord.
“What, you really thought I’d leave you? I told you what I was doing!” His fingers card through the hair falling just before Bucky’s eyes. “End of the line. I’d never go back on that.” He adds seriously, getting his own grip on Barnes’ waist, thumbs swiping over the outline of his hip bones.
“But… You were late.”
“Only by a few minutes. Turns out Schmidt was still alive, sort of-”
“No!”
“Yes! And no one thought to tell me that the Guardian of the Soul Stone was my fucking wartime enemy?” Steve throws his hands up, shooting a glare at the rest of them. “Good thing I know how to piss him off already, it came in handy getting Tasha back.”
“Yea- How did you…” Bruce cuts in, but he falls quiet when Natasha, finally unspooked, throws her arms around him.
“I thought… I thought you really did it. Went back to Peggy with the extra particles.” Bucky sniffs, and hugs him tighter.
“Uh- what?” Bruce lifts his chin from Natasha’s hair.
Steve shakes his head, once, firmly. “I did. Got that last dance. She showed me pictures of her wedding, her kids, her “husband,” her new flame who’s a movie star. Hell, Buck, she won an Oscar, and she knows how to make pasta from scratch! How would I have lived up to that?”
“You’re right. You burn toast, Rogers.” He says it so lovingly, though, that Sam, who’s been inching closer to the portal, feels like he should take another step back and give them some privacy. Damn.
“Captain America. War material yes, domestic husbandry material, no,” Steve agrees with a sigh. “Anyways, it was tempting. To-to stay. I mean, it was familiar, it was Peggy… But after everything that’s happened- I’m just not the guy she fell in love with anymore. She’ll always love me. The me she knew. And I’ll love her as I remember her. But she’s moved on. She wanted me to do the same. And that time, it wasn’t any more familiar because I slept through it. This is home now.”
He meets Bucky’s eyes with a shy, soft smile. “So I completed my mission. Returned every Stone to its proper place. The only thing I really changed was Nat.”
His shoulders square, and he raises himself up to his full height, imposing against some unseen challenger. “I returned the Stone, and neither the one who paid for it, nor the recipient were the one to use it. Tony-” Steve’s voice still breaks a little on the name. “He took a free ride. Clint didn’t. And I brought it back, which is more than Thanos could say. So… It was only fair.”
Steve preens a little as Bucky laughs incredulously and socks him in the arm. Leave it to America’s Most Righteous Ass to figure out how to best the very order of the universe.
“So- You didn’t tell Peggy where you… were?”
Steve’s smile twists into something more delicately sad. “No. I figured… Better to leave things as they are, rather than wishing for more I could never have. We don’t trade lives. Maybe Cap was supposed to come back when I did, to save all those people when they needed me. He could have done a lot of good in the last century, but then who’s to say what would have happened when the time to assemble came around? If we weren’t all together… Maybe nobody gets saved.”
“So OG Cap’s still frozen?” Bruce confirms.
Steve nods, growing a little uncomfortable. Sam’s temples throb with an oncoming migraine. He’s still dumbly standing there, holding the shield. He averts his eyes, shifting the case under one arm to wave a hand in front of their starry eyes.
“Wait…” Sam cuts in, with an unimpressed expression. “So, if you came back here… And you didn’t wake up yourself in the ice...”
“Uh huh…” Steve nods, sounding lost.
Sam shakes his head, running an hand across his forehead and down to rub at the back of his neck. “Then who the hell was that old guy, man?”
Steve falters, his bemused expression going from blank to rigid. His back stiffens and his hard eyes scan the area, fists balling at his sides. “What old man, Sam?”
Sam’s eyes go wide. “Oh. Uh… The old dude. He was just here. And he was, well, he was you. But like, ancient.”
“Right.” Bucky cuts in, one hand still scrubbing over his wet lashes. “I figured it was you, Stevie. I mean he looked just like you… and he had the shield.”
The disappointment in his voice is gone as quickly as it came, replaced with the bright surprise of having Steve, his Steve, in his arms again.
“He had my shield?”
“Shiny and new, doesn’t look a year over 1945.” Sam replies, unzipping the case to flash the vibranium. All three men have become pictures of tension.
“What the fuck?” Steve breathes, staring around at the empty grass before them. Back behind them, Bruce and Nat look as equally lost standing by the portal.
“Uh, guys, is everything okay?” Bruce calls out. “Because, seriously, I’m pretty intelligent and I have no idea what the hell is going on right now.”
“Let me get this straight.” Sam starts, holding up a hand, and laughs a little at the irony of the statement. “Did you give me the shield, this shield-” Sam lets it fall to the pavement with a sturdy thunk. “To become the next Captain America or not?”
Steve’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. He clutches Bucky as though to hold himself up with one hand, and his chest with the other, like he still has arrhythmia. “What? No!”
A wounded look flashes across Sam’s face, and then Steve slips into further panic.
“No, no! Sam!” He backpedals. “You’d be a great Cap. Honestly, I think that would be a great idea… I haven’t wanted to be him for a while now, being truthful. What I meant was that definitely was not me who told you that before.”
“Then who the hell was it?” Natasha chimes in, already sounding on the alert and back to her old self.
They all hear the off-kilter and slightly over dramatic giggling as it echoes around the trees, sending at first a cold shiver down their spine, and then a spike of dread through their veins. Steve just feels tired, honestly. He sags a little against his best friend, whose confounded face, void of recognition, still peers around the vacant park. The laughter gets louder, and a golden helm flashes through the branches of one of the trees.
“I always was good at impersonating you, Captain, but I think this was my best yet!”
Sam looks down with a scream; a thick white snake slithers around his arm, the empty case unzippered at his feet, kicking up dust where it fell.
“Loki…” Bruce growls, clenching his huge teeth.
The god in question flashes them a cheeky grin, vanishing in a spark of blue light before any of them can draw a weapon. Well, Bucky throws a knife with one hand, but it hits the tree behind where the trickster squatted a moment before and lodges itself into the rough wood.
“God, was he always that annoying?” Steve barks, and Natasha rolls her eyes with a shake of her head.
“Ugh. Yes. I call not having to deal with that particular loose end. I died already.” She tosses a tiny grin at Steve, a secret smile of a moment shared between them upon her return.
“I thought you’d do anything for family.” He quips back, pulling her into another hug, one arm around her, the other draped over Bucky’s shoulders.
“Yes. But I’m hungry as hell right now, and exhausted. I want a peanut butter sandwich, and Clint, in my room at the base immediately. He can tell me the story before I take a nap.”
Bruce whistles like it pains him. “Yea… We sort of lost the complex.”
“It blew up.” Sam helpfully supplies in a deadpan, waving his arms, sans snake, in the motion of a large cloud.
Natasha, to her credit, doesn’t seem very surprised.
“And Tony…”
“I know.” Natasha stops Bruce, laying a hand on his meaty forearm. “Steve told me. I’m sorry I missed the service.”
“We’re just glad to have you back.” Steve says quietly, muscling her into the waiting car. He knows this isn't the end, that it's going to kick in soon. Natasha’s alive, everyone’s alive, thanks to the Iron Man’s sacrifice. And he’s going to have a lot of explaining to do… To baffled Bruce, to Scott, to Hank Pym. But for now, his friend needs to eat. He wonders if that old place still has shawarma. They could get it in Tony’s honor.
Later, when everyone’s stomachs are sated, and Natasha’s curled under a heavy blanket on Sam’s couch after a much longer processing session by all, with tears and curses and happy shouts of elated disbelief (everyone hugs Natasha about a hundred times, including Clint, who shows up immediately, and won’t let go), Sam and Steve are out on his porch, watching the cars lazily snake down the streets in the golden glow of the setting sun. He’s got a glass of sweet tea, an old addiction he picked up from Riley, in hand. The cool frost on the glass trickles down his fingers.
“Did you mean it? About me… Taking the mantle?”
Steve eyes him for a moment in contemplative silence. “Yes. I can’t think of anyone more deserving, or capable. You did much more for me when I came back than just fight in my battles. And that’s what really proved you were right for the job.”
Sam seems a little stunned, or flattered, or both. He ducks his head with a slightly crazed chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned. Sam Wilson, Captain America. What’ll you tell the world?”
“I gotta tell ‘em anything? Maybe they’ll just think I died… I know I’m good at speeches, but I’m a little tired of my every other word being a monologue for someone else’s sake.”
Sam nods, knowing it’s not his decision to challenge. “But you’ll be around… In case-”
“In case the world needs me? I’ll be around. I’m not actually gonna die. But I was a wanted man… And the lack of a shield or a star spangled suit didn’t seem to stop me from helping others.”
“No, man. In case I need you.” Sam’s voice goes serious, vulnerable.
“To what? Kick your butt on a race course?” Steve smirks, nudging him with one shoulder. “As your mentor, you don’t need me. You’re doing a pretty good job on your own. As your friend, always. I’ll be here for a long time it looks like.”
Sam thinks back to when he lost Riley. He can’t imagine losing him twice, but Steve did, with Peggy. With Bucky too. With his actual timeline. Given the chance, he turned away from a do-over in his life, forced himself to face his problems head on. Sam’s pretty sure he’d make the same choice, but he knows it couldn’t have been easy. Maybe that’s what Steve sees in him. But before he was Cap, he was Cap’s friend. His best friend, maybe, besides Nat and Bucky. So he gives the hand beside him a quick squeeze. If Steve wants to talk about it, he knows Sam’s there. But if he doesn’t, he won’t push him. So that’s why what he says next is: “And what about the… Shield and all that?”
“Well. New Captain America. Means new shield, new suit. New incarnation. Seems best to leave it up to you to decide.” He looks Sam in the eye. “You get to define the mantle now, bud. Don’t let it define you like I did.”
Sam nods, a little bit overwhelmed with emotion. He’s already thinking about plans for a new shield. Maybe still using vibranium, but ethically sourced, not smuggled, this time. Maybe if he works it out, T’Challa and Shuri would be more than happy to provide. And wings… He thinks he might miss those if they weren’t worked into the design. Steve beams at him, happy to see him already losing himself to his thoughts.
“Happy daydreaming, Cap.” He murmurs, with one last squeeze, and the sound of the screen door sliding open again as Steve Rogers heads back inside.
reblogs are appreciated :)
#this is so old…. posting here bc why not sjdjdjsjs#fuck endgame fuck endgame so hard#jays fanfics#endgame fix it#i speak#avengers endgame#endgame#anti endgame#steeb#bucket#sammich#nat <3#bruce banner#hulk#loki#marvel#mcu#avengers#captain america#captain america fanfic#captain america au#sam!cap#sam wilson#bucky barnes#steve rogers#stevebucky#clintasha#natasha romanoff#oneshot#marvel one shot
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Relinquish
jealous!vinnie smut. a little bit of slapping, degradation, praise. i’ll warn you now this does have some CNC themes! nothing too crazy but if that makes you uncomfortable, do not read! otherwise, enjoy :)
I can’t deny, I’ve always been the type to get a thrill out of causing some heartache from time to time, especially when it comes to men. Never without good reason, though. I’m not sure why I am this way, but I am. I don’t plan on changing, either, because the feeling is too good when I know I’ve got a guy right where I want him. Perfectly wrapped around my finger, like a puppet. And I’ve never had trouble getting guys into that situation - at least, until I met Vinnie.
Vinnie acts like he could care less about me or what I’m doing half the time. It’s why our relationship didn’t work out, I simply can’t be with someone who doesn’t worship the ground I walk on. It’s conceited, I know, but it’s true and I’m willing to admit it.
I’m also willing to admit that nearly everything I’m doing lately is meant to draw out the worst in that man. I’m hellbent, on a mission to make him react to me; get angry with me, get jealous over me. Anything to prove he feels something for me because I’ll damned if he doesn’t.
After our breakup, it started with me wearing extra short shorts and crop tops around the house, especially around his friends. It seemed as though it was working the first few times I did it, but his friends haven’t been over much lately so I moved to posting things on instagram; bikini pics and other pictures that leave little to the imagination but then, to my surprise, my account got suspended and I’m too afraid to push the matter on another platform.
So, I had to find another way to provoke him and I finally turned to Tinder. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t catch me dead on that app. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but I’ve never been the type to go looking for someone. But these are special circumstances.
It didn’t take long for me to match with a guy, Oliver. He’s cute enough and nice. The athletic, rescues animals, picks up trash on the beach kind of guy. Hell, if I wasn’t so stuck up Vinnie’s ass, I might have actually really clicked with the guy.
Anyway, I got straight to work setting up a date and today was finally the day we went out. It was a fine experience, we even had a little bit of a makeout session, but I was eager to get back home the whole time so I’m relieved to finally be walking back into the house now.
I peek my head inside, looking around for any sign of life - it’s pretty late, almost 3:30am, so I’m not surprised when I don’t see anyone and the house is mostly dark. I switch my phone light on and start to make my way upstairs.
As I walk toward my own room I take special note of Vinnie’s room. The lights must be off, they’re not shining from under the door. This really pisses me off. The whole damn reason I went on this stupid date was to make him mad and the asshole is already asleep.
I sigh loudly and slam my bedroom door behind me, flipping on the light. I unzip my dress, sliding it down and undo my bra, feeling the relief of getting the tight fabric off of my body. I know it’s late, but soaking in a hot bath sounds good right now. I pick my clothes off the ground and turn around to toss them in the hamper when I see a figure laying across my bed making my heart stop for a moment.
“Jesus, Vinnie! You scared the hell out of me,” I scold him.
I bring my hands up to my chest to cover myself and look him over, gauging the expression on his face. He looks calm and he’s fully clothed minus his shirt, laying with his back against the headboard as he sits on top of the covers. An odd sight to see.
“What the hell are you doing in here? And why are you just laying in the dark?” I ask.
“You went on a date tonight?” He asks.
I try my hardest to bite back my smile, but I can’t. “Sure did. Had a lot of fun, too.”
“Did you fuck him?”
A surge of adrenaline rushes through me at his question - I’m not sure if it’s excitement or anger at his prying. Or maybe I’m just a little surprised he’d ask that so outright.
“That’s none of your concern, Vin.”
He sighs, then a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Answer my question, Y/n. Did you fuck him?”
“I’m not telling you,” I shake my head.
He stands. His posture is stiff and tall, almost intimidating and I feel myself recoil a little as he approaches me. My eyes meet the floor and within seconds, he’s towering over me.
His hands are balled into fists at his sides as he leans down to speak quietly in my ear. “I asked you a fucking question and I’d like you to answer it. If you don’t, I promise you I’ll find out one way or the other so you may as well come clean,” he pauses for a moment. “Did you fuck him?”
My breath catches in my throat. I can feel the heat radiating from his body - I never expected a reaction like this from him, I’m not sure if I love it or hate it.
With a pout on my face, I look up at him. “How? You don’t have any way of finding out,” I say.
A wide smile spreads across his face and his hand wraps itself around the back of my neck as he pushes me toward the bed. “Oh, I have ways baby,” he says.
He bends me over the bed, my cheek pressed firmly against the mattress as his free hand works its way into my thong. The feeling of him touching me for the first time in weeks instantly breaks me and I melt into the bed, burying my face into the fabric to muffle my moan.
“You’re soaking wet,” he says, then slides his finger inside of me. “You’re still so tight, though. You never felt so small when I was done with you so he’s either got a small dick or you didn’t fuck him,” he chuckles.
“Stop Vinnie,” I say softly, still in outer space from his hands on me. I start to reach around to push his hand away but a sharp smack to my ass catches me off guard and makes me stay still.
“You gonna make me hunt his sorry ass down and ask him?” He says.
That’s enough to make me come back to reality. “What?”
“You heard me,” he reaches forward, wrapping his hand around my throat and pulling me against him, my back against his chest. “Answer my god damn question, Y/n, I won’t ask you again. Did you fuck him?” His voice gets harsher at the end of the sentence.
“No!” I push against him.
“No, what?” He pushes back, harder.
“No, I didn’t fuck him you asshole.”
He chuckles. “Thank god, baby. I don’t know what I would have done if you had… it wouldn’t have been good.”
His words instantly trigger something in me, nanking me angry. Frustrated. Annoyed, even. As much as I’m thrilled I’ve obviously gotten to him, I can’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he won something here.
I push back against him again, this time he lets me move. “I should’ve, though,” I say, walking to the head of my bed and climbing in, getting comfortable under the covers.
“Should’ve what?” He says. He looks confused.
“I should’ve fucked him. He was a good kisser,” I smile wide. “He had soft lips and was the perfect combination of rough and gentle as he grabbed me and pulled me toward him, sliding his tongue in with mine. God, it took my breath away.”
His eyes narrow and his demeanor turns from spiteful to cold.
“He was cute, too, did you see him? Green eyes… you know I’m a sucker for green eyes. Perfect eyebrows. Good guy, too. Volunteers places, helps out the community. Spoiled me all night. I bet he’s a gentle lover, the type to really take his time with his girl. I definitely plan on seeing him again,” I giggle. “I can’t wait.”
“Shut up,” he says sternly but quietly.
“What? You jealous? Don’t like the idea of his hands on my body, his mouth on me. Licking me and sucking my clit, my tits, my neck… Cock deep inside me, sending me to magical highs while I moan his name, grinding against him, lost in the feeling like it’s just me and him in the whole world -“
“Shut the fuck up,” he storms over to me. I seal my lips, not daring to speak another word as I try to figure out just how far he’d go with his anger. I trust him not to hurt me or anything awful like that, but I’ve never seen this side of him before.
He reaches down, yanking the covers off of me and pulling me to the side of the bed.
“Vinnie, stop!” I say.
He doesn’t listen as he rips my thongs off my body. I might be protesting on the outside but if I’m honest, I’m secretly loving this. This is exactly what I wanted - for him to take control, show me some intense emotions, and show me how crazy I drive him.
One of his hands takes hold of my wrists, holding them together as his free one slides his pants down along with his boxers. I try to get out his grip, ready to continue my objections but the look on his face catches my attention.
I can’t tell if it’s lust or anger or heartbreak in his eyes, but the look he’s giving me knocks the wind out of me and I can’t do anything except lay here for him.
His cock is getting harder by the second as he takes it into his free hand, running it along my soaked slit. “Tell me if you don’t want this,” his grip on my wrists gets a little tighter. “You better tell me now.”
I bite my lip, staying silent. I can’t lie to him and tell him I don’t.
“Okay,” he says, sliding himself inside of me.
It’s been weeks since I’ve had anything more than my skinny little vibrator in me so his cock sends a shockwave through me and evokes a loud groan from my throat.
“Shhh,” he hushes me harshly. “You’re gonna wake the house up.”
“Vinnie,” I whine. Waking the house up is the last thing I care about right now. He finally releases my wrists, grabbing my thighs to pull me closer to the edge of the bed. He pushes my legs back until my knees are nearly against my stomach.
“You really wanted to fuck him?” He asks me, pressing his lips against my neck.
I stay silent, focused less on his words and more on the pressure building rapidly between my legs.
He pulls away and lays a sharp slap to my cheek. “Huh? You really wanted to fuck him?” He repeats a little louder.
“Yeah,” I say. I don’t know why I said that, I’m in enough trouble as it is.
“You think he could fuck you like me?” His voice gets louder. He looks down and watches as he slides in and out of me. “Look at you, you pathetic girl. Literally a dripping mess for me, giving yourself to me even when you’re trying to convince me you don’t want me. You might be able to lie but that pretty little pussy is always gonna tell me the truth. Wet, clenching, and swollen around my cock.”
Oh my god.
I can’t keep up this act anymore, and I melt again, closing my eyes and letting him take complete control over me. Only cries mixed with little moans leave my throat as I relinquish myself to the pleasure.
“I hate to break it to you, baby, but you’re never gonna get rid of me,” he picks up his pace, I swear he’s about to break me in half. “You’re mine,” his hand grips my chin. “You got it?”
I nod yes.
“Open your eyes,” he demands. “Look at me and tell me you’re mine.” I look up at him, his eyes look like they’re glistening.
“I - I,” I try to speak but the waves of ecstasy washing over me are scrambling my brain and I can barely understand him, let alone form a coherent sentence of my own.
“You’re such a brat and you drive me fucking insane, you know that?” He says. “But you’re mine. My girl. No one else’s,” his thumb meets my clit and rubs it just enough to make me weep.
“You’ll never, ever belong to anyone else. I worked too hard to get you, and I tried so hard to keep you,” he admits, his tone turning softer. “I’ve done my best to control myself when it comes to you, didn’t wanna scare you off. But I heard you talking to Mia, saying you wanted me to… what? Act crazier for you? I’ll show you fucking crazy if you want it baby.”
“Fuck,” I whine. His words are exactly what I needed to hear to push me over the edge. My orgasm consumes me almost instantly, making my eyes roll back. Pure fucking bliss. I’m his.
“Good girl,” he chuckles through his own heavy breathing. “Cumming for me like my good little girl.”
Another groan escapes my throat and I open my eyes to look at him as I realize he doesn’t plan on stopping yet. “Vinnie… sensitive,” I mumble.
“Yeah, what about it? I should make you cum so many times you cry,” he says. His voice is full of spite.
“Please let me just…” my sentence trails as I moan.
“Be quiet.”
I nod, keeping my mouth closed.
He laughs with a hint of sarcasm. “Like it or not, I’ll be fucking you until the sun comes up. Gonna ruin you for anyone else, make you remember who you belong to and remind you why you’ll never belong to anyone else.”
#vinnie hacker#vinnie#vincent hacker#vinniehacker#vincenthacker#vinnie fanfic#vinniehackerfanfic#vhackerr#vinnie x reader#vinniehackerimagines#vinniehackersmut#jealous!vinnie#vinnie hacker x reader
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to hell and back (read on ao3 here)
“Tell me the story,” Dean says quietly. It’s only under cover of darkness, with his head pillowed on Cas’s chest and their legs tangled together, safe and warm in their bed, that he’ll ever ask for this. Cas understands—it’s a story best told somewhere the demons of their past can’t reach them.
“We descended within minutes of you being taken,” Cas begins. He could tell this story by rote, if only because Dean has asked to hear it so often. But Dean always hangs onto his every word in these moments, so Cas chooses each of them carefully. “We all knew the fight would be tough, and it was expected that many of us wouldn’t return. I doubted I would survive, but it didn’t bother me. I believed whole-heartedly in the mission; the Righteous Man had to be saved.” Cas smiles when he says that, thinking that, in many ways, his mission has never changed.
“When we arrived, it was madness. My garrison had countless battle plans prepared, but when faced with the realities of the Pit, they fell apart completely. So the new plan was to split up, and to get you in any way we could, at any cost.” Cas closes his eyes for a moment, remembers the flashing lights and the screaming, remembers the wild urgency of the mission and the way it matched every beat of the war drums. “My brothers and sisters couldn’t see you. No one could. But I could feel you.”
Cas thinks this is both Dean’s favorite and least favorite part, so he takes extra care to get it right. “I don’t know why I felt you when no one else could. Maybe I just happened to look in the right place. Maybe I got lucky. Whatever it was, I followed that feeling for years, your soul lighting the way as I went. I killed thousands of demons in the process; my blade saw more use than it had in millenia. And when you broke, I…” Cas doesn’t know that there are words for the regret he’d felt in that moment, the shame in not reaching Dean fast enough to stop it. He doesn’t think Dean would want to hear it, anyway, so he pushes forward. “The Host wanted to pull my garrison out and send another one in to get you later, since the seal had already broken. They felt like a delay wouldn’t matter. But like I said, I could feel you. So I asked for more time.” Cas feels his lips quirk into a small smile. “Well, maybe I demanded it. At any rate, they agreed to remain a little longer.”
Dean huffs out a little laugh, and fondly says, “Causing trouble all the way back then, huh?”
“Apparently.” Cas presses a kiss to the top of Dean’s head, simply because he can. “So I kept searching—I knew I was closer than I’d ever been, but it was still difficult to find you. And then, it was…” Cas lets the memory wash over him: perfect, golden warmth in the midst of all that desperation, all that agony. And he decides to let himself say more than he normally would when telling this story. Dean should hear it, he thinks. “I don’t know how to describe how it felt to see your soul. How there was nothing for so long, and then, all at once, there was everything. You were everything, all things good and right and beautiful.”
Dean fidgets uncomfortably. “Cas—”
Cas was anticipating this, and doesn’t let him finish. He shifts their positions so that they’re both lying on their sides facing one another; Dean’s eyes dart around, looking anywhere but at the man mere inches away. Cas reaches out to touch his face. “Dean, look at me.”
And though it clearly takes a herculean effort, he does. Cas is suffused with such pride and affection that he can’t help but lean forward and press a kiss to his lips. “My Dean,” Cas whispers when they separate, thumb running up and down his cheek. “My beloved.”
Dean closes his eyes, like it hurts to hear. Cas knows that for Dean, sometimes it does. So he keeps his hand gentle on Dean’s face, and he continues the story.
“I pulled you close to me. Almost like this.” Cas smiles, watches Dean’s lips twitch too. “I wrapped my wings around you so that you’d be safe as we escaped. Nothing could touch you. And when we made it out, I cried out to the Host: Dean Winchester is saved. It was a victory for Heaven, of course, but I was… I was grateful that you wouldn’t be there anymore. A soul like yours never belonged in Hell.”
Dean opens his eyes, shining with unshed tears. Cas runs his thumb along his cheek once, twice, before Dean says, “Did you know then?”
“What? That I loved you?”
“Yeah.”
Cas thinks about it for a moment. “I didn’t know. I don’t think I knew for a long time, and it was even longer before I understood all of its depth. But now, looking back,” Cas says, “I loved you the moment I saw your soul.”
Dean gives a watery laugh. “Love at first sight, huh?”
“Maybe for me,” Cas lets go of Dean’s face, moving his hand to rest gently on his hip. “I seem to recall you stabbing me.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Dean grins. “And I shot you.”
“You did,” Cas says, amused.
“To be fair, you were freaking me the fuck out. You walked in that barn and put on a damn light show for me and Bobby.” Dean’s eyes sparkle playfully, and Cas is in love. He’s so in love. “Except that was just for me, wasn’t it?”
Cas huffs, but he’s still unable to cover up his complete and total adoration. It’s okay, he thinks—Dean’s not doing a very good job of it, either. “I was still adjusting to my vessel.”
“You were showing off.” Dean reaches out and threads his fingers through Cas’s hair at the base of his skull. “It’s okay. It worked. I was impressed.”
“Oh, you were?” Cas decides that enough is enough and pulls him closer, pressing lingering kisses along the column of Dean’s throat. “Maybe I should do things like that more often.”
Dean sighs contentedly as Cas sucks a sweet mark below his jaw. “Maybe. It’s fun when you show off.”
They kiss for a few lazy, languid minutes. It’s very late, and as it grows even later, Cas hovers in a space near sleep, so relaxed and peaceful that each kiss feels like it’s part of a dream. Until Dean pulls back and says in a voice that wakes him right up, “Cas?”
“Yes?” Cas searches Dean’s face in the darkness.
“Thank you.” The words are nearly whispered. “Thank you. For saving me, for being here, for loving me. I don’t—” Dean’s breath catches, and he drops his head on Cas’s shoulder. His next words are muffled and warm against Cas’s skin. “Just… thank you.”
Cas gathers him close, and not for the first time, marvels at the precious thing that exists between the two of them. “You’re welcome, Dean.”
Dean doesn’t say anything else, but he holds Cas a little tighter. It’s alright—Cas understands.
#rambleoncas#userzaddy#seffersonjtarship#offbeattraxx#kashmircastiel#deancas#destiel#dean#cas#deancas fic#destiel fic#del's writing
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The Cracks in Our Reality (1)
Summary: Loki hates the Executive Manager of the Avengers Tower because she’s too loud and too sarcastic and too kind and too soft, especially to him, who really doesn’t deserve it.
Characters: Loki/Plus-sized (f)Reader
Warnings: 18+ (no smut), language, violence
A/N: Thanks for reading my first ever fanfiction! Updates weekly on Saturday.
Series Masterlist | AO3 | Playlist
The first time he hears her voice, it is shrill and shrieking and about his brother, so of course he hates it.
“Thor’s here?” Loki hears as they walk down the hallway. When he gambles and glances to his side, Thor’s lips are split with the biggest grin Loki’s seen him wear since they touched down in Midgard. Vacantly, he guesses it’s a fangirl who’s waiting for his brother—how typical.
It’s always like this.
And as they approach the room from which the light is bleeding into the hallway, Thor’s fangirl shouts again, “Why didn’t you tell me? Where the hell is he?”
Thor crosses the threshold into Loki’s new world in three long strides. Unlike his brother, Loki sticks to the shadows, only moving close enough to see what is awaiting him past the corner of the corridor. It’s all one big blur of motion, really, as Thor strides through the Avengers Tower and scoops a young woman off her feet, into his arms, and Loki’s reflex is to curl his lip in sneer.
He looks away and ignores the girlish giggles, choosing to survey his new surroundings instead. With one wide sweep of the room, he indexes four familiar faces.
Stark, who's watching his brother and the fangirl, shoulders drawn up and tight in defense.
Rogers, America’s Golden Boy, with his biceps bulging from where his arms are crossed.
Banner. He smiles and Loki feels a mixture of fear and guilt swirl viciously inside him.
And Romanoff, who’s staring right at him, her eyes narrowed, a twitch in her index finger. Evidently she’s not forgiven his sins either. Not that it matters—as quickly as she could pull the handgun strapped to her thigh on him, he could vanish in half that.
There’s only one person Loki can’t catalogue, can’t connect her face to a name, and it’s the fangirl Thor is spinning around the room with, her legs swinging wildly in the air.
She shouts his brother’s name jubilantly, the loudest sound in the room, their laughs mingling together like the sweet and spice of mead.
“My lady!” Thor squeezes her to his body in a tight grip once they stop twirling in place, and then she’s kicking her feet until her polished black heels slide off and hit the floor, fists pounding on his shoulder.
Well, a fangirl surely wouldn’t do that.
“Put me down you big puppy man, you obnoxious God, you are killing me—” The woman is wheezing even as she yells, quite dramatically really, and Loki’s sneer starts to turn into a frown. Who is she to talk to the King of Asgard with such disrespect? As much as Loki loves to see Thor ridiculed, her casual relationship with his brother irritates him more than he anticipated.
Thor drops her onto her bare feet with a delicate softness Loki’s never witnessed before, and the woman settles herself, pulling her dress down and brushing imaginary dust from the fabric, and then she turns up to look at his brother and she wears the most gorgeous smile on her face Loki might ever have witnessed.
“Welcome back to Earth,” she quips, her voice much gentler now, and Loki decides right then and there that he doesn’t just hate her voice.
He hates her.
“It’s good to be back, my lady. Have you been well?”
She opens her mouth to speak, but Stark cuts her off immediately.
“Pleasantries later, ” he says, taking a step toward Loki’s direction. “Reindeer Games is lurking in the shadows over there and it’s making me second guess this whole shebang.”
That’s his cue. Loki slinks out from the corridor and into the light of the common room, and all eyes are on him. He basks in the attention like a cat basks in the sun. This is the first time in a long time he's been on Midgard without chains seizing his hands and feet—his mouth is free of a muzzle and he’s going to use it.
“Stark,” he purrs, but his eyes flit around the room, passing over every single Avenger that’s now standing defensively. “Always a pleasure to be in your presence.”
Vaguely, he’s aware of how the woman has taken to Thor’s side, where his brother is sheltering her under his arm, but he doesn’t break Stark’s stare to look at her. What care does he have for one of Thor’s fangirls anyway?
“You brought your brother here?” she asks, and Loki relishes in the hint of fear hiding itself within the confusion in her voice.
“Did they not tell you?” Thor sounds increasingly worried.
“No,” she hisses, “they did not. What the fuck is going on, Tony?”
Rogers moves closer now, and Loki lends his gaze to the way the super soldier’s hand falls upon the woman’s shoulder, swallowing it. She bristles slightly at his touch and it amuses him for a moment. Maybe she dislikes America’s Golden Boy just as much as he does.
“We meant to tell you, sweetheart,” Rogers says, his voice gentle.
Disgusting. Is she everyone’s fangirl in this cursed tower?
“It slipped my mind after the mission a few nights ago. I’m sorry we didn’t warn you.”
She shrugs Rogers’ hand off her shoulder, but Thor holds onto her tightly. Loki feels like his eyes will burn out of his head from how long he’s been staring, how rigid his body, how much he wants to be anywhere but here right now.
“Are you serious?” Loki isn’t sure he’s seeing the same woman who was just looking at his brother like he was the sun, what with the way she’s glaring at Stark now. “Was I the last to know about this? Is there a room ready for him? Does the press—oh god, the fucking press doesn’t know about him, do they? Tony, I’m going to have to call a press conference. I’m going to have to rebook all the schedules. Are you shitting me?”
Then, she whirls on him, slipping out from beneath Thor’s arm and marching up to him like he isn’t the crazed man who tried to subjugate New York a few years prior. As if he isn’t a God. As if he couldn’t crush her frail body beneath the nail of his smallest finger.
He doesn’t know whether to be impressed or frightened, so Loki settles for the burning hatred that’s been crawling over his skin since he entered the Tower.
She juts out a hip, places her hand on it, and looks straight up at him. “Do you even want to be here?”
No. Of course not.
But no one ever bothers to ask Loki what he wants, and now this puny Midgardian has done so within the first five minutes of even knowing him, and he doesn’t even know her name but there is so much heat searing through him and he hates her.
She isn’t much, really. She’s small in stature, her head barely grazing his brother’s shoulders, forcing her to crane her neck as she addresses Loki. If she were to kneel at his feet now, she’d be the perfect height for him to take his pleasure. He quickly rips the thought away and throws it to the fire growing in his veins.
But she is curvy, that much is sure. She is much thicker than the slim Midgardian women he’s seen on his journeys here, much softer than the Asgardian warriors who are built with muscle alone. Loki can’t keep staring at her, he can’t. Her eyes are narrowed, but bright in the lighting of the common room. Her lips, painted a brilliant shade of red, are twisted into some sort of puckered frown that makes him wonder how well she’d fare when he played tricks on her.
He scoffs at her, rolling his eyes and looking away, because Norns, what is he supposed to say?
The truth?
“Banner, why don’t you walk Rabbit to her room?” Stark calls, and when Loki looks back at him, they’re locked in another stare. Loki feels a wave of something new, something bordering on shame, something that has him grasping for a scepter not in his hand and eyeing the bright blue beam of light in Stark’s chest. He still remembers what it felt like, that day he invaded New York.
It doesn’t feel good to remember, so like with all things, he pushes it to the back of his mind and replaces it with a smirk.
“What?” The woman—Rabbit, her name, perhaps—turns her glare on Stark once again. “You can’t just drop an Asgardian in the middle of my living room, ruin all my carefully crafted schedules for the next month and a half, and then tell me to go to my room like a child!”
“Run along now, little girl,” Loki mocks, and when she recoils at his words and takes a step back like she’s shocked, the heat that’s been building in his blood is suddenly ice. Her face is different now, brows drawn in anger, and her whole body stiffens and Loki feels like he does when he changes back into his native form.
Until she draws up a finger at him, storming toward him, ire flashing in her eyes with every step she takes, and Loki is alive again. His tongue is sharp, ready to meet her shrill demands, but Thor reaches out and grabs her with one sweep of his arm. She’s tugged back into his brother’s grasp, held closely to the broad expanse of Thor’s chest, and Loki stamps out his rising excitement. His brother ruins everything.
“My lady,” Thor says, “my brother lacks tact around pretty women, but he is harmless, I assure you.”
Loki lets his eyes drag from the top of her head down to the tips of her bare toes, still twisting against the floor as if she’s trying to break away from Thor’s hold, their lacquer catching the shine of the light. She painted them pink. Loki doesn’t think she’s all that pretty—he’s seen better in Midgard alone.
But then she mumbles something under her breath that sounds wickedly similar to “He’ll be harmless once I maim him with my shoe,” and Loki has to swallow back the laugh threatening at his lips.
The woman rips herself out of Thor’s grasp, shoving him away. Comically, Thor pretends as though her strength is enough to move him, feigning a stumble backward. Then, she picks up her heels from where they dropped to the floor and slips them onto her feet, and suddenly Loki could press his nose into the top of her head at this height.
“C’mon then, Bruce.” Without looking, she begins to stride toward the hallway, brushing past Loki. “We’ll let the boys pretend they have their shit under control.”
As she speaks, her eyes cut back to Loki, gaze burning. He isn’t sure a woman has ever looked at him with this much contempt before and gotten away with it. Banner quickly follows her and Loki listens to the rhythmic click of her heels all the way down the corridor until the elevator dings, and then she’s gone for good.
Her scent, floral and clean, clings to his nose for the rest of the night. He hates it.
“They call it community service here in Midgard!” Thor says, beaming. Loki wants to tear his brother's lips from his face, to burn that smile off his visage.
“You say that as if I should be proud,” Loki snarls back.
His room in the Tower is quaint. It’s more than Stark should offer him, that’s for sure, but Loki guesses it’s only more than a prison cell for the sole reason that it’s connected to Thor’s apartment and they don’t want the brothers to be separated. At the very least, it’s furnished. The bed is soft and big enough to share with a partner. He has a bathroom en suite. A walk-in closet to fill with clothes he doesn’t own.
Loki doesn’t own anything. Not even himself, now that he’s doing this community service on a planet he’s tried to conquer. Community service as a probationary Avenger in the stead of eternal damnation.
Thor only claps him on the back. “‘Tis better than serving a jail sentence, is it not?”
He raises a brow. “As if it isn’t imprisonment itself.”
“You should be thankful, Loki. Stark has been very cooperative with allowing you to stay here as an Avenger—”
“As a prisoner,” he interjects.
“—without threat of cells or cages or even chains.”
“And yet I am not allowed to leave the Tower.”
Thor frowns. “You tried to subjugate New York.”
Loki peruses this for a moment. He could say anything, but would it ever matter? It isn’t as if Thor’s ever understood. He didn’t understand when Loki let go and fell from the Bifrost and he sure didn’t understand when Thanos forced Loki to destroy New York. He never understands.
So instead of saying anything, Loki rolls his eyes, stalks into his room, and slams the door shut. He hopes it’ll make Thor finally leave him alone.
But Thor just stands on the other side of the door, shouting through the wood.
“This is your chance, brother. This is your chance at redemption. Do not let it go lightly, and I beg you, do not screw it up.”
Redemption—what a joke. If Odin taught Loki anything, it was that there was never going to be any redemption for him. He was lost. Irredeemable. A cold monster in the warm skin of an Asgardian. A snake who spoke in tongues, in lies and misery. Loki was nothing more than a puppet who didn’t see how his strings connected him to his master.
Loki waits until he hears Thor stomp away, until he hears the slam of the door across from his own, before he conjures an image of his mother in the palm of his hand.
He doesn’t know how long he spends looking at her, a vision spread against his fingers. The only sign that she isn’t real is the shimmering edges of Loki’s illusion. Once upon a time, when there was so much blood and sweat and tears running into his eyes, he wasn’t able to tell what was real and what was magic. Illusory images are only illusory to those of a sound mind—something Loki hasn’t always been.
Even he, the God of Lies, has a reality that can be broken. A truth that can be muddled by pain and fear until it shows what he wishes, what he would beg, the truth to look like.
A knock at the door almost sends him into a panic, flashes of the monster who haunts his nightmares creating new colors behind the back of his eyes. The illusion of Frigga dissipates into the air. Loki throws himself to his feet, flies from his bed to the door in a handful of steps, anger like a hot knife through the parts of his brain the terror hasn’t yet eaten through.
“Leave me be!” he roars at Thor from this side of the door. His hand twitches to conjure a dagger. If he opened the door, would the Mad Titan be on the other side? No. It’s only Thor. The Mad Titan is dead.
But Loki never saw him die—how can he be sure he is truly gone?
He cannot. His reality has been bent and broken and shattered a thousand times by the Mad Titan and Loki cannot remember what is real and what is false anymore.
With a dagger in hand, Loki throws the door open, prepared to see anything—Thor, Thanos, the father he slaughtered without a thought—and yet he is still surprised by what he sees standing just outside his room.
The dagger disappears from his white-knuckled grip. The Midgardian woman’s eyes are wide, like moons, the depth of color in her irises the crevices and craters. She takes a step back and Loki sees her hands trembling.
His lips part to apologize. Pride seizes in his chest and he closes his mouth. His breathing is labored, chest heavy with the rise and fall of every tight contracting of his lungs. She’s holding something in her arms. A tray is set beside her on the floor, a few scattered plates of Midgardian food sitting atop it.
The silence between them is deafening.
In a moment all too soon, her eyes narrow into slits and she rolls her shoulders back, straightening her spine and drawing up to her full height. Loki reminds himself that he can crush her. He could kill her with one strike of his boot. She is nothing, and the ice that is making a slow crawl up every disc in his back isn’t guilt, it’s caution.
How dare a mortal as small as she look at him like that? He is the Prince of Asgard, the Rightful King of—
“Fuck you,” she spits, and it’s Loki’s turn to recoil. Instantly, the edges of his vision turn red and he hopes, shamefully, that his eyes are flashing the same dreadful, savage color as a means to scare her into submission.
His nostrils flare with his indignation. “How dare you—” he starts, but she throws whatever she had been holding at his chest and Loki instinctively grabs it. It’s soft against his cold hands.
“I thought you might be hungry,” she hisses, venom dripping from every word. “I thought you might need some extra fucking blankets. Excuse me for being nice, Your Highness.”
The way the word rolls off her tongue makes his fingers tighten in the downy fabric she’s given him. He should feel good. In fact, he tips his chin upward to look down upon her from the slope of his nose. But he doesn’t feel good.
“I don’t need anything from you, little girl,” he sneers. “I have no business with you.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, jutting out that damn hip again.
“Actually, you’ll have much more business with me from now on, Your Highness.” With a grace he wasn’t sure she had, she draws up a hand to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, eyes never leaving his. “I’m the Executive Manager of the Avengers Tower. You’ll be seeing much more of me, and unfortunately, I’ll be seeing much more of you.”
Loki scoffs. “A mortal such as yourself could hardly provide me with anything satisfactory.”
He glances, almost imperceptibly, at the dinner tray she’s brought up to him. Loki swallows a lump in his throat.
She shrugs. “Whatever. You can be an asshole if you want. I’ll still do my job whether you like it or not because I’m a professional and I’m damn good at what I do.”
Her eyes flash with something dangerous, and then she’s taken two steps forward and is craning her neck up to look at him, on her tiptoes in an attempt to match his height. Her pointer finger is just below his chin.
It brings him an exhilaration he hasn’t felt in centuries, a thrill trembling through his nerves.
“But if you ever draw a knife on me again, you’ll regret it.”
He laughs, flashing her a predatory grin, but she doesn’t back down.
“I sincerely doubt that,” he says, his tone mocking.
Her lips peel back to reveal a set of pearly teeth, and though her mouth softens, her eyes are as sharp as the blade of his dagger.
“I do the bidding of every Avenger in this tower,” she tells him. “You, included. Every single person in this entire building owes me a favor. I’m not beneath calling on every one of them to knock you down a peg, Your Highness.”
Loki watches as she lowers herself back down, rolling off the balls of her feet. He’s gripping the door frame so hard he can feel the wood giving beneath his fingers. There is something so vexatious about this woman that he can’t discern.
“If you need anything, you can ask FRIDAY to let me know. You can call me Rabbit—it’s what everyone else here calls me, and Tony’s annoyingly programmed the AI to call me that, too. Enjoy your lonesome night, Your Highness.”
She turns on her heel before he has a chance to reply, strutting out of his apartment and disappearing around a corner. He hears the quiet ding of the elevator, just as he did earlier, signaling her departure.
Loki looks down at the tray of food she’s left behind. With one angry breath, a wave of magic bursts forth from his body, sending the plates crashing against the walls of the apartment. Food smears down every surface. Ceramic and glass mingle in shattered pieces. It’s immature. It’s childish. He knows this, but he can’t stop himself. Fury pulses at his fingertips, hot like the burn of ice.
He hates her.
Next Chapter
Taglist: @poetic-fiasco @suffocatinglypositive @melancholic-metanoia
#loki x reader#loki x you#loki love#avengers loki#plus size reader#redemption loki#loki fanfic#the cracks in our reality#loki pov#loki series#thanks for supporting me!
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Ｂａｃｋ Ｔｏ Ｙｏｕ (Ｓａｍ Ｗｉｌｓｏｎ ｘ Ｆ!Ｒｅａｄｅｒ)
📎Word Count: 1.5k
📎Warning/s: some heckin’ words. Bucky’s in this, he’s a bit annoying (affectionately) <3 MINORS DNI.
📎A/N: omg my first Sam fic! i wanna thank my boo @babyboibucky for enabling me hsakjdhak ily! this is for you, bee!
📎Masterlist || Ask || AFTERDARK
📎 Follow the story: Back To You, Dimples, Inked
“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky says, annoyed that Sam has been looking down on his phone, remotely giving attention to their conversation.
Sam grins, fingers dancing over the keyboard on the screen, “Yeah, yeah. Something about motel rooms—or beds.”
“I said that they gave us two beds in one room,” the former spots their door number, quickly walking to it. The tactical bag swinging over his cybernetic arm freely.
The night was warm, the air blew the ocean mist towards the town. The parking lot is empty save for a black sedan that’s already been through a lot. They chose to stay low instead of getting a room at a decent hotel close by–something about them not likening the crowd.
Once inside, both men cleared the room in 30 seconds flat. The window opens out, the door stays closed and locked. The TV has to be on but kept on low volume. The beds are made, it’s clean; beats the flat beds on the plane.
Sam throws his bag over to the bed closest to the window, calling dibs. “Hey, you got headphones?” He asks.
“No,” Bucky answers, settling his things below the foot of the bed, “why?” He catches Sam again smiling giddily over something, “what you got a girl there or something?”
“It’s none of your business,” Sam retorts, quirking his eyebrow upwards, “well? Do you have headphones?”
“If you listened to me, you would’ve heard me say ‘no.’”
Bucky should’ve had brought headphones. Sam has been droning on and on with a ‘friend’ over on a video call.
Not that he’s eavesdropping and nosy but he saw how Sam lit up when a voice came in from his phone.
“Hey, Sammy! I finally get to see your face.” You say, your voice crackling over Sam’s speakers, “am I on speaker right now?”
Sam smiles, focusing on your background and seeing pictures and posters plastered on the wall, “oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot my earphones somewhere.”
“What? Old man Barnes rubbing off on you?” You laugh, your glasses reflecting your laptop’s screen. Your joke sending Sam into a laughing fit.
“You know he’s in the room, right?” Sam clarifies as he turns the camera to Bucky, much to the former’s dismay. But despite himself, Bucky waves to the camera.
“Heard a lot about you, Barnes! Hope you’re ready for frequent bathroom trips from this one.”
Sam faces you again, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes, “Shut up or I’m gonna drop the call.”
You quickly send him an emoji via text, Sam rolling his eyes as you giggle. “Anyway, since you can’t join in on the fun, you’ll be my audience tonight.”
Sam gives you a confused look, a hint of crease appearing between his brows. “Tonight? What’s tonight?”
A fake gasp and an overdramatic show of hurt had him chuckling, “You already forgot the karaoke night you promised me, didn’t you?”
He grins apologetically and looks at the camera, as if looking into your eyes, “I’m sorry. Been busy these past few weeks.”
You smile softly, the imagery giving Sam a burst of butterflies in his tummy, “it’s okay. I was just being dramatic. I got that from you, you know.”
You are not a good singer. But you confidently belt out the highest of notes like one. Complete with hand gestures, you hold out the last note of the song.
“Thank you,” you bow down to your imaginary crowd off-camera, “I’ll be here all night.”
“On god, please don’t,” Sam interjects with a tender smile and soft eyes.
“Sammy!” Your eyes glazing over your screen, a deep pang of homesickness hitting you, “I missed this. I missed you.”
He nods, his lips pressed tightly as he tries to find the words to respond, “I missed you too, bub.”
A soft note of a love song sounds over your speaker, traveling to his, “you love this song.”
Sam nods, reminiscing the moments he had with you during college. The one time you almost kissed—where are these memories and feelings coming from?! “Yeah, and---”
The doorbell rings on your end. Your eyes glinting as you stand up. Food delivery!
“Hold that thought, Sammy. My food’s here,” you say, your voice faint as you’re practically halfway through the door.
“She is a god-awful singer,” Bucky expresses, “but you love her, don’t you?”
“What?” Sam quickly taps a button on his screen—stupid Bucky and his stupid mouth. He covers his phone’s mouthpiece as if that could help, “shut the hell up.”
Sam’s changed demeanor confirms Bucky’s growing suspicion, “so you do love her!”
The latter glances at the empty screen, hoping you didn’t hear anything. Or maybe, he does?
The only sign of life from your end is the sound of various utensils cluttering and a metal bowl falling to the floor, making both men wince at the sudden noise.
Sam lowers the volume of his phone, facing Bucky from their respective beds.
“Shit,” Sam exclaims, running a hand over his handsome face, “maybe I do.”
This time, he finally lets himself go through the memories you made together before he left for the military.
The coffee dates, the late-night calls, the breakfast hangouts, the study sessions. You light up even the most boring of things. The texture of your skin, the sound of your laugh, the twinkle in your eyes bring Sam into a warm place.
You make him feel enough. You see him through and through.
Oh shit, he is in love with you.
Bucky just looks at him, boring holes in his face, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “You really just realized, just now?” Sam’s not sure if it’s a rhetorical question.
“The way you talk about her. The way you talk to her. You see her and the things she like everywhere we go and you realize it just now?” So, it is a rhetorical question.
The revelation leaves Sam amused but unable to form words, “I… Do–I do love her. I’m in love with my best friend.”
A silent beat drops in the room—save for the faint hello? coming from Sam’s phone.
Ah, fuck.
Bucky put on his jacket planning to head out (to the motel’s ice machine) to give you two privacy. He bids Sam good luck and you a good night before walking towards the door.
As soon as the door shuts, Sam increases the volume on his phone again.
“Sam?” You call out, “I can’t see you, your cam’s off.”
In panic, he realizes that he tapped the wrong button—maybe Old Man Barnes had rubbed off on him.
You smile and sat up a little bit straighter when his face lights up your screen again.
“So… how much did you hear about the whole thing?” Sam wants to tread carefully around the subject, the first time he feels uncomfortable opening up to you.
He fully expects you to dismiss the topic, turn in for the night, and leave him lamenting about his feelings. And he’s somehow okay with it.
“Kinda, everything.” You confess, there’s nothing holding you back now, “I, you know-- I’m glad you got ‘round it. Even if it took you years.”
Another pin drops inside Sam’s head, “what do you mean?”
“Look, I confessed to you before we graduated but you never acknowledged it. So, I never brought it up again.” Even miles apart, Sam’s presence was around you. The bracelet he gave you during junior year, his favorite mug you borrowed from him, a ton of his shirts and hoodies that he gave to you before moving out after graduation.
“You confessed to me? When?” Sam racks his brain for the smallest of details, for the quietest of whispers.
“I wrote you a letter. Remember? I slipped it under your door after finals week.”
After all these years, Sam never quite found out who wrote him that letter, “you never signed it.”
Sam didn’t expect you to laugh, to double over such a serious conversation, “dude, I did, I signed it. Why would I send you a deep proclamation of love without signing it?”
“It was written on pink paper, right? I still have it. You wanna bet that you don’t have your name on it?”
Your eyes widen in embarrassment, heat creeping up your cheeks, “oh my god, are you serious? I didn’t sign it?”
Sam laughs softly, his eyes crinkling the same way. There are lines decorating his eyes but he was still your Sam.
“No, ma’am.” He declares, the air somehow lighter now, “if you did, I would’ve said something.”
A hum escapes your lips, curling into a gentle smile, “good to know.”
The comfortable silence envelops the room, years of yearning and pining finally coming to end.
“Hey, after this mission - I was thinking if you want to go out. Catch up and you know, finally, talk in person.” Sam asks, there’s still a tiny voice inside his head not believing the talk that had transpired.
“I’d love that, Sam.”
The sentiment crashes and closes in on itself as Bucky barges into the room, holding a bucket of ice in one hand and a pack of beer in the other, “congratulations, idiots.”
#bitchasbucky writes#sam wilson x reader#sam wilson x reader fluff#sam wilson x reader angst#sam wilson x reader smut#sam wilson fluff#sam wilson angst#sam wilson smut
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Hawks and reader are both virgins, doing it for the first time ! The mans busy, he hasn’t got a chance to smash yet 😆
I’m so so so so sorry this one took me ages 😭 I finished it just now, after like two weeks, hope you enjoy it!
[Warnings: NSFW, protected sex, virgin Hawks and reader, curses] Word count: 4343.
Free Fall
''I really don't understand why did we have to travel all around the globe to see a suspect.'' You whined as you left the bags in the middle of Keigo's apartment.
''Commission rules, you know how they are kid. Can't tell them no'' Keigo walked across the apartment stretching his wings wide, it was lucky that he didn't break anything.
You and Hawks worked together, you were not trained by the commission but they were aware of your abilities, and decided that you and Hawks should work with each other. And that's how you ended traveling to California, but the guys they had checked was just a suspect, and it turned out that he had nothing to do with your case, so in order not to waste more time you had to fly back all the way to Japan. And there you were, feeling tired as hell in Hawk's apartment.
''I hate them so much'' You said again, taking your shoes off. ''Mind if I take a shower?''
''Go ahead, and you need it. You stink'' Keigo teased as he let himself fall on the couch.
You were not only working partners, but the two of you were also very good friends, trusting enough to ask him to get a shower. And even borrowing one of his shirts without asking him. So that's what you did when you got out. The bathroom was inside his room, so the first thing you saw when you got out was the large and comfy bed. Damn, you wish you could just lay there and have some good sleep. His bedroom was rather big, kinda messy but tidy at the same time, and it smelled like him, his perfume and scent. Maybe it was a bird thing, you thought. But it wasn't uncomfortable, on the contrary. It was nice.
After picking a random Keigo's shirt, you went back to the living room, and the blonde man's eyes went wide at your image. His shirt too big for your body, covering almost half of your thighs. Naked thigs. Maybe later you were going to ask him for a sweatpant.
"Earth to Hawks?" You called him with a smile by the third time. "You good?"
"What? Yeah, I just love that shirt" he could say.
"Oh, should I take it off? I don't mind"
"No, keep it on. It looks good on you" he scratched the back of his head as he stood up "I will take a shower too. Are you crushing here tonight or want me to fly you home? It is pretty late though"
"Oh, I'm not a damsel in distress, winged hero" you lifted an eyebrow "but I was thinking of staying, I feel too lazy to go out. Besides it is cold as hell" you pouted.
"Oh shut up" Keigo let out a low chuckle "Ok then, make yourself home" that was the last thing he said before heading to the bathroom.
The truth was, that things between you were kind of complicated. You had a crush on him, but you were good at hiding it. How could you not fall for someone like him? He was funny, caring, handsome, a bit of an asshole but that was part of his charm. However, you knew him a bit more than the rest. You had seen him worried after you got injured on a mission, or sad whenever he had failed. Or done something he wasn't proud of. You even knew his real name, but it was not common to call him like that.
But it thinking about it was not making things different. He was a busy man, and he should have an army of women behind him, there was no way he had the same feelings for you. You were just friends. That's it.
Minutes went by, and after drying your hair you went back to Hawk's room, it was about time to borrow those sweat pants. However, you got distracted when you saw the view from his room; the entire city shining at your feet. Your eyes went bright to at such beauty.
"What are you looking at?" A Keigo dressed in a tank top and grey sweatpants took you out of your thoughts.
"The city looks so pretty from here" you smiled "so many lights and colors. Don't you get distracted when you fly?"
"Yeah, sometimes when I'm just patrolling. Most times I don't even pay attention to it. To busy fighting the bad guys y'know" he laughed and stood next to you. ''It is not as bright as your smile, though'' Did he think his words? he didn't.
You felt your cheeks getting a bit red, what did he mean by that? He had it so clear. Since the day you walked into his office, he felt his blood rushing through his veins, the need to talk to you, to get to know you overwhelmed him. There was no way a jerk like him could get close to you. But it changed when you started working together, and it was as if two pieces of a puzzle finally found each other, working in perfect sync.
He looked back at you, a shy smile still plastered on his face. It isn't worth it to tell her how I feel, she must have a lot of guys waiting for her, Keigo thought. Or maybe he should risk it all, fuck it.
''Y/n? I-You'' He stopped ''You're the best sidekick I've had'' That was a compliment? You're an idiot, Hawks. He said to himself.
''Well, thank you. You make it easier though'' You gave him a sided smile as you left a strand of your hair behind your ear.
''Yeah, anytime'' Keigo smiled back at you.
There was a moment of pure silence between the two of you. His golden eyes were stuck on yours as yours were on his. You could swear he was analyzing every detail of your face, and you couldn't help but make your eyes take a little trip on his facial traits too. Smiles vanished as both of you realized what was happening, yet no one wanted to talk about it. Or let it out. Finally, Keigo parted his lips to let out some words but he got interrupted by his phone ringing.
''Shit, sorry. Gotta take this one'' He apologized, turning away from you quickly in an attempt of hiding his blush. He hated whoever was calling.
In the meantime, you let out a sight. It was the first time he had been so close to you, so close it was possible to see the definition of his stubble, a stronger color in his eyes, details that daily were unnoticed. Maybe you were crazy and those were hallucinations.
Getting away from your thoughts, you got closer to the big window, resting your hands on it as you look down drawn by the lights. But you had no idea that the window was not closed. Keigo left it open when he got out the last time. And there you were. Everything happened in a split of a second, the big window opening, you feeling the weight of your body being pulled down by gravity, Keigo ending his call and turning back at you. His eyes went wide and his wings puffed immediately.
That was it? That was the end of your life as a hero and as a human being? All those years of intense training were vanishing in a second. What the hell could you do if you were free-falling?
But there was one detail you forgot. Hawks was there.
His reflexes worked on time when he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you back in with the help of his wings to get the right amount of strength. He couldn't lose you, not before telling you everything he felt.
You ended up falling anyway, but not from the last floor of the building. You fell right on the floor, over the winged hero who had you secure in his arms. Keigo's wings hurt when he fell with his back on the floor, but you were fine. That's all he cared about.
''Shit kid, you good?'' He asked you, panic still present in his voice as he looked at you.
''Yes, damn that was so quick'' You let out a nervous laugh, and waited for a few seconds for him to set you free from his strong grip. ''Uhm, Hawks? You can-You can let me go now'' This time there was no nervousness from almost falling, they were because of the little distance that was between the two of you, the way his hands felt on your back and how his body felt against yours. Suddenly, his body started shivering lightly, and the following words just slipped out of his mouth.
''No, I can't. I really fucking can't... Ever'' He whispered that last word.
''What do you me-''
''Fuck it''
That was all you could hear before he slammed his lips on yours. It was a messy and shy kiss, but you felt even dizzier than when you were about to fall. He tasted like mint, and the way his stubble tickled your chin felt amazing. Your lips moved softly against him, in an attempt to calm him down.
''I like you. I fucking like you, y/n'' He said, eyes pleading for a positive answer ''I can't let you go cause I don't wanna be away from you. I just can't''
''Hawks...'' You whispered ''I-''
''Listen, you don't have to say it back. I know you must have lots of guys waiting for you, and better than me. With normal lives and-'' This time, you interrupted him crashing your lips with his one more time.
''I like you too, and there's no one else'' You said when your lips were still slightly touching ''You never leave my head, Hawks''
If someone were looking at that scene, they could notice the tension from miles away. And then they would ask, why do they keep wasting time? Hawks lifted his head to kiss you once more, this time eagerly. His hands found home on your hips as you softly rested your hands on his chest.
You felt your heart racing, it was the first time you found yourself in such a circumstance. It felt odd yet familiar, you didn't want it to stop. Daringly and as if it was an agreement the kiss turned into a heated one, his tongue caressing yours with need but with shyness.
''Call me Keigo'' He whispered as he sat on the floor, wings wide open.
You tangled your legs on his waist, feeling totally unsure about it. Was he comfortable? Was it like that? Those feelings and emotions you were experiencing, were normal? Thousands of questions roamed through your head as you continued kissing him. And then you felt it again, his hands shivering on your hips.
''You okay?'' You asked him tenderly, a hand caressing his cheek.
''Yeah, it's just...'' He looked away, hiding from your eyes. ''I've never...'' His golden eyes were looking at you again. Embarrassed, shy, and even scared. ''Damn, this must be so depressing'' Keigo scoffed, drifting his eyes away one more time. However, you felt a relief inside of you. And you couldn't help laughing a bit awkwardly.
''It's fine, I... I haven't either'' You shrugged your shoulders, his eyes lighted up looking up at you.
''Really?'' you nodded ''We can stop it here, though. I can go take another shower and-'' You shut him up again.
''I want you'' a whisper left your lips, sending shivers down his spine. You could feel now his hard crotch against you and your cheeks turned red.
''Are you sure you want me to be your first?'' Keigo's voice was almost unhearable, and you melt in tenderness when he caressed the back of your head with such affection.
''Are you sure?'' You laughed nervously.
''Totally'' His smile could brighten an entire city, and that night it was shining just for you. He moved a bit, creating friction between you and him. You let out a surprised yet pleasing whimper ''Shit, sorry''
''Don't worry, isn't that what is this all about?'' You laughed again.
''Yeah, you're right'' A kiss on your chin ''Come here''
He lifted you with ease so he could lay you down on his bed. And it was as comfortable as you thought it was. After a long struggle of getting rid of Keigo's shirt between laughs and jokes, he was kissing you tenderly and fiercely, feeling his own body shiver under your touch. You took the time to appreciate his body. It was not as muscular as other pro heroes, but his muscles were still well defined.
His lips on your neck feel like heaven, the way he kissed and lick your kiss had you wanting more, but the fear and the doubt were there too. And he could feel the exact same thing. Keigo's shaking hand move to the end of the shirt you were wearing. Once it was off, you tried to cover yourself. You were supposed to sleep in the guest's room that night, therefore wearing a bra after a long trip was not the best idea, but nothing said that you were going to be under Keigo's body.
He sat on his knees looking at you, jaw hanging low as he licked his lips.
''Shit, your gorgeous'' You heard him say as he crawled back to you again, kissing your mouth ''Can I touch you?'' His voice was still low, and even though he was trying to keep it cool the way his body was reacting was betraying him.
''Of course'' You said biting your lower lip.
His hand moved down until it reached your breast, cupping it delicately. He let out a sigh over your lips when he felt your hardening nipple against his palm. The slow squeezes were amazing. You were human, you had needs. You had done that before trying to stimuli yourself, but his touch was nothing compared to his. His was magical.
''I want to...'' Keigo said to himself as he lowered his face towards your chest. He licked your nipple and you moaned loud enough for him to hear it. He repeated his actions, kissing the underside of your breasts, sucking them tenderly, and trying to make you feel good. And God he was wishing he was doing it well. As he carried on with his not so shy ministrations, your hands touched his torso, feeling his warm skin on your hands. It was possible to feel his hard length pressing against your thighs, and surrendering to the temptation you played with the edge of his pants.
''Is it Ok if I-''
''Please do'' His voice came out a few octaves low as he went back to kiss your neck.
Carefully you slid one hand inside of his sweatpants, and he wasn't wearing underwear. How convenient. You gripped his hard cock on your hand, and your mouth went open in surprise. It was thick. And long. You gulped as you started moving your hand up and down, blushing when he bucked his hips.
''You can do it a bit tighter'' He said with a shy smile, and you did what he said ''Fuck, yes. Just like that''
The way his heavy breath was on your ear was working you up faster than you thought. And instinctively you moved your hips towards him as well. Keigo used one hand to get in between the two bodies, sliding his middle finger down your slit, trembling at how wet you were. It felt nothing like the porn videos he used to watch on the nights he needed some relief. A moan escaped your lips when you felt his finger on you, moving slow and even a bit fearfully.
In an attempt of digging your free hand on his back, it landed on one of his wings. They weren't as sharpened as you used to see them whenever he was fighting or patrolling, they were soft. You moved your hands through the feathers, but just when you did an erotic moan left his throat.
''Fuck don't do that, I won't last long if you touch my wings'' His voice was tight, making you knew that it was a sensitive area.
''Sorry'' You said, kissing his jaw ''They're just so soft'' The way you spoke in his ear sent shivers down his spine again, and as you kept stroking him he said in between breaths.
''I need you'' His voice was low but filled with excitement at the same time.
''Do you have a-'' Keigo finished for you.
''A condom, shit. Yes I do''
He suddenly remembered. Every single feeling was overwhelming him, it was the very first time he was in such a situation with a woman, and not with any woman. With you, the one who stole his breath from the very first time, the one that took care of his wounds, the one he tried to protect every day.
He stood up from the bed quickly, moving to the nightstand that was next to it. Nervously he looked among all the useful and useless things, and then he found them. Keigo remembered that night clearly, how one of his drunks friends at the party held in his apartment had told him to use them with some hot chick, but instead, he just kept them on the nightstand. To busy to do that while he was saving the world.
Going back to the bed he sat on his knees right in front of you. His chest was cleary moving up and down as he stared at you, and you could tell you were looking the same. Shy, exposed, uncertainty in your head, but confidence was in your head too. You trusted him with your life, and your feelings for him were strong. You just had to take that leap of faith. That free-falling.
''I will... Can I take them off?'' Keigo asked, looking at your still clothed sex.
''Yes'' you managed to say, feeling your face burn in embarrassment.
Carefully, he slipped the cotton piece down your legs, making you completely exposed to him. Your breathing became erratic, what was he going to think? Was it ok? But his eyes, his eyes were yelling his thoughts. They looked brighter, and the golden melted in them seemed shinier than never. Keigo licked his lips and swallowed at the image in front of him, and almost as a primal instinct he slid a finger on your wetness, making you and him moan.
''Fuck you're so wet'' He murmured, repeating his actions.
''Is that good?'' you asked timidly and a humming sound was made with your throat when he slid a finger along your cunt again.
''As far as I know, it is'' He laughed nervously. It was calming to know you weren't the only one feeling like that.
Your eyes went wide when he pulled his pants down, his cock sprang free from its confines, and just as you felt it when you stroke it earlier it was thick and long, not extremely big but it had a good size. And honestly a scary one for a first time. Even for him. With shaky hands Keigo opened the silver package, and after fast seconds he rolled the condom down his length.
''Ok,'' He took a deep breath, leaning close to you again. You moan when his erection rubbed your entrance, and you could feel your heart beating like crazy inside your chest. ''You sure about this?'' Keigo asked one last time.
''I am,'' You said ''But be gentle'' You said holding your breath for a short while.
''Sure thing'' He said above your lips ''I'm not less nervous than you are'' Keigo laughed, and the sound of it felt like peace among the sea of emotions you were at. ''I don't wanna screw this up'' Now he looked at you, eyes full with concern.
''It doesn't have to be perfect'' You reassured him, caressing his face, making him nod like an excited child who was trying to hide their emotion.
''I'm gonna do it'' A kiss on your lips ''Just tell me if it hurts and I'll stop, ok?''
After agreeing with his statement you looked at him getting on his knees again, pulling you closer to him. He spread your legs once he was in between them and with a shallow breath he grabbed his length, aligned it on your entrance. Softly he pushed his hips towards you, and a sharp pain made you close your eyes.
''Shit, are you good?'' Keigo stopped his motions immediately, not even thinking about the heat taking over his body.
''Yeah, you can go on'' You said clenching your jaw, adjusting to him.
He moved his hips a bit more, and a loud moan filled your ears. That felt a lot better than his hand. Keigo kept pushing slowly, hating the fact that he was hurting you. But it was supposed to stop, wasn't it? You moaned again, this time with a mix of pain and pleasure.
''Fuck your big'' You managed to say, closing your eyes again as he started to pull out slowly again.
''Sorry, not my fault'' He joked to lighten the mood. He bit his lower lips trying to oppress another moan. And without even pulling out completely he thrust inside you again, as slow as the first lunge. ''I... I need to move'' He said, closing his eyes with strength too.
You gave him a nod right after digging your fingers on his shoulders. Keigo's hips started moving again, a soft and steady pace as he was filing you up. He cursed at the feeling, so warm and so tight, he thought. It was hard to keep that steady pace with each thrust, but he waited. Waited until you felt comfortable enough.
The pain was becoming less by the second, at it was being replaced with pleasure. He felt so good, all of him. Not only the way he felt inside you, but the comfortable weight of his body on top of yours, his fresh scent after the shower, the praises he was whispering in your ear, all of that was bigger than the pain you felt with those first movements. And you loved it. It was with one specific thrust he hit the perfect spot, making you throw your head back and moan loudly, tangling your legs on his waist.
''More'' You said.
Maybe it was your instincts talking, but you didn't care. You wanted him, all of him.
Keigo's movements became sloppier, messier. He had never felt that way before, but it was amazing. And the truth was, that he wanted more as well. He moaned lowly, burying his face in your neck as he started pounding faster and deeper. You felt that tension building in your lower stomach, and when he twitched inside of you something tell you it was about to end.
''Fuck I'm close'' He said with a drowned voice.
''Do it, Keigo'' You caressed the back of his head while you whispered in his ear, the coldness of his earing feeling better than it should. How could a simple detail make you shiver?
Your hand traveled down his neck, to his back, and then to his wings. Another loud moan escaped his lips when your fingers dug in his feathers, playing softly with them. Lots of 'fucks' were leaving Keigo's mouth, and moans were leaving yours when he needly sped up.
And there it was. Something hit you, and it sent you right to the place where you could see the music and listen to the colors. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head, bucked his hips towards him as you fell into a void of just pleasure.
Keigo bit your neck as a growl was made with his throat, his hips still moving a bit as he came undone. His sweaty forehead landed on yours, and he couldn't control the urge to kiss you deeply.
''You good?'' He asked when he ran out of breath.
''Never been better'' You said with a lazy smile on your face, making him chuckle.
''I lasted too little'' Keigo almost apologized, as if that was a bad thing. Once again you caressed his face, pulling him in for another kiss.
''It was perfect'' You whispered in between his lips.
''Was it?'' A tiny smile appeared on his face ''Stay tomorrow. Let's have lunch, like a proper date. What do ya' say, mhm?'' He said, using the tip of his nose to trace your cheek.
''It was'' You assured him. Eyes went wide in joy and surprise at his proposal ''You won't be able to get rid of me, then'' You lifted an eyebrow in an attempt of being cocky but laughing right after.
''Fine with me'' Now it was him the one who was smiling cockily. His lips were on your again, smiling between the kiss. ''I guess you're not staying in the guest's room tonight, right?'' He looked at you, using his arms to make you free from his weight. He pulled out, and the two of you moaned lowly again.
''I wouldn't even think about it, I've been wanting to cuddle with you for so long'' You admitted making him laugh.
''Well that makes two of us'' A kiss on your chin ''You'll get all the cuddles you want'' A kiss on the tip of your nose.
''But first, we gotta take another shower''
''Yes, this is so messy'' Keigo laughed and threw the preservative to the trash bin next to the bed.
''Keigo'' You called him out of nowhere, and he looked at you like a confused bird at such a sudden call. ''I like you. A lot'' A shy smile was on your lips. He smiled widely.
''I like you too. So, so much'' He whispered, and pulled you in for another tender kiss. Good things were to come.
#hawks x reader#hawks headcanons#hawks#my hero academia hawks#mha hawks#hawks imagine#hawksbnha#hawks smut#keigo x y/n#bnha keigo#keigo takami imagine#keigo takami#keigo x you#keigo imagine#keigo takami smut#keigo takami mha
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A Coops Sid's date. Pure fluff
Coops Wedding Part 3 is here! Post-wedding food (finally) and heading home together. Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove, as always <3
Preparations II Part 1 II Part 2
TW for flirty Coops
Sid’s was quite empty for a Thursday night in the summertime, which Sirius was eternally grateful for as they headed to their usual booth, slinging jackets over their chairs and tangling their legs together under the table with identical sighs of relief. Remus reached across the tabletop and laced their fingers together, tracing the lines of Sirius’ palm without looking away from his face.
His once-perfect bowtie hung loose around his neck, crooked even when untied; Sirius tugged one end, skewing it a bit more. “Cutie.”
“You are,” Remus said with a slight smile.
Just as Sirius was about to fire back with something equally sappy and romantic, a shadow fell over the side of the table. “Hey, guys, what can I get for you?” Nate asked as he dug his notepad out of his apron. “The usual?”
“Sounds great. How’ve you been, Nate?”
Nate shrugged. “Not bad, not bad. The summer rush is helping me save up for grad school, which is nice.” He gestured to their suit jackets with his pen. “Special occasion?”
“Yeah, we just got back from a wedding,” Remus said casually.
“Really? Whose?”
“Ours.”
Nate’s pen clattered onto the table as his jaw fell open; he glanced between them, speechless, and Sirius bit his lip to hold down his laughter. “You—your wh—you got married?”
They shushed him in unison and he held both hands over his mouth. “It was a small ceremony, just friends and family. We’re waiting to see how long it takes the media to find out.”
“That’s incredible,” Nate whispered, sniffling. “Oh my god. Fuck, congratulations.”
Sirius grinned, feeling the happiness bubble up in his chest again. “Thanks, man. It’s still sinking in, to be honest.”
“No, yeah, absolutely.” Nate shook his head for a moment before picking his notepad back up with a quiet huff. “Jesus. This is amazing. Pizzas are on the house for the newlyweds, okay?”
“Aw, Nate, you don’t have to—”
“It’s restaurant policy,” he interrupted, already moving toward the kitchen. “I can’t break the rules!”
“That’s not a rule,” Remus muttered as Nate disappeared behind the swinging doors. “That kid’s about to get the nicest tip of his goddamn life.”
“Mhmm.” Sirius guided Remus’ face back to him with a finger under his chin and kissed him slowly, sighing at the softness of his lips. He tasted like champagne, with a little bit of sweetness left from the wedding cake. “Sugar.”
“Is that a new nickname?” Remus asked as he transferred some weight to his elbows for a better angle.
“Could be. D’you like it?”
“Hmm.” A warm palm covered the side of Sirius’ neck. “It’s not bad. ‘Sweetheart’ works fine for me, though.”
“How about ‘husband’? ‘Husband’ sounds pretty good. Mon mari.” Remus blushed and tilted his face to the side, rubbing their cheeks together for a moment. “Quoi? C’est bien?”
Remus rolled his eyes, but he was hiding a smile. “You know I’m weak for the French.”
“I do.” Sirius kissed the inside of his wrist lightly. “Hey, that’s the second time I’ve said that today.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep. First time was better, though.”
Remus laughed and pulled him in for another kiss, combing the pads of his fingers through the curls just above Sirius’ ear. They stopped when the kitchen doors creaked open, but kept their foreheads together until Nate arrived with their food.
“Enjoy,” he said, practically glowing with excitement as he handed them napkins and utensils. “Congrats, again. I’m really happy for you guys. Have an amazing night.”
“Will do.” Remus smiled as he hurried back to the register, then reached for a slice of pizza and practically shoved the entire thing into his mouth. “Fucking hell, this is good.”
Sirius groaned in agreement, letting his eyes fall closed as the soft crust warmed him from the inside out. “This is the best part of my day.”
“Is it?”
“Yep. We’re married, we’re done with the party, and now there’s actual food to eat.” He held his fingers up to count. “Checking all my boxes.”
“Good point.” Remus stole a piece of pepperoni off one of his slices and Sirius made a noise of protest, only to pull a face when Remus set a bit of pineapple on the edge. “What? It’s a fair trade.”
Sirius glared playfully at him over the next slice, then hurried to catch the long string of cheese that slid free from the rest of the slice with a muffled yelp of distress.
“Do you need a hand?” Remus asked, clearly amused as he passed him an extra napkin.
“Uh-uh. I got it.” It took a second, but Sirius managed to get it all into his mouth without snorting pizza sauce through his nose as they both broke down laughing. “Another successful mission.”
“You’ve got pizza grease on your lip,” Remus said, reaching over to dab at the corner of his mouth with a napkin.”
“Thanks, love.”
They ate in relative silence for a few minutes, too focused on the hot food that they could finally enjoy without interruption; Sirius glanced at the wall clock and was astounded to see they had made it over ten hours since their last proper meal. No wonder he was so hungry.
“It felt weird sleeping alone last night,” Remus remarked once their plates were clean and Sirius wasn’t in immediate danger of getting hangry.
“I know, right?” Under the table, Sirius ran the side of his foot up Remus’ calf. “Super strange. We haven’t slept separately in months.”
“Mhmm.” Remus’ pupils dilated, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t just from the low light. “It was fun staying the night with the cubs, though.”
“Yeah?” Sirius pressed a little harder on the inside of his knee and Remus gripped his napkin.
Amber eyes flickered around the restaurant before settling on Sirius. “Baby. What are you doing?”
Sirius shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Really?” Remus raised an eyebrow and Sirius’ breath hitched as a hand squeezed the top of his thigh.
“I think we should head home.”
“Good plan.”
Thanks to Nate and his made-up rules, there was no bill to settle, but they left a tip anyway and made sure to say goodbyes to the familiar staff as they headed back to the car. If Sirius let Remus go through the door first for the express purpose of coping a feel without being seen by the other patrons, that wasn’t anyone’s business but their own.
“You are such a—” Remus’ teasing insult was cut short by hands curling into the front of his shirt and pulling him over the console as lips connected to his own in a far less chaste manner than before. “Well. Alright, then. Home?”
“Home,” Sirius confirmed, grinning as he started the car. It was impossible to not feel smug when he managed to bring that particular shade of pink to Remus’ neck and ears. Despite the anticipation in his stomach, he took the longer route, watching the shining lights of the city turn Remus’ face every color of the rainbow. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Remus glanced over and rested his temple on the window, tracing a small circle on the back of Sirius’ hand; a small smile tilted his mouth in that perfect, off-center way. “We’re married. That’s super fucking cool.”
“It is,” Sirius laughed. His cheeks were starting to hurt in the best way. “I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say that.”
“And I’ll never get tired of saying it.”
They reached the house a few minutes later, and Sirius’ heart leapt when he saw the front steps. “Wait!” he called, scrambling out of the car and grabbing Remus around the waist before he could go to the front door.
“What?” Remus asked, looking mildly alarmed until Sirius swept him into his arms. “Wh—really?”
“Please?” He pressed a quick kiss to Remus’ nose, then another to his forehead, again and again until Remus was laughing too hard to speak. “Please, please, please—”
“Okay, okay!” He draped his arms around Sirius’ neck and held on tight as he walked up the steps. “Do you have the keys?”
“Back pocket.” Remus reached around to get them and Sirius jumped when he felt a light smack as well. “Oh?”
Remus just kissed his cheek and unlocked the door, pushing it open with one hand. Hattie was having a sleepover with the Dumais’ for the night, thankfully; Sirius shuddered to think of what would happen if she collided with his legs in this vulnerable state.
“Ready?” Remus asked quietly, snuggling closer against his chest.
Sirius took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold, careful not to knock Remus into either side of the frame. He had crossed that little line a thousand times, maybe a million, but as they entered the dark house in dance-wrinkled suits with matching rings on their fingers, he felt a new chapter in the story of their life open up. The first of that particular volume, in fact.
He had the feeling it would be a good one.
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Drift (Part One)
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Story Warnings: Age Gap (not huge because Reader’s in her early 20s but it’s very present), slight DD/lg undertones (no D/s dynamics), Borderline Personality Disorder (Reader), Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (Bucky), Fluff, Slow Burn, Violence, Angst, Eventual 18+
Exerpt: It does feel kind of nice, having him look after you like this – having a more experienced agent take care of you. If you weren’t so completely fucked up right now, you’d be mortified. It’s your first mission, for one, and for two, you barely know him. Hell, you still call him Mr. Barnes, but here he is, saying honey and sweetheart to make you feel a little better.
A/N: my hand slipped 💀
You’re fresh. Green. Not yet a ‘real’ woman, but no longer a girl; somewhere in that topsy-turvy place in between where you’re still unsure of yourself and your purpose in life. You haven’t yet had the success that comes along in your twenties because you’ve been too wrapped up in your studies, too wrapped up in academic achievements to focus on other things.
And because of that, you haven’t been exposed to real failure. Not really. Not yet.
A new recruit, straight out of the Academy. Top marks in all of your classes. Excellent in theory, untested in practice. Training only. It makes sense that you’re a prime candidate to poach for the compound, but you’re still so young.
Too young. Innocent. Incorruptible.
At first, anyway. It doesn’t last long.
Your first mission breaks you in – shatters your wrist and your confidence when you get a taste of real failure. It’s nothing like a bad grade on a test, nothing like the embarrassment of getting too drunk in public, but tangible, acrid, dark. The taste burns acidic on your tongue, a bitter contrast to those sweet childhood dreams you’ve been chasing since you were a little girl.
Cotton candy justice.
Now you’re in limbo, drifting away with the chilly spring breeze. The stars shine brightly overhead, and you stare up at them, dazed and confused and no longer sure of your place in the world.
There’s the Southern Cross. How pretty. How unfamiliar.
What country are you in again?
Bucky swears low and rough over comms, but you hear his voice sound from a few yards away, too. You don’t bother to turn your head because he’s already at your side, kneeling down beside you, snapping his fingers in front of your sight line. “Come on. Hey. Look at me.”
Unfocused. Unresponsive.
The moon’s full tonight and so, so bright. You just can’t look away.
“Shit,” he swears again, a little louder this time. “Agent down. Conscious but unresponsive.” A brief pause as he checks for a pulse on the dead body at your feet. “She already took out our target.”
“Looks like the new girl’s got some skills,” comes Sam’s wry joke crackling in your earpiece. “Headed your way with evac.”
You want to laugh, but all you can focus on is the coppery tang of blood in your nostrils. It’s not yours. You shot the target of this mission at point blank, but not before he snapped your wrist like a twig trying to wrestle your handgun from you. Not before two accidental discharges very nearly cut through your abdomen. Not before he slammed you to the ground – slammed the back of your head into the pavement.
The memory makes you shiver. Or maybe it’s the breeze.
Bucky’s hand comes to rest on the side of your face, then, to offer some semblance of warmth, and your eyelids flutter shut. He feels good. He feels warm.
“Hurry up,” Bucky orders, but he sounds a little more distant, now. “She’s in rough shape.”
Sam says something else on comms, and you don’t quite understand the words anymore. They sound blurry, almost like you’re underwater.
You’re drifting along, drifting away—
Until Bucky jars you awake with a startling pat to your cheek.
“Hey.” Sharp words draw you back into the present, but they hold none of the bite he uses when addressing Sam. “I need you to stay awake for me.”
A groan bubbles forth from your lips when you somehow manage to pry your eyelids open again. It’s probably the hardest thing you’ve ever done. Your entire body is begging for you to sleep, to rest, to never wake up again.
“Oh, sweetheart, I know,” Bucky murmurs, voice soft with sympathy, smoothing his thumb over your cheekbone. “I know you’re tired. Does anything hurt?”
You mumble something indecipherable; it’s meant to be a ‘no,’ but that’s not how it comes out. Pupils dilate further over half-lidded eyes as you stare up into sudden blackness.
What happened to the stars? What happened to the moon?
With a grunt, you try to move— try to push yourself up in a panic.
Something’s wrong. What happened to the sky?
A whimper escapes your throat when you put pressure on your broken wrist, but Bucky’s quick to put a stop to any unnecessary movements.
“You’re okay,” he soothes, easing you back down onto the ground and the cold, coarse gravel digs uncomfortably into your back. “You’re doing great. Just stay still, okay?”
“I can’t—” Things are starting to feel a little less blurry, now. “The stars—”
A gasp for air. A stuttered breath.
Panic.
“Breathe,” Bucky reminds you, but when your breathing only goes shallower, he adds gently, “Here. With me.”
His deep breath prompts your own, and after a couple of seconds, he exhales. You can’t help but follow suit, because his presence just commands you to listen. Gentle authority. Another breath and you follow along again, and again, until you’re not hyperventilating anymore.
You don’t know how long it takes, but it’s like magic.
Only when you’re sufficiently calmed down does he try for an answer. “What about the stars?”
You’d almost forgotten.
So you blink your eyes open again in search of the night sky, but everything’s still dark.
Panic starts to set in again, and in a fit of desperation, you reach your hand out for something, anything tangible to grasp onto. It’s the one with unshattered bones and unshattered hope, extending towards the sky like you can just turn the lights back on with a switch on the wall.
You can’t. It hurts.
Another breath. In. Out.
It’s not so calming this time.
Bucky takes that same hand into his and brings it to his chest, where you can feel his steady heartbeat under your palm. It’s soothing. It’s grounding.
It’s not enough.
“I can’t see,” you finally manage in a delicate rasp. “I can’t see anything.”
Bucky’s grip tightens just slightly, and then he’s on comms again. “Damn it, Wilson, still waiting on that evac—”
“Am I— Am I dying?” you ask quietly, and you hear the sound of your own voice in your ear echo through Bucky’s open mic. You don’t sound like yourself at all, but fragile, scared, broken. Like a child. Like a little girl, and that’s exactly how you feel. A sob finally escapes. “I’m— I’m scared, Mr. Barnes—”
“You’re gonna be just fine,” he reassures you, gently, leaning forward to cup your cheek with his free hand. “You’ve got a concussion. Can you remember your training?”
Think back to the Academy.
Thinking makes your head hurt, though, and you wince.
Vision loss is a symptom. Memory loss. Drowsiness. Headache.
You let out another whimper, then, as the splitting pain finally makes an appearance; it spreads like wildfire from the back of your head through the rest of your skull, a searing headache that makes your wrist feel like nothing in comparison. Even the memory stings.
Comms crackles to life again – Sam’s just a couple minutes out, now. “Keep her comfortable,” he instructs. No jokes this time.
As if you could be comfortable—
“Screw you,” you groan in agony, but Bucky’s words echo back: You’re gonna be just fine.
“Let me have a look, okay?”
Bucky’s voice is still so soothing, almost like a velvet blanket lulling you to sleep, and you can’t help but make a sound in the affirmative. He’ll take care of you. It hurts, but you’re not alone.
That’s when he releases you to gently palpate your scalp. It hurts to move, and your arm goes limp without his support; your fingers quickly ball in the fabric of his shirt to keep your hand where it belongs. And then they tighten further, when he locates the very obvious goose egg at the back of your skull.
“There it is,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, but he follows it with, “Don’t worry. We’ll get you out of here soon.”
“But it hurts—”
“I know.” He slowly starts to stroke your hair, meant to distract, to comfort, and it’s effective. “The adrenaline’s worn off, honey. It’s gonna hurt.”
It does feel nice, having him look after you like this – having a more experienced agent take care of you. If you weren’t so completely fucked up right now, you’d be mortified. It’s your first mission, for one, and for two, you barely know him. Hell, you still call him Mr. Barnes, and here he is, saying honey and sweetheart to make you feel a little better.
You can’t deny that it’s working when you find yourself leaning into his touch. It still hurts, but this is... tolerable. It might even be nice.
Just a little.
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you mumble.
He stills for a moment, but at your insistent tug on his shirt, he continues to stroke your hair – and you sigh.
“Oh... That feels nice.”
It’s a good distraction from the awful pain, too.
“Must not be hurting too bad anymore if you’re making jokes,” he comments after a beat, but he doesn’t stop again. Instead, the next little while passes in near-silence – a pained whine here, a comforting, “shh,” there, until your evac finally arrives.
“What the hell, man,” Sam says in annoyance as he straps you down to a board. “’Rough shape’ my ass. She looks like she got hit by a train.”
“I can still hear you,” you chide, “and I think I look pretty good.”
Another joke, because they both know you can’t see.
Sam snorts. “That’s a good sense of humour, new girl. Don’t lose it.”
The straps stop coming, then, and you tense up in alarm when you don’t know what’s happening – at least until Bucky speaks softly into your ear, “You’re gonna have to let me go now, sweetheart.”
It’s whisper-soft – secretive, almost – and you realize, then, that you’re still holding onto his shirt. You’re too young, too green, so much that you’re holding onto him like a lifeline.
That’s when the mortification sets in.
Your grip immediately goes slack, and the heat rushing to your face spurs on an even worse headache as the two of them load you onto the Quinjet. The only thing that keeps you awake this time is the stupid banter between them – but knowing Bucky is there is what makes you feel like everything’s going to be alright.
Part Two
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Burnt Toast:
Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Angst.
Word Count: 4,226
Characters: Polly Gray + The Shelby Siblings x Shelby!Sister Reader
Requested: Yes
Requested by: @atjafshelby, I hope you like it love!
Summary: After seeing her family turn to a life of crime, one incident causes Y/N to finally leave Small Heath in a desperate attempt to rid herself of the Shelby name. But when the family makes a sudden appearance after years of no contact, she soon realizes she’s not the only one with news to bear.
“Kids! Breakfast is ready!” Shouted Y/N from the kitchen, the smell of toast and crackling bacon snaking it’s way through the two story town house in the middle of suburban Manhattan. The sight of the meal reminding her of home when she’d help cook, practicing her craft until she rarely made burnt toast. The voice of her aunt telling her how long to toast it so it would be perfect, even if the family eating it was far from so.
As she prepared the table, the scurrying of little feet pattering away on the floorboards filled the room as they sprinted down the lavish hall. Giggles erupting as two bright eyed girls climbed into their seats.
“Now girls, you both have to get ready quickly today alright? I have some errands to run.” Y/N said, placing a mug of coffee in front of herself. Heavy footsteps came trotting down the stairs as her husband, a man of status in the banking industry, waltzed into the room.
“Morning love. I have to go in early today. Are you sure you and the girls are okay?” He asked, adjusting his tie.
“Yes, I’m going to take them with me. I have some...personal matters to attend to.” She said, her tone dropping slightly as the girls played with their food.
“I know plenty of children back home who’d love to eat what you’re playing with, now stop it...” She said sternly, memories of her mother swatting her hand when she’d go to eat with her fingers instead of the silverware.
“Is it your family again?” He asked, brushing a stray hair from her face as he sat down next to her.
“Yes.” She said, taking a sip of her coffee as her hands shook, the anxiety of ever seeing them again gnawing at her brain.
It seemed like only yesterday that it happened. Her younger brothers running out of the old shop in Small Heath to go on a another mission after their fathers business had been left on their shoulders after the war. The sight later that night making her swear off violence all-together.
Her younger brothers had a knack for messing with the wrong people, even before the war changed them. John was the feisty one, always rough-housing with the boys and bullies on the streets, always pestering her and Ada as they chased rats through town. “I’m trying to help you defend yourself sis! Don’t be such a baby!” He’d say after tackling her to the ground where she’d cry and hesitate to fight back, Ada always punching him in the shoulder to stop as their aunt Polly would come running out of the house with the Devil in her eyes.
“You’re too sweet for your own good, Y/N. Too sweet to be a Shelby.” Polly would say while bandaging any cuts or scrapes.
“You sure as hell didn’t get it from your father...” She’d say, looking at the oldest Shelby girl with a mixture of awe and pity. Y/N resembled her mother more often than not, her temper only shining through in certain situations. But she never thought she’d lose it like she did that night.
It was the night of her first real date, Polly helping brush her hair as she flipped through an old book she’d found in their house.
"That Tommy’s?” Polly would ask, looking at the cover to see a horse running wild in a field.
“Yeah.” She’d say, wishing she could be free like the horse.
“Where are you meeting this young man, Y/N?” Polly asked after a moment of silence.
“The pub down the road.” She said shortly. She remembered Polly’s grip on her hair tightening at the mention of it.
“Ow! What is it?” She asked yanking herself free and turning to look at her aunt.
“D-don’t go. Please don’t.” She said, a fearful look in her eyes.
“Why? Arthur, Tommy, and John get to go anywhere in town and I can’t?!” She said, angrily putting her hair up herself and adjusting her dress.
“It’s not safe...” Polly said, walking down the hall.
“Right...so you want to lecture me on what’s safe because I’m so nice aye? What do you fucking see in me anyway?” She asked loudly. She never really raised her voice to Polly, fearing her to a slight degree. But as her younger brothers went out on business more often, she was practically shoved away, only being able to see Ada and Finn even though she was the oldest.
Polly’s eyes welled up with tears as she spoke.
“I see hope for this god-forsaken family. You have more control over yourself than I care to admit and I can’t bare to see you squander it all away by becoming one of them. You should live for yourself, at least then one of us in this family would be doing something good for a change.” She said, sauntering off into the kitchen.
“Tommy’s planning something isn’t he? That’s why you don’t want me to go on the date.” She said, following her into the kitchen with tears in her eyes. Even if she was older than Arthur by two years, he and the rest of them never stopped being over-protective.
“Yes.” Was all Polly said before Y/N ran out the door. If she wanted her to live for herself then she was going to do as she pleased. She was tired of being seen as some family secret, some mystery sibling that was different. She never liked the violence she grew up in but was that such a crime? To know how to not hurt people? To be able to know when to call it quits? These were thoughts she still struggled with as she looked at her two little girls getting up from the table and racing up the stairs. Their hair wild and smiles a mile long. Carefree like she always dreamed of being, and like most of her aunts family always claimed to be.
“I want you girls ready in 10 minutes!” Y/N yelled as the girls moved about upstairs, her husbands voice breaking her from her thoughts.
“Well I’m off love. I’ll see you all at my lunch break.” He said, kissing her goodbye and heading off to his ordinary job. Despite him being successful and full of money himself, she couldn’t shake the fact that they led very different lives before they met. He’d go off to college while she stayed and helped Polly with Finn, and Ada occasionally staying to help as she was always wanting to be out and about. While he grew up with a silver spoon, she grew up with rusted broken ones. She couldn’t for the life her know why he chose her, maybe it was luck? But nevertheless they worked out together and she was grateful no matter how many times her past haunted her.
As she cleaned up the kitchen, she fell back onto the memories from years ago. Her heart still aching like it was yesterday.
Remembering herself sprinting towards the pub where her new date had agreed to meet her, seeing a rowdy group of men near the entrance. The sharp sound of bottles breaking and slurs being spewed as she warily made her way over. Her eyes landed on her date and her stomach dropped. Arthur was holding him by the neck as Tommy pulled off his cap, slashing the mans face open in one fell swoop.
Y/N’s screams soon pierced the air as she saw him fall limp to the ground, Tommy finishing him off with a harsh twist of his neck.
The blinders all looked up to see their older sister just mere feet away from their mess. Without thinking, she ran over to the man she had grown to know, his face almost unrecognizable after what they’d done to him. As she cradled him, her eyes blurred with tears as her brothers stood in silence, the rain washing the mans blood off Tommy and Arthur’s hands as they waited for her to speak.
“Tommy...” She said, seeing red as she started at the man she once knew, lying dead on the cold pavement.
Her brother walked over, a tired look in his eyes as he crouched down to her level and put his cap back on.
“We had to do it Y/N...” He said, trying to reach for her hand.
Without warning she slapped him across the face with all the strength she could muster. Her hand stinging with the impact.
Polly came running in the distance, stopping near John who’d been holding his rifle as he sat against the wall of the pub.
As she got up, she wiped the blood on her clothes as she stared down her brother. A red handprint forming on his cheek as she neared him. With one hand she took his arm and with the other she grabbed Arthur’s hand, leading them near Polly and John.
“I knew him you know. How was he so bad that you had to kill him? Why was this part of your fucking plan?!” She yelled as they all looked at her with sorry expressions.
“He was working with Kimber’s men. Remember him?” John asked.
She got closer to John as she spoke, her arms folded in frustration.
“No John. I don’t remember. I wasn’t part of the family meetings...remember that?” She asked, knowing they always kept her, Ada, and little Finn in the dark ‘for their safety.’
“He was bad Y/N...” Tommy said, sticking a cigarette in his mouth.
“Like you all are any better. You didn’t even know him!” She shouted.
“Y/N love, please calm down. We had leads on him. He was trying to get with ya in order to get to us.” Arthur said.
“No...he wouldn’t.” She said, shaking her head as her tears fell.
“He did. Not everyone has a good heart like yours alright?” Tommy said, lighting a cigarette.
“You know what? Fuck the lot of you!” She yelled, her eyes boring into Tommy’s specifically.
“I can’t even look at you all anymore. You took away my one shot at meeting someone that wasn’t associated with this family and you all ruined it. You all ruined everything I’ve ever tried to do and here I am, the oldest fucking Shelby and I can’t even leave me own house.” She said, giving a side eye to Polly. As she spoke she remembered her aunts words, her eyes tearing up as she spat out her frantic goodbyes.
“You know what? I’m listening to what you said Pol. I’m going to go live for myself and I don’t want any of you to come for me. I can’t stand to be around any of ya. Goodbye.” She said, walking through the familiar dark streets for what felt like the last time.
“Mum? We’re ready!” She heard her oldest yell from the front door, ripping her from her thoughts.
“Alright, c’mere you.” She said, swooping her youngest up in her arms and walking out the door. As she walked with her oldest hand in hand they noticed the rain falling slightly as the city life bustled around them.
“I wish daddy didn’t take the car. He’ll be at his lunch break before we get there.” The oldest girl said, her white dress flowing in the wind.
“We’re going right up to the bank. He’ll be there. I promise.” She said, her nerves getting to her as they entered the tall building.
“I got a call about a check being sent from Polly Gray?” She asked the teller.
“Ah yes! Here you are. She also left a note.” She said, handing her the envelope.
Y/N’s eyes widened at the figures on the check, having to clutch the desk for support.
“Jesus fucking christ.” She said quietly.
“Jesus fuckin cwist!” Her youngest mumbled excitedly.
“Hey! We don’t say that.” She said smirking down at the little girl.
“Darling! Didn’t expect you to be here so early!” Her husband said as he stepped out of his office.
“This was uh...one of the errands. Can we go outside for a moment?” She asked.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, looking at her with concern.
“Oh um...it seems me aunt gave us a check for...$100,000.” She said.
“My god...you’re kidding. How did they get that kind of money?” He asked, even though they were well-off in New York it was still a shock, especially since the shop back home was far from successful all those years ago.
“Oh...you don’t want to know.” She said, her eyes scanning over the letter.
“Dear Y/N,
I know you don’t want to hear from any of us especially after so long, but we wanted to let you know we’re planning a visit to New York. We have some business to take care of and Tommy saw it best to come there personally. We’d love to meet up upon our arrival if you’d like. We have some unfortunate matters we’d like to discuss. In the meantime though, I wanted to gift you this check, seeing as we’ve come into more than enough good fortune over the years.
With love,
Aunt Pol”
“I have to get to a phone. Watch the girls please? I’ll be back.” She said, running inside the bank.
“What’s mummy doing?” Their oldest asked.
“Calling her family.” He said, holding her hand.
“She has a family? Like us but somewhere else?” She asked.
“Yeah...” He said, not knowing much about them as well. She’d kept that part of her life a secret for a while, but she’d let a few things slip every now and then, and she always got a check from Polly despite her refusing her help, but they never got one for this much before.
“Shelby Company Limited.” The woman said over the phone.
“Yes, this is Y/N...Y/N Johnson-I mean...Shelby. Y/N Shelby....is Polly there?”
“I’m sorry miss. The family has left for America, they’re expected in New York at noon.” She said.
“Alright, thank you.” She said, her watch ticked towards noon at a fast pace, knowing they’d be arriving soon.
“Girls were taking a trip. We uh...have to meet some of my family.” She said rushing out of the bank, scooping their youngest up in her arms with the others following.
“We need to get to customs, now.” She said, hurrying towards her husbands car.
Within the next 30 minutes they’d scrambled to get there, seeing the passengers get off the ship in groups. Her heart sped up as she saw her family, more dressed up now than before, but still the same tired features give or take Finn growing up before her eyes.
“Stay here you three. It’s going to be a moment.” She said, taking a shaky breath as she walked towards them.
“Y/N? Is that you?” She heard Polly call out. She stood frozen as they walked to her, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Hello Polly.” She said with a small smile, her tears plummeting to the ground as she gave her a warm hug.
“Oi! Is that really you?! Look at ya!” Arthur said with a smile.
“Yeah it’s me. Same old Y/N.” She said, wiping her tears as her brother Tommy stared at her.
“Cat got your tongue brother?” She asked, he gave her a hug but it was half-hearted at best.
“Right...so what are you lot doing here aye? Why’d you send us all that money?” She asked looking at them, Tommy’s eyes were more dead than all those years ago. She couldn’t shake the feeling something had happened as Polly spoke.
“Can we talk about this somewhere private at least? We just got here love...” Polly said.
Y/N sighed as she turned to her little family, the ring on her finger glinting in the sun as she nodded.
“Of course...follow me. I uh, have some people I want you to meet.” She said.
“Y/N...” Polly said in a shocked whisper as she saw the two girls and her husband standing there looking at them with smiles on their faces.
“This is my husband. His name is Charles Johnson, he’s a banker in Manhattan. And these are our girls. Jane is 7, Polly is 3.” She said, picking the little girl up as she giggled and waved at them.
“You...you never told us you’d met someone. Never told us you’d gotten married...Never told us you had children...” Polly said, waving at the girls.
“Well the street goes both ways. Didn’t know you got married aye Tom...” She said nodding to him, he lit a cigarette as they walked ahead. The tension growing in the air as she nervously took her husbands hand.
“It’s complicated, but yes I did.” He said shortly, the smoke wafting through the air.
“No smoking...please.” She said, her girls looking curiously at the man with piercing blue eyes.
“You serious?” He asked.
“Yes, the girls don’t like it. You’re such a grump though love. You’ve turned into an old man, older than Arthur even. Jesus.” She said, none the wiser to what they’d all been through over the years. Tommy just nodded with a slight smirk, knowing his past couple years would’ve destroyed her.
As the Shelby’s made small talk with the little girls, Charles got them a ride to their house, the bustling city taking them a little bit by surprise.
“I don’t know how you live here. It’s hectic.” Polly said, sitting in a small armchair in their living room.
“Well you wanted me to live my life for me Pol. I came here and I loved it. Never saw a reason to move.” She said, pouring her a glass of wine.
“Anyone want a drink?” She asked as her worse-for-wear brothers sat around.
“Now there’s our sister. You got whiskey?” Arthur asked.
“Did you think I left all of Birmingham behind? Of course I do.” She said, pouring out a couple glasses and handing them out. Her husband taking one and giving her a small peck on the cheek, Tommy staring him down for a moment before she came to him with a glass.
“What kind?” Tommy asked before drinking it.
“Irish...what else would it be? You taught me that.” She said with a smirk.
“Right...” He said, fixing his golden glasses.
“So tell me, what’s life been like here? It seems...grand.” Polly said looking around the place as the girls ran around giggling.
“Jane! Polly! No running in the house...go out to the courtyard.” She said, taking a sip of her whiskey.
“You named the little one Polly? I’m touched.” She said, sipping her wine.
Y/N sighed before she spoke, her husband sitting near her on the large sofa, holding her hand as he knew she had some things to get off her chest.
“Look...I was....angry. I was angry at the world when I left and...I’ve held onto that for so long it’s eaten me up. I know you all don’t care for me now, hell I wasn’t invited to anything anyways, but I did the same. I did this for me. And I’m happy here. I’m happy with my children. I named her Polly because even though we wanted to rip each other’s throats out some days, you were the one that helped me realize who I wanted to be. You helped raise me and I couldn’t not name her after someone I loved dearly.” She said, the room falling silent.
“You want us to forgive you?” Tommy asked.
“No. Honestly Tommy I’m still trying to forgive you. It was because of you all that I watched you kill him. I moved here so you’d never take people away from me again, but no I’m not looking for forgiveness or anything, I just want it behind us.” She said finishing off her whiskey.
“That was for your protection, love. You can understand that now at least, since you have your own children now.” Polly said, clasping her hand over hers.
“I can. But I wouldn’t kill someone. That’s how we’re different. I’ve told Charles about it, because I’ve always been the nice one. He may think otherwise though.” She said smirking at her husband.
“But, I’ve tried to move on. I just want you all to know I’m happy and I’m honestly not that hurt by it anymore. I’m just plagued with the memories that’s all.” She said.
“What about back home? How’s Ada? I’m assuming she’s with her kid...Karl right?” She asked, trying to change the subject.
“Yes. She has another on the way as well. Different father. Deceased though.”
“That’s too bad, I know she’s probably torn up, the poor thing. Give her a hug for me will ya? God I haven’t seen her in so long.” She said and Polly nodded.
“What about John? Where’s the cheeky bastard at anyway?” She asked. Polly teared up as Tommy held her hand, which he never did unless it was something important.
“He....he got shot. One of the mafias with a vendetta against us got him...it was recent enough that we figured we’d come to tell you.” He said.
“No.” She said, getting up quickly.
“No...no I-I said the most hateful things the last time I saw him. He can’t be...” She said as tears poured down her face.
“Hey....shh it’s alright darling.” Her husband said attempting to comfort her as she clung to him, her tears staining his expensive suit as Arthur and the rest looked away, their hearts growing heavy after re-hashing the news.
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner. We couldn’t get to you in time for the funeral though, love.” Polly said, walking over.
“I have to sit down.” She said, her face paling as she sat on the sofa.
Her hands shook as she wiped her tears away. Polly kissed her forehead as she walked outside, observing the little girls as they played in the garden to keep from breaking down as well.
As Y/N settled down, she took another shot of whiskey, wincing at the burn of it going down. Since having her kids and working, she didn’t have as much time to drink, at least not like they did back home.
“I should’ve came back sooner...I-I should’ve written you all more often.” She said.
“Y/N that wouldn’t have changed much. We’re just happy you’re happy alright love?” Arthur said, patting her on the back.
“Yeah...” She said.
“Say...I know you all are tired. Would you all care to stay? We have enough room...” Charles asked as Polly walked in with the girls.
“Mum! Who that?” Little Polly asked in her sweet voice.
“Hello! Oh you silly girls! I hope you loved meeting Polly! These are your uncles, Arthur, Tommy, and Finn.” She said wiping her tears away as they came in, letting them walk over to them. Tommy smiled at them and put on his best kind expression, knowing how impressionable kids were.
“So uhm...Tommy do you have kids?” Y/N asked, circling back to the ring on his finger and trying to lighten the conversation.
“Yeah. I have a boy name Charlie, and a girl named Ruby. Charlie’s mum was uh...shot...by the mafia, Lizzie is well, she’s working at the office and helping with little Ruby.” He said.
“Shot! Jesus fuckin cwist!” Little Polly squealed out.
Y/N’s mouth dropped as she picked her up. Arthur and eventually everyone erupted in laughter.
“We do not say that Polly! Don’t repeat bad words!” Y/N scolded her, trying to hold back her own laugh in the process.
“I’m sorry about your first wife Tom...I’m also sorry little Polly over here has the mouth of a sailor.” She said playfully eyeing her daughter and giving her brother a pat on the shoulder.
“It’s alright love. Things happen aye?” He said, his heart still hurting after the loss, but warming at the sight of his little happy and not so nicely-mouthed nieces.
“Maybe we can visit the rest of the family sometime? I’m sure we can arrange that.” She asked looking at her husband.
“Of course! We’d um...we’d like that. Very much.” Polly said a genuine smile on her face as she watched her niece with her children.
“I’m so glad you’re doing well for yourself dear. Truly. We all are, and if we haven’t said it yet, welcome to the family Charles.” Polly said, shaking his hand.
“My offer still stands though by the way...” Charles said after a moment.
“What’s that aye?” Tommy asked, finally loosening up a bit.
“You all can stay here. You all aren’t the only ones with big houses you know. You’re family after all.” Y/N said.
“Well it’s not like we have anywhere else to go. What to do you say?” Polly asked, looking at Tommy. He smirked a bit before answering, Y/N could see the conditions he’d have with their stay floating around in his head.
“Alright...As long as we get to have the toast you always made. I’ve hired many a housemaid and none of them could make it like you do, they always burn it up.” He said.
She chuckled at the memory, always making a bunch of it in the mornings before they’d all go running off in the streets.
“Deal.” She said, giving him a small smile, knowing that even after all the years and all the losses, she knew she could never fully be away from family.
#atjafshelby#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagines#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders oneshots#thomas shelby#arthur shelby#john shelby#ada shelby#ada thorne#finn shelby#polly gray#michael gray#esme lee#esme shelby#shelby!sister#shelby!sister reader
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Summary: In a quiet moment, Gajeel and Freed see each other in a way they'd never considered before. Attraction hits them with sudden fury, and both men don't know what to do. So, what else can be done but going to their friends? And, their friends' unexpected partners, apparently.
Notes: Here's the final submission for @thunderandlightningstriketwice's Thunder Legion Rare Pair week. It's been such a fun event to write for, and if it goes ahead again I'll definitely write for it (hopefully on time). For the final piece, I've given Freed, Evergreen and Bickslow a rare pair. I hope you all enjoy it.
Links: FFN, Ao3, Other Event Fics
Dealing With Something New
Under the shining lights of the Magnolia New Years fireworks display, Gajeel and Freed finally saw each other.
Surrounded by the beautiful explosions made to look like an array of mythical creatures, they happened to look towards one another. They were two men who had no real connections other than their guild, where they'd shared a few missions over the past year, and so it simply should have been a moment that went unnoticed. But it didn't go unnoticed, nor was it forgotten. Because the world seemed to freeze around them both.
Gajeel had felt his breath catch in his throat. The light that bounced off of Freed's pale skin made him look otherworldly, and the quietly contented expression was something he'd never seen on the man before. He'd always looked so… wound up. Like the world relied on him keeping stern and in charge.
But in that moment, he was relaxed. He was beautiful.
He couldn't look away from Freed; it was like he was trapped in the man. He knew he was gaping but he didn't care. Freed's face, which Gajeel had seen hundreds of times, had suddenly become him. His very essence was painted across his features, and it was undeniably beautiful.
Freed was no better. He glanced up to see why Gajeel was looking at him and, if he were prone to exaggeration, he might say his heart had skipped a beat. It became suddenly obvious that he'd never actually looked at Gajeel before. Not really.
His eyes were magnificent, a shade of red that should look completely unnatural on a persons face and yet Freed couldn't think of anything that would suit him more. His hair, which had been pulled into a high ponytail for the event, had fought loose of it's bounds and framed his face in small, wiry strands. The studs of metal that decorated his face reflected the light of the fireworks and they were so utterly right on him that Freed found himself at a loss for words. He hadn't been like that in a long time.
Gajeel was exactly how he should be. Jagged, roughened up, harsh around the edges. He embraced himself, allowed himself to be obvious, and was proud of his hardships. He wore his life on his sleeve, and was magnificent while doing so.
For a moment, the only thing the two men could do was gape, before they both looked away quickly.
Immediately, they both began to panic.
——
"Nerd, help me," Gajeel said as he stormed into Levy's room in the guild hall dormitories. "Because I'm freaking the fuck out right now."
Gajeel was lucky that his spiral into emotional hell coincided with the building's landlady being out of town, because it had been easy to storm into the room he knew Levy stayed in - he'd had to take her back here on more than one occasion when she'd overexerted herself during their training - and walk right in without any trouble. He would have to tell her to lock her damn door sometime, but at least in that moment her oversight was useful.
Levy seemed shaken at Gajeel's sudden appearance and her cheeks were a flaring red, which was understandable but annoying. It wasn't like he had walked in on her doing something weird! She was in bed, reading a book. Hardly anything to be embarrassed by.
Anyway, not important, because Gajeel was spiralling.
"You know about the Knight, right," Gajeel was speaking again before Levy could complain. "Freed, the rune guy, yeah. He's a dick, right? You gotta tell me that he's a dick right now. A real dick. Like, killing animals for fun. Goes to museums and throws oil on the paintings just to fuck them up. That kinda dick-ness. I need you to tell me that right now."
"No," Levy exclaimed, placing her book down on the covers with frustration. "Get out of my bedroom!"
"But he might be, right?" Gajeel insisted. "He might be a jackass, right? I mean, he tried to take over the guild once, that's kinda dickish."
"So did you," Levy deadpanned. "Get out of my room, Gajeel."
"I didn't try and take it over, I was part of a- it doesn't fucking matter," Gajeel groaned in frustation, pacing around the room. He noticed Levy tense a little as he neared the door to her private bathroom, but didn't pay any mind to it. He had bigger problems. "I've listened to your crap for hours, help me with mine. Tell me that Freed Justine is an irredeemable monster that I shouldn't go near him again."
"I'm not going to lie about my friend," Levy stated. Fuck, they were friends? That meant he was at least tolerable.
"Then don't lie, tell me all the things he does that pisses you off," Gajeel demanded.
This was good, Levy had never held back about all the things about him that made her angry, now it was time for her to do it about her friendship with Freed. That would give him a nice long list of reasons why he should forget that momentary blip where he thought Freed was the most important and perfect man that he'd ever set eyes on. Once he knew one bad thing about that man - that Gajeel wasn't guilty of himself - then he could fuel a hatred and that moment could be buried and forgotten. Then, everything would be good and this weird feeling in his stomach could go away.
Fine, it was a shitty plan. But it was all he had right now so fuck it!
"Fine," Levy sighed. "He's rude. Ill mannered. Constantly disregarding my wishes," Gajeel nodded. This was all good; unexpected, but good. "Has no sense of personal boundaries, I often want to kill him. Oh, wait. Of course. That's you I'm thinking about."
That wasn't helpful.
"That's not helpful," Gajeel claimed.
"Get out of my room!" She yelled.
"Why should I, what am I stopping you from doing? Reading the same book for the millionth time," Gajeel crossed his arms, noticed that Levy's eyes flickered to the bathroom door again, but he was too amped up to care. "Don't know why the hell you read anything more than once. Words don't change each time."
"You see more of what the author was telling you," Levy exclaimed, annoyed. "Which, by the way, is something Freed will no doubt do with his own books. There, something about him you won't like. Now, you can go."
Images of Freed reading in his own bed, which was probably luxurious and ladened with pillows, hit Gajeel. What would it be like to curl up next to him, rest his head on his shoulder and listen to him reading some old novel that was originally written in a language that was long dead now. No. No! God dammit!
"Just fucking help me nerd!" Gajeel ordered, pacing again.
"Help you with what?" Levy demanded, equally frustrated. "And why are you so interested in Freed suddenly?"
"Something happened with him and I don't know what the hell to do about it," Gajeel yelled back, veins on fire. Why couldn't she figure things out faster, dammit.
"Something happened with you and Freed," She seemed joyful, and Gajeel scowled. "Did you kiss him? Did he kiss you?"
"No," Gajeel scoffed. "Nobody got kissed."
"Did you do something… other than kissing," She frowned. "Because I don't really want to think about that."
"Nothing fucking happened. Not like that," Gajeel growled, before averting his gaze and going a little red. "We just kinda, I dunno, looked at each other. When the fireworks were going off. Felt weird. Want it to stop."
"You want what to stop?" Levy asked.
"The weird fucking feeling, obviiously," Gajeel explained. Gods, he thought she was smart!
"Sorry sorry, let me just catch up," Levy made a weird gesture with her hands, and Gajeel rolled his eyes. Couldn't she just hurry the hell up. "So you and Freed looked at each other during the fireworks display and you felt 'weird.' You've been feeling weird since then, which was four days ago. And you've come here asking me to tell you every bad thing I can think of about him because you think that somehow that will stop you from feeling weird."
"Congratulations, you've figured it out," Gajeel drolled, and a pillow was thrown at him, which he caught. "So, tell me all the fucked up shit about him so I can sleep again."
"You're losing sleep over this?" Levy seemed amused. Gajeel glared. "I think I can help you with this, but not in a way that you're going to like. Is that okay?" Gajeel continued to glare. "I think you need to know what the weird feeling is, so you can decide what to do about it. Do you think that's a good idea?"
"If you're gonna drip feed me shit so I come to my own conclusion, I'm gonna break your glasses for wasting my time," Gajeel threatened, nodding to the glasses on the bedside table.
Since when did she have non-magical glasses?
"Fine, if you want me to rip the bandaid off, I'll do it," Levy seemed way too smug. Her glasses were definitely getting broken if she didn't hurry the hell up. "Sounds an awful lot like love at first sight to me."
No. No it didn't.
"Well yer fucking wrong, aint ya," He yelled before he could even consider the claim. "Because I don't fall in love with people, and it ain't the first time I've seen him."
"The gentleman doth protest too much methinks," Levy laughed.
"Who the fuck even speaks like that?" Gajeel demanded.
At that Levy's eyes flickered to the bathroom door yet again, and Gajeel felt his patience snap. He was going through something and his best friend - fuck, what an annoying term - was distracted by whatever was on the other side of the door. He was meant to be her priority right now, and he was going to make sure that stayed true. He walked to the door and yanked it open, blinking at the sight that befell him.
Evergreen was crouching, with a glass pressed to her ear. No doubt, had he not opened the door, the glass would have been pushed up against it. She was wearing the most gaudy, flowery nightgown Gajeel had ever been forced to look at. Her hair was untied and she looked ready to sleep. She looked weird without her glasses… glasses which were on the bedside table.
A lot of things clicked into place. Ew.
"You're screwing Levy?" He demanded, and Evergreen stood up straight. She seemed ready for a challenge.
"We're seeing each other. It's uncouth to say it's just physical," She said, without an ounce of shame. Gajeel supposed she didn't have any reason to be shameful. "I know that me being with your friend won't cause a problem. Not when you consider what you want to do with my friend."
"You heard that?" Gajeel growled.
"No, I had the glass to my ear because it's a form of Yoga," Evergreen snarked, pushing Gajeel to the side so she could walk to the bed. She climbed under the covers and nestled into Levy's side. Levy smiled, wrapping her left arm around Evergreen's right. How cozy they looked… "So, now that you know I'm here, I'll be able to offer insight. You're grossly, madly in love with my best friend. What other issues do you have?"
"I am not in love with him," Gajeel argued.
"You're losing sleep over how much you love him," Evergreen supplied, almost joyously.
"You thought the best way to deal with the issue was to storm in here and demand his flaws," Levy continued.
"And I saw you when you looked at him," Evergreen laughed. "It was like a puppy seeing an open meadow for the first time. So obvious."
"Are you fucking ganging up on me right now?" Gajeel demanded. Levy shook her head no, while Evergreen gladly nodded. "Fucks sake, are you gonna help me or not. How do I stop feeling like this?"
"Talk to him," Levy stated, sympathetically. "You're probably only feeling weird because there's a lot of unknowns right now, mainly that you don't know if he returns your feelings or not," Gajeel wanted to state that there weren't any feelings to return, but Levy kept talking. And she was looking at Evergreen as if she hung the moon. "That was how I was feeling before I spoke to you."
"Oh Tulip," Evergreen said, in a voice all loved up and unbefitting her personality. Gajeel wanted to vomit. "I'm so sorry for putting you through that. A thousand roses wouldn't make you understand my guilt."
"Maybe not," Levy smiled. "But every moment I get to share with you makes it all better."
"Then I'll make sure that I make every moment shared with you-"
"Hey!" Gajeel cut through their stupid exchange of annoyingness with a sharp word and two snaps of his fingers. The adoring expression on Evergreen's face fell into one of shock and anger, then settled onto a glare.
"Did you just click your fingers at me?" She demanded, voice belying her offence.
"Wouldn't have had to if you'd pay attention," Gajeel shrugged. "Came here for help, not to see you two focusing on unimportant shit."
"We're the ones focusing on unimportant shit?" Evergreen huffed out an incredulous laugh. "Fine, I'll help you then, I'll make this situation very easy. I forbid you from talking to Freed or ever starting anything with him."
"You forbid me?" Gajeel scoffed.
"I do. As Freed's best friend, it's my duty to keep him away from rude brutes, which you are," She crossed her arms, and caught his gaze in a challenging glare. "Though I don't think I'd even need to. You're clearly too much of a coward to talk to him about this whether you have my permission to or not. I doubt that'll change."
"Ain't a coward," Gajeel argued, crossing his arms.
"Then why are you here?" Evergreen asked. Gajeel spluttered for an answer, but Levy spoke first.
"You did ask me to tell you that he ruins priceless artwork for fun, just so you wouldn't be attracted to him anymore," She said, a little sheepishly. "That's not exactly the actions of someone who's brave enough to deal with a problem head on."
"I can deal with my problems head on, dammit," Gajeel argued. It wasn't a great argument.
"Then why are you here and not talking to Freed right now?" Evergreen asked, voice annoyingly self righteous. "Doesn't seem like you'll do anything other than whine about this entire situation. Pitiful really."
Gajeel scrambled for an argument against her claim, and when he couldn't come up with one, he turned around and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He growled when he heard Evergreen say 'Hm, men', but stormed onwards. He was determined now.
Freed had been in many situations before, a lot of them he would consider unusual. This was the most unusual situation he'd ever been in.
He was sitting at Bickslow's kitchen table, nursing a mug of tea, having just confessed that he had a sudden and overwhelming attraction to Gajeel Redfox. An attraction that was both romantic and physical, and had hit him out of nowhere. He rarely allowed himself to be so vulnerable, so speaking about his emotions was a struggle enough already, but the third person in the room made everything so much more unusual.
Gildarts Clive was there. Gildarts, who was apparently Bickslow's boyfriend. That was something Freed still didn't know how to process, and as such he'd decided to just accept it and hope the older man had some wisdom hidden behind his carefree, slightly perverse facade.
Honestly; Bickslow and Gildarts? How had that happened?
When he'd arrived at Bickslow's apartment in the evening, he had expected the man to be alone. So when Gildarts answered the door and welcomed him in, Freed had been more than a little shocked. Yes, Bickslow had stated multiple times that he and the older man had been 'doing it like bunnies' for a month now, but Freed had dismissed the claim as another one of Bickslow's exaggerations of a situation. Apparently he hadn't given his friend enough credit, because apparently they were not only sleeping together, but dating. Or maybe Gildarts just cooked a near gourmet looking, candle lit steak dinner for all the people he had hooked up with. It was so cosz looking Freed had found himself apologising for the interruption.
The fact that they'd both dismissed the statement immediately, claimed the more the merrier, and immediately started making him up a plate suggested maybe they did have some values in common. Freed was trying not to judge, but he really wanted to know how the hell this had happened.
"You know what those feelings mean, don't ya baby?" Bickslow asked once Freed had told them both everything. "You like him."
"That seems to be the most obvious answer," Freed nodded, grinding his teeth a little. "I don't wish to deny the evidence, but the force with which these emotions came to me seem very overwhelming. I don't know how much I can trust them."
"Doesn't mean they're wrong though," Gildarts shrugged. "You're a mage, you run off your instincts. If you were on a mission, approaching a creature that you had to kill, and something in your gut screamed at you that you couldn't do this alone, what would you do? Follow the feeling and employ another mage because your gut instinct is telling you something important, or risk fighting the thing alone because you haven't got enough evidence to say that your gut is leading you right."
"I'd follow my gut," Freed stated. Following your gut was something every mage did.
"Then do that," Gildarts shrugged. "Listen to what your instincts are saying."
"But this is a different situation to a mission," Freed tried to argue. "I'm familiar with danger, and as such my instinct would be making an informed decision. When it comes to random bouts of attraction, I'll be swinging in the dark no matter what. That's never a good idea."
"You think this is random?" Bickslow asked, and Freed frowned.
"What else would it be?"
"You've been doing missions with him all year," Bickslow shrugged. "After that first one you had to do together, you kept going back to each other. Before this year, you basically only did missions with the team, so obviously there's something about him that you liked from the start. Might have seemed platonic, but that doesn't mean something more hasn't been bubbling under the surface all this time," Bickslow looked at him with a patient smile. "You're not exactly known for being in tune with your feelings, Freed. Maybe everything you've not noticed just kinda… exploded all at once.
"That's a possibility," Freed nodded.
He and Gajeel had gotten remarkably close to each other over the past year. They had personalities that on the surface conflicted, but in reality complimented each other well. On the surface, their differences were noticeable, but they shared values and experiences and could offer support in ways nobody else could. Those were attributes that Freed found important in a man.
And Freed had never denied that Gajeel was good looking. Only an idiot would deny he was sexy, and he was more than handsome in his own way. Honestly, how Gajeel had never entered the Wizards I'd Like To Date list was a puzzle Freed couldn't figure out. It just made sense for him to be wanted by the masses.
Ah… Maybe these feelings weren't so sudden after all.
"Hey, I've never actually seen an 'oh' moment before," Bickslow laughed, and Freed snapped a look to him. Both he and Gildarts were looking at him, amused. "So, what are ya gonna do? Kiss him, right? Only makes sense."
"Of course not," Freed exclaimed. "I don't know if he is interested in men, let alone me in particular."
"He likes you," Bickslow said, and the words were so sure Freed quirked up a brow at him. Bickslow blushed a little before speaking again. "I maybe clocked how you were looking at each other when the fireworks were happening. Kinda had Peppe follow him around for the past few days. Apparently he can't stop grumbling about that 'fuckin pretty boy' when he's alone," Bickslow grinned. "He thinks you're pretty and can't keep you off his mind. That means he's crushing hard on you."
"That's a gross invasion of his privacy," Freed scolded.
"Already defending his honour?" GIldarts laughed. "Young love."
"I do not love him," Freed argued, and both men grinned at him. He hoped they both got food poisoning. "Attraction and love are worlds apart."
"But not for you~" Bickslow laughed.
"I do not love him," Freed tried to argue again, but the other men just kept grinning. "Let's say we both have an attraction to each other. What then? It's not like we can start dating. We're guildmates, if we were to split up then it would be uncomfortable for everyone. Even if we didn't, we hardly make sense as a couple. Not to people who don't know us well."
"Who cares?" Gildarts scoffed. "You think the two of us make sense to most people? Course not, we know that. But we also know we're a kickass couple so far, and we click damn well."
"The two of you are very different to me," Freed stated.
"Doesn't mean we don't feel the same way you do," Gildarts claimed. "You think I didn't have a 'fireworks moment' with Bix? I did. Maybe not as romantic, and maybe not as innocent as yours, but I had one," He looked to Bickslow, smiling. "The morning after the third time we hooked up, I woke up first and looked at you and I just… understood you. I knew who you were deep in my core. It felt like your identity belonged to me suddenly. Hadn't felt like that in a hell of a long time. And that's when I knew you were special to me."
"Then you cooked for me for the first time," Bickslow looked at Gildarts with an expression Freed had never seen before. It was filled with unfiltered affection. "And we spent the rest of the day in the bed, just talking about whatever shit came to mind. I never had a talk with a guy like that before. It was special."
"Yeah, it was," Gildarts grinned, leant over and kissed Bickslow for a slow moment. Freed felt a yearning hit of jealousy in his stomach.
"That's a very touching story," Freed admitted, because in a way, it was.
"Yeah, it is," Gildarts agreed. "And I only get to tell that story - and the only reason I'm here now - is because I grew some balls and decided I wasn't gonna run away from that gut instinct. I made a choice to stick around until the morning and try to make something more out of what we had. I knew it could get messy, but I knew it could be really good. That's what you gotta do. Make a choice if you wanna risk it."
"And you better make the right choice," Bickslow said, smiling. "Because you really looked like you loved him that night. And I wanna see you looking like that again some time. You deserve to look like that."
"I-" Freed began, a little overwhelmed. "I think you're right."
"You gonna talk to him then?" Bickslow asked, and Freed nodded, standing up. When Bickslow spoke again, he sounded giddy. "You gonna do it now?"
"I think so," Freed said. "Thank you both for the advice."
"You can thank us by letting us give the best man speech at the wedding," Bickslow grinned, before letting his smile become more genuine. "Go get him, tiger."
Freed smiled an equally honest smile, before leaving the apartment to find Gajeel.
——
They found each other by accident. Both of them were too high on their adrenaline to realise they didn't know where the other lived, meaning that the best chance they had of meeting was at the guildhall. It was hardly the best place to have a private conversation, but both men were determined now, so they would do what they needed to.
But, it seemed like it wasn't necessary.
Approaching the guildhall, both men had cut through a small park in Magnolia's shopping district. Just as Gajeel was walking over one of the scenic bridges, he saw Freed approaching under the lamplight. He almost didn't believe it was him, until Freed looked up, and Gajeel was hit by the very same shot of unfamiliar feelings that he'd felt during the fireworks. Before the adrenaline left him and he ran away from the situation, he jogged to catch Freed's attention. Freed picked up his walking pace, and they met in the middle of the bridge, looking at each other for a moment.
"Hey," Gajeel said, wanting to cut through the silence.
"Hello," Freed greeted, everything he had wanted to say leaving his mind.
They were both quiet for another beat, before speaking again, talking over one another.
"I think we need to talk-"
"I wanted to speak with you-"
They both stopped talking again. They were both red in the cheeks, a little from embarrassment and a little from the fact that they both wanted the same thing. They both wanted the same thing, and they both felt a glimmer of hope rising inside of them that what they wanted to talk about would be the same thing too. The entire situation seemed too perfect; it was almost as if it were fated to happen.
Unfortunately, neither man could speak. Gajeel had never been good with words, particularly when it mattered. His mind was swarming with the things he should say, but couldn't put into words. Freed, just as he had during the fireworks, found himself stumbling for words that couldn't come to him.
But, they suddenly both realised, words weren't needed.
They were mages: Fairy Tail maged. Actions always spoke louder than words.
Gajeel did what he's known he needed to do since the fireworks. Freed finally listened to what his instincts had been telling him to do for far too long. They stepped into each other's space. Gajeel placed a hand on the small of Freed's back, while Freed grabbed Gajeel by the back of his neck. They pulled into each other without words, and brought their lips together in a kiss.
There were no fireworks this time, but in their minds, hearts and souls, there was an explosion.
It was a fire that burned deep inside of them. It was a fire without origin, but both men knew that it would burn bright, strong, and wasn't going to die out.
#thunder legion rarepairs week#ftreboost#Freed x Gajeel#Freed Justine#Gajeel Redfox#Evergreen x Levy#levy mcgarden#evergreen fairy tail#Bickslow x Gildarts#bickslow#fairy tail gildarts#canon divergence#Fairy Tail#Fanfic#Writing#One Shot#Word Count: 4.5k
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The Red Guard and the Snow Angel
Stormy Lands concept art
The Thunder War Spirit’s seal concept art
Gavin and the thunder war spirit
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
On the stormy lands.
Gavin : It's been raining for days. I just want to see a fucking fire now. And feel dry again.
Connor : The man from Braverive said there was a city in the middle of the thunder desert… We should be close.
Hank : I really need a dry bed. I'm too old for this shit…
Gavin : Rheumatism, old man ?
They see a cave
Hank : Shut up. Let's just stop for the night.
X
Gavin wakes up in the middle of the night
Nines and Connor are in stasis, Hank is sleeping.
??? : ℌ𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔫… ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱…
𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔭𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯… 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔱𝔥…
ℌ𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔫, 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔢…
Gavin walks away from the camp and goes deeper in the cave.
There is a stone shining orange/yellow in the dark blue night.
??? : ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔭𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔣𝔲𝔩.
Gavin : … And what do you want from me ?
??? : … 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔶.
Gavin touches the stone and a huge lightning strikes from the dark grey clouds.
Connor, Nines and Hank are awakened by the sound of thunder, and then Gavin's scream.
A thunder spirit is invading the cave, transferring from the stone to Gavin's body.
Hank : What the hell ?!
The magic flows into Gavin's nape, forming a golden seal.
Connor : Nines ! His neck !
Nines sees the seal and hits the spot with an ice arrow.
The thunder vanishes from the cave but the seal remains on Gavin's neck.
Gavin drops on his knees, in shock, trembling and breathing heavily.
Hank : You okay kid ? What happened ?
Hank turns to Nines
Hank : How did you know you had to hit the neck ?
Connor : We're magic creatures. We have seals too, we know they're a weakness.
Hank : So… What was that ?
Nines : A thunder war spirit.
*Nines looks at the stone*
Nines : This one was sealed in that cave... Somehow, Gavin unleashed it and now... he hosts it.
X
NB : So, the people that live in the stormy lands sealed the thunder war spirit in that cave a long long time ago. The first generations used to educate fighting monks to watch the cave but as time passed, it became a legend and now fighting monks are sent to other strategic points. The cave and the thunder war spirit that, in the past, devastated the Stormy Lands with bestial ferocity are now almost forgotten.
The war spirit was waiting for a suitable host to come by, someone already powerful and skilled in the arts of combat, but also spirited and ambitious, because those emotions fuels it. Its purpose is to take control of the body it possesses using negative emotions. Attacking the seal that appears on Gavin's neck stunts the spirit and seals it again for an unkown period of time. The only way to control the spirit is to use a goal as a channel, and redirect the thunder power to serve this purpose. The control can be absolute when the host has a steel motivation.
The basic victims of the war spirit are theoretically unable to have higher purposes in life than their own interests, so they always end up being totally under the spirit's influence and are killed to give full control of their bodies.
X
Gavin is outside, touching his neck, lost in his thoughts. It's raining and he's drenched. Nines glares at him from the entrance of the cave.
Nines : You should be dead.
Gavin doesn't even turn his head to stare back at the golem.
Gavin : Heard this already.
Nines : Elemental war Spirits are powerful. Humans… Most humans actually couldn't even contain their magic. That’s... quiet impressive.
Gavin : … It's lurking inside… waiting for the best moment to kill me, I can feel it.
Gavin sighs and closes his eyes, his fingers still tracing the edges of his new scar.
Anyway. I can't believe you left a scar there. Scars in the back are made when you run away… and I've never run away.
Nines : … Now you can't say you killed everyone who left you with a scar.
Gavin : Who knows, I could still kill you.
Nines : … Don't be ridiculous. You can't even defend your own body. How could you pretend to be strong enough to kill me ?
Gavin : Don't underestimate me, snowy prick.
X
Gavin is still outside, in the pouring rain. Hank is standing by the entrance of the cave.
Hank : Hey… How do you feel ?
Gavin :... Weird.
Hank : ...You know, we fight from time to time, but we're brothers in arms, in the Red Guard… Nice to know you're okay.
Gavin : … Hm…
...Hey Hank… If I… Die during this mission… I want a tombstone… next to my mother. And I… I want you to visit it, sometimes. I doubt that anyone is gonna remember me… except you, because I was a pain in your ass.
Hank : Pff. Don't think about it now. Just be careful in the future, alright ?
X
Hank's frowning in pain, groaning. Connor rises up his head.
Connor : You okay ?
Hank : … That little brat was right… I have an old injury on my back… this constant rain is making it so sore… Dammit.
Connor : Does this make it better ?
Connor applies his hand on Hank's back, using snow magic.
Hank : … Yeah, it… actually works.
Connor : Cold sooth pain. Markus knows healing magic, he tried to teach me but I'm way better at fighting.
Hank : … What was your job ? When you were still in Detroit ?
Connor : I worked a long time in Amanda Stern's fields. And some time before the Night of Freedom, she asked me to clean up and classify her books. I… I read them when she wasn't around. She had a lot of books about Kamski and magic.
Hank : That's how you had this idea ?
Connor : … One book actually says something that… intrigues me.
Hank: ?
Connor : "The key to our prosperity lays in…" And the end was never written. If we knew that maybe… Our people could finally find peace.
X
During the trip, Hank and Connor grow fond of one other. Hank likes Connor's capacity to analyze things and is low key impressed by his knowledge and his fighting skills, they even start to spar together. Connor happens to be interested in human sciences, and they end up talking philosophy a lot.
Connor feels intrigued by Hank, and starts feeling this "warm feeling" that puzzles him. Hank slowly realizes golems might not be totally responsible for what happened to his family, and starts showing empathy to Connor.
One night in an inn, Hank can't sleep, as usual, so Connor takes him out. They walk around the town, Hank talks about the Golden Age in Detroit, and the beautiful night market that was organized once a month. Connor says he remembers it. Golems weren't allowed in it, but he liked to watch the lights and hear the music from afar. When they get back to the room, Hank goes back into the bed and actually falls deep asleep. Connor stays there and looks at him as he sleeps, and can't help but think about how beautiful his silver thin hair looks in the moonlight. He brushes his hand, and it's so warm, a warmth that echoes his feelings. He just sits down near the bed and stays there, lost in his thoughts.
Nines doesn't like that Connor gets closer to Hank. He recognizes Hank is somehow well behaved and… righteous compared to Gavin, but he's still a HUMAN and he thinks Connor is forgetting they are not on the same side. Connor doesn't want to hear anything from his brother, because "I know what I'm doing okay ?". And he's embarrassed to think his brother might understand he's developing affection for Hank. Also, Connor is totally oblivious to Nines and Gavin's growing connection.
X
On the other hand, Nines relates to Gavin more than he would like to : they're actually pretty similar in the way they think. Gavin doesn't believe they'll even reach and find Kamski, he's just sticking around to make sure he'll be able to capture the androids when they fail, to take them back to Detroit and get all the glory. Nines is accompanying Connor because he doesn't trust the humans and is ready to kill them without batting an eyelid if they tried anything.
One day he finds Gavin in a sandy combe, training. Nines doesn't really know how, cause they didn't even say anything to each other, but he joins him in his training. Gavin admits the thunder spirit has made him really powerful and that he was sure he would be able to kill him, but this time, he wasn't bragging… His words sound like self realization, and Gavin doesn't seem that happy about it.
Nines provokes him saying "Show me" but Gavin shrugs. He says "I don't want to summon it… it would kill me too."
Nines asks Gavin if he is scared of the spirit, and Gavin looks away for a minute. "I'm a human. Humans are vulnerable to magic, that's why we fight it. But now… magic is part of me… How am I supposed to feel safe with this beast inside me, all the time ?"
Nines can't believe he replies "Beasts can be tamed. Magic can be controlled. Fear can be overcome. Just work on that instead of doing bulk up."
Gavin stays silent and Nines starts to walk off but then he turns around to face Gavin again and says "I can show you how."
The man hesitates but finally accepts.
#The red guard and the snow angel#TRGATSA#dbh connor#detroit become human#DBH#dbh hank#dbh gavin#gavin reed#dbh nines#hank anderson#hank x connor#hankcon#reed900
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all set | eren x reader
a/n: this is a story in the making, currently available at AO3 and Wattpad. If you like it, please don't hesitate to give me some kudos, leave a comment or maybe follow me on my social media! <3 Any feedback is highly appreciated since I'm just getting started!
pairing: eren yeager x female reader
tags: mature content, alternate universe (modern setting), college/university, recreational drug use, implied sexual content, M/F, F/F, the author is not religious lmao
word count: 4.3k
current chapters: 2/?
playlist: this one was made with a particular playlist in mind. they are really great songs that help to convey this chapter, so I hope you have a time to check them out! :)
a. slomosa - kevin
b. upsahl - drugs
c. rosenfeld - like u
d. kaiba - overdose
e. lil kapow - tinman
f. bodega - how did this happen!?
***
all set
I lost count of how many parties I went to this week. There was one at Shina, another at... Sasha's. Wait, was it? Or Ymir's? Honestly, both their houses look fairly similar and we always see the same faces over and over again, regardless of where we are getting wasted. Definitely two at my house. The timeline is blurry at this point. If my liver could talk, it would spit out "Screw you, Eren." and I wouldn't be able to disagree.
Classes will start next week so everyone is acting like we're going to stop doing all this for the rest of the semester. That never happens.
I barely enter Reiner's house and the music is already piercing my head. My ears will soon tell me to go screw myself too. The bass was loud. But it was good.
— Hey, finally — Reiner says, giving a hard slap in my back. I can't even get mad at him because he probably didn't mean for it to hurt. Fucking strong bastard.
— Sorry. Lost track of time.
— You know where the things are — he leaves me behind and disappears through the noisy music.
It's hot inside. August has been particularly cruel this year. I'm using a black t-shirt, which is luckily pretty thin, and my black Adidas pants that are somewhat breathable. My hair is in a bun. I will probably be sweating soon, though. Reiner's AC won't do miracles with this amount of people since it is specially packed today. I guess I might see some new faces tonight, huh.
This fact already makes things more interesting.
I walk through the room and then arrive in the kitchen. Connie and Sasha are there.
— Eren!! — I barely open my mouth to talk and Sasha is already giving me whatever weird drink they made. Their drinks sometimes are... unusual, for the lack of a better word. Most of the time they are simply pure shit. They call it scout's fuel, always the same name regardless of what's inside. Maybe that's why my liver hates me so much.
— Thanks — I'm already used to the goddamn gasoline taste — I guess you both want to get us wasted tonight.
— It's our personal mission, so enjoy the fuel — Connie says laughing, raising his plastic cup. I love this duo – who doesn't? – and I can't help but laugh with them, even though it tastes so bad — Everyone is already here, come on — I follow them and find all the familiar faces I've seen all week: Bertholdt, Historia, Ymir, Mikasa, Annie, Armin, Jean, everyone.
The girls look hot, even though I'm used to them. Either way, I avoid hooking up with my friends since the last time didn't work so well. It's better to avoid Mikasa today.
We all sit together while drinking. I light a joint I had already prepared at home and say — Am I crazy or is Reiner's party bigger than usual? —, releasing the smoke a few seconds after. This one is the best grass we could get around our area, I've saved it primarily for today and now I see that might have been a great decision on my part. I'm glancing through the room and looking for some girls, might share this shit with one - or a few - of them later.
— Thank god, I was tired of seeing your ugly faces every fucking time — Jean says. The girls look at him and he rushes to add — I mean, the boys, of course. It's always nice looking at all of you, ladies.
It's not enough to avoid Annie's kick anyway — We can say the same of you, horse face.
Reiner arrives at the perfect time and explains — Since the new semester starts Monday, news about today traveled fast and we got a lot more company than usual.
— Do you know all of them, Reiner? — Historia asks — I've talked to a bunch of them tonight and there are people from all over the campus and from all years as well — Historia always looks pretty, her blonde hair shining even in the low light of the party. Guys make a line to talk to her at all parties so there's no surprise that she's already familiarized with the whole scenario. I wonder what Ymir thinks of it. Probably followed her during this little field trip.
— Hell, no — he grabs the joint of my hand and sucks deeply — I know some of them and some are Bertholdt's friends but there are some random people.
— I bet Reiner knows a lot of the girls — I take my joint back from his fingers — I assume they aren't Bertholdt's friends, though — and grin.
— Hey, I don't see you with any new company either, dude — Bertholdt tries to grab my weed as well, but I avoid his advances. He instead grabs my cup and drinks all of it, leaving me empty. He makes a funny face at the taste. Suit yourself, man, I think to myself, laughing on the inside.
— Yeah, but I'll work on it in a sec — I tease him knowing that he can't handle much of Sasha and Connie's fuel. He always knocks out before everyone. I hope he realizes he needs to stay awake to try anything with Annie. Someday. He simply never gets there.
Hange arrives almost falling over Ymir and spilling her drink on the floor in the process — I think we should all make a toast and make this last party a wild ride!!! — her yelling stabbing us louder than the music.
— Bitch, you are this fucking drunk already? — Ymir says to her, holding Hange's weight on her back — What the hell did the gasoline duo do to you?
— Okay okay, enough with the questions, let me fill your cups because this is the night! — Sasha says, just pouring all that mystery liquid that soon will go straight to our heads — Also, Reiner, where's the food?
We raise our plastic cups and Connie yells — To the new semester! — and we drink, feeling the immediate burn on our throats. It's hard being a scout.
— I need to get laid today — Jean says as he lays his back on the couch — Gonna arrive for the classes pretty motivated next week — he then rests his left arm at the back pillow, behind Mikasa's head.
— You should start roaming, then — her cold delivery puts Jean's subtle attempt at flirting six feet under the ground, as usual. It was pretty damn quick, but I could notice Mikasa glancing at me and then looking the other way. Yeah, I think I need to start roaming soon, too.
— That sounds great, then let's do that!!! — Hange grabs Jean by the arm and they disappear amongst the crowd.
— When all this fun ends, I'll be the one who will probably have to take him home after he gets slapped by some girls — Armin and Jean live with me so we normally go back together. Armin is the responsible one between us, which is not exactly hard considering how Jean and I are — Gonna at least drink some beer before that happens.
— I'll go with you, this drink sucks — Annie says, finishing the drink anyway and following him. We always drink the last drop of it, we never learn.
The girls went dancing, the music was exceptionally good today. A lot of bands I already liked plus some I have never heard before. I need to remember to ask Reiner for this playlist later. Connie was already surrounded by a different group, everyone likes to talk to him. He is popular. The rest dispersed as well and I could hear Hange's screams far away. This is going to be a night for her, indeed.
I start walking around, meeting a lot of people from my classes and others from the campus in general. I talk to all of them and drink a lot in the process, which feeds my need for nicotine every time. I grab my pack of cigarettes and while smoking, I see Levi.
— I must be dreaming — I say, letting the smoke leave my lips with a smile. It reaches him and looks at me with a deadly expression. He is smoking as well, but he only admits one specific brand of cigarettes and hates all the others. Levi usually doesn't show up at these "brat" parties, as he likes to say, since he's a few years older than us. I normally see him at Shina's, which is a popular club slash bar near our university. He's the owner so we all met him there, after going so many times. Shina has the best parties and the best drinks of all the clubs near us. And it couldn't be any other way, since Levi is a perfectionist. There's also a small stage there, where indie bands perform from time to time. My band does some gigs there sometimes.
— Hey — he replies, as cold as ever. He's Mikasa's cousin, so they have the same expressions and hard-to-approach vibe — Already high, I see.
— Always. In fact, today I hope to be higher than usual. What miracle brings you here?
— Some people from the staff decided to come here today so there are fewer brats to piss me off — he drinks what's probably a high priced whiskey and continues — and there's a new girl at the club so we have been showing her the area for a few weeks now.
— There's a lot of new girls here today — although I know Levi doesn't give a crap.
— So? — yeah, he doesn't.
Levi is a pretty successful business owner and even I have to admit that he's hot – is not only common knowledge but a mutual agreement between everyone –, so girls are always trying to get him, but he doesn't screw most of them. He doesn't fuck brats, period. He says he doesn't have the patience. That makes the girls even more desperate. He has the highest standards of every guy I know. When he was still in university – the same we all go –, he screwed not only the hottest girls but also the professors - which went after him and not the other way around. At least that's what I've heard. I think Levi never had to actively look for any girl, to be honest.
I can only laugh at his reply. That's just so him.
— If you want more stuff than what's already in your system, Floch is over there.
— I want, actually. I was going to look for him — I see Floch's red hair among some folks. Floch is usually as busy as Connie but with less than half of the charisma.
He finishes his cigarette, blowing its last white smoke into the air, and we both hear a loud HELL YEAH!! coming from all the other way across the room — Tsk, is that Hange?
— Pfft, it was before, I think it's Sasha now — he doesn't laugh at my reply. He never does. I think hell would freeze while heaven catches on fire.
I think about the music again. It's so good today, what the hell — Hey Levi, don't you think this playlist is too high quality for a Reiner party? I don't get it, his music taste is always pure trash.
— That's from our new girl — he drinks the last drops of his whiskey and starts to leave — You might find her around here — he then suddenly stops and looks at me — Don't get your hopes up, though.
I am not able to ask what he meant by that because he leaves too quickly. Time to look for Floch.
— Hey, Flo-
— Here.
— You didn't even let me finish.
— I know what you want. You are not in the mood for cocaine so you want MD instead, blah-blah-blah-blah. Is that kind of night — he pauses for mere seconds — Am I wrong, Eren?
— Nope, right as usual — Floch is the main person you go to when you need drugs. I mean, good drugs. He looks like your standard rich boy – which he is, by the way – that can do no wrong, but you can get the best stuff from him. I've always found this funny. The weed I have today was his work. He knows my taste well.
Reiner's frat house is huge, so there's plenty of room to walk. I'm approached by a bunch of girls on the way but for some reason, none of them piques my interest. I am pretty set on going after something new today and I have no problem getting laid. It happened every single day this week and it truly happens anytime I want. Which, okay, boosts my ego a little bit. Maybe a lot. I might even have hurt some girls in the process. I was never slapped though, unlike Jean. So that's a win in my book.
I see a few of my friends again, mainly Historia and Reiner, and they are talking to a girl I've never seen before.
She has long black hair and short messy bangs, the kind that goes a little above the eyebrows. I didn't know black hair was my thing until now. Her face has the perfect features, at least for me. She's wearing a sleeveless white top that is so tight that hugs her figure perfectly and makes her breasts look amazing. That type of top that shows the girl's side boob, and I'm a total sucker for those. It is also short so you can see a bit of her waist. And I don't even have to see her ass because I already know it is probably too damn good. Her light blue ripped jeans are cool as well and she has black sneakers. I like her style. She has a bunch of tattoos - a lot on her right arm, one on her left hand, and probably some that I couldn't see because they were behind her clothes. I intended to, though.
Fuck, she's hot.
Historia looks mesmerized talking to her, which is a very privileged view from where I stand because, as I've already said before, she is also beautiful. But she isn't exactly hot. This girl is. Way too much. Oh, and Reiner is there too. Whatever.
I can see a lot of guys want to approach her but none of them do. I went for it. Wasn't this night supposed to be wild?
— Hey, Eren! Guess what, Y/N is the new DJ at Shina! I was telling her how we go there all the time.
— Hi, Eren, nice to meet you — she says, with that kind of smile that people who know they are hot make. I do that too.
— Hey, Y/N — I say. And as I told you seconds before, I'm good with that type of smile as well so that's what she gets — Levi told me he came with the staff and a new girl, so I suppose that's you.
— Yeah, I'll start there next week.
— I talked to him about the party's playlist because I knew it couldn't be Reiner's.
— Yeah, it's Y/N's. She prepared it for the party when I invited the guys from Shina yesterday. We were in the same high school. — Reiner says that looking at me with a face that shows "See that, dickhead? I've known her for some years now".
— It's pretty good! I can't wait for the next party at Shina's to see your set! — Historia was always an angel.
REINER, WHERE'S THE REST OF THE ICE, MAN??, someone screamed far away.
— Shit. Catch up with you later, Y/N.
Too bad, huh, Reiner? He gives me a look that I can't quite figure out what it is, but I know for sure it wasn't a look of support. In the fucking slightest.
— I think Ymir is calling me as well, sorry!! — It was painfully obvious that Ymir wanted to make out with Historia for some time now. They never did. I think only Historia hasn't realized yet that Ymir is thirsty for her for god knows how long.
After Historia left, there was only me and her — So, by any chance, do you go to the same university as us? You look our age but Levi said you are new here — I tried asking this without looking at her body, but looking at her face was even worse. Her eyes were piercing me in the best way possible.
— I'm not exactly new, I'm from the same uni as you guys, but I took a gap year — she takes a sip of her drink — You probably never met me but I'm in the same year as you all are now.
Since Reiner knew her from high school, he also knew she was at the same university all along and never told any of the guys. Smart fucker.
— So that makes you a year older than me — I smirk at her.
— I guess it does — she smirks back as she lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke at me.
Ok, looking good so far.
I'm pretty high at this point, the MD and the music are making me horny, so I don't even bother to pretend that I'm not looking at her body. I'm looking at everything.
— You took something, didn't you?
— Do you want some? I can show you later where to get the best stuff. Anything you are in the mood for.
— I'm all set — she shows me her tongue and I see the acid. The view makes my own tongue feel lonely, maybe I should use it to steal that from her mouth. I hope she's horny as well.
We talk a lot about music since it's something that we both enjoy. She's passionate about it, I can tell. She asks about my band with true interest. Doesn't sound like small talk. She touches her hair and it makes me want to stuff my face in it. She has the smile that makes you want more. Her voice has the same effect.
The loud music allows us to talk near each other's ears. I hope she moans as loud as her playlist. The girls usually love my hair for some reason, either if it's in a messy bun as it is right now or if it's loose. They all love my green eyes too. She can see all that with somewhat detail since we are so close, even though it is a little dark here. If I take you to a room you can see me better, I almost blurb it out. I can see her too and that kills me.
She looks receptive to me but normally at this point I would be already hooking up with the girl. This time it isn't happening. I never have to work so much. I think I understand why the other guys didn't approach her before. She's a little intimidating to talk to, and that comes naturally to her – it doesn't seem to be on purpose. I flirt with her the way I normally do but she is hard to get, she hits every ball I throw. I remember what Levi said before. Oh, right.
But I'm vibing way too much at this point, I think if I touch any part of her I'll get hard immediately.
— This gap year you've mentioned... Did you go anywhere specific?
— I know it will sound cliché, but I went to Europe.
— Where in Europe?
— Everywhere — she says — I went down — the corner of her lips forming a smile — And up. Everywhere. — and I can swear she sounds flirtatious as hell. I want to bite her lip.
— That sounds... Awesome. — I think she wants to bite me too, or at least I hope she does — Was there any particular reason to leave? If that's not too much to ask.
— Hm, I was kinda... — she stops to think for a few seconds as she holds her hair up and makes a ponytail, looking at the ground, the cigarette glued to her now closed lips. Her neck became exposed, it looks soft as hell and I can't wait to bruise it. She releases the smoke, that flows into the room, and looks deep into my eyes, as deep as I want to be inside her right now — ...stressed.
I reach my limit at this point.
— I can help you with the stress if you want.
— Really? — she's looking at me with the same teasing look and I'm doing the same, so we both know that's not a question I have to answer. Her tongue quickly passes through her top lip, her mouth forming a little wet smile — I don't think I need any help though.
I threw the ball and she hit a home run. My team was out.
I was not expecting that.
We hear some of the guys from Shina calling for her — Oh, they are calling me — Y/N looks at me again and says — See you around, Eren — giving me the same fucking grin I wanted to bite before.
She walks away and I see that her ass is, as I suspected from the very beginning, too damn good.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
After this, some time has passed. I look at the clock. Yeah, maybe a lot. I couldn't tell before because I'm drunk and drugged. I see most of my friends, all fucking wasted. Armin is holding up pretty well, Bertholdt's is knocked down for God knows how long, Mikasa probably smoked way too much weed (who am I to judge?) and looks dead on the couch. I don't see Ymir, Historia nor Reiner - there are too many people in this house to keep count. Sasha's eating something in the kitchen, I can't see what it is, but certainly, she got hungrier than normal after smoking some pot Connie gave her. Connie always holds his drinks well, he's still talking to a lot of people. I pass in front of one of the bathrooms and Hange is there, getting everything out of her system. Oh, and Ymir. There she is, holding Hange's hair, looking as pissed as ever. Levi probably went home hours ago. Jean is making out with some chick, he's going to score tonight. To be fair, he always does, but never with Mikasa.
I saw a lot of pretty girls today and I went for none of them. They tried and I shut them down, even the ones I normally fuck. There's someone I want to taste tonight and she's nowhere to be found. The guys from Shina are missing too, so I know I won't see her today anymore. Damn.
I'm not pissed at her but I'm pissed at the situation.
— Armin, I think I'm going to take off, are you coming?
— Yeah, I'm already pretty tired — he gets up — Jean's probably going to stay here.
— Yep. Probably. — Am I pissed that Jean's getting laid? Even though I could have as well? With someone else, at least? My mood feels off.
— I'm going with you too, I've lost count of how many assholes I had to shut down today. I think I even punched a few — I don't have to look to know that's Annie speaking — You were right, Eren, is it especially crowded today. In the shittiest way possible.
— Then let's go.
— Wait, I need to get my bag first, I left it in Reiner's room.
— I can get that for you, wait up.
— It's a black one. Small.
I sign a thumbs up for her and climb the stairs. I am hundred percent sure I'm going to see someone fucking there but that's the usual. I'm pretty sure I've already seen some people screwing in the corner of the living room minutes before. No one cares.
I open the door and see Y/N in her underwear, putting her white top back on. She does indeed have other tattoos.
— Hey there! — she says smiling, as she also puts her jeans back up, making little jumps so they pass through her ass. Her hair is not in a ponytail anymore.
I say hi in a confusing way.
— I came here to get my friend's bag — I look around for milliseconds like I don't know where the hell I am until I see Reiner lying - clearly naked - under his sheets. Can't be anyone else, with that bleached hair and huge biceps.
What? Ahn?
Hey... Wait a second.
Historia? Clearly naked as well? What. The. Hell. I guess she's not exactly the angel I thought she was?
They are sort of awake, sort of sleeping, kinda like on a different planet. You know, the type of thing that happens after a really strong fuck? That sort. They look exhausted. They look destroyed. And not in a bad way. AT ALL.
— Oh, I saw a bag before. Here you go — she gives me Annie's bag. She's all dressed now. She notices my confusion, I'm too high to act any other way — I've told you I don't need any help — her eyes piercing mine for the hundredth time tonight. Her smile hurts now. Ouch.
She grabs her sneakers and walks towards me and the door:
— I'm all set.
She leaves the room as I hold Annie's bag.
Yeah. I was not expecting that.
***
Thanks for reading (if there's even anyone here lmao). Chapter 2 will be uploaded later but it can be read now at AO3 or Wattpad.
#eren yeager#attack on titan#attack on titan smut#eren x you#eren x reader#aot smut#eren yeager smut#eren jaeger smut#attack on titan x reader#shingeki no kyojin fanfiction#shingeki no kyojin x reader#smut#eren#aot#ao3#female reader#m/f ships#f/f fanfic#f/f smut#m/f smut#eren jaeger#snk x reader#snk#snk eren#aot fandom#aot fanfiction#snk fanfiction#snk fandom#tw drugs#all set
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siberu | reader x din djarin
summary: reader is not human, but a force-senstive humanoid, who is searching for a legendary sickle in the caverns of an arctic planet named siberus. she stumbles across a lonely, very lost, and very cold din djarin in the snow. they discuss the strange little creature in din’s bag.
mentions: cursing. mention of the youngling situation during order 66. gender is a construct. reader is absolutely fawning over how cute grogu is.
note: just two people repressing obvious feelings. this was a request so i hope @tolkienblackgirl approves! i’m sorry it was literally months before i got to it. it’s not a super happy ending and a little angsty which is very unlike me. i really wish i could’ve done more with this, but i have three other fics on my hands at the moment so i had to make it a one-shot.
rating: m just in case.
it was way too fucking cold here.
you didn’t care for siberus just by the briefing alone, but when your ship lands upon the frozen terrain, you teeth immediately clench. snow falls around you in flurries, the wind spiraling them into a weak tornado at your booted feet as soon as your ramp tumbles noisily upon the ground. the air was heavy with frost and it showed each time you drew breath, the vapor chilling immediately in the polar atmosphere.
you tug your shawl tighter around you - a piece of fabric that you realized very quickly wouldn’t do much against the bite of the tundra. you thought you were ready for the weather - thought you were prepared for the manner of dress required for siberus, but the reputation of the ice world had proceeded even the nastiest of rumors. no one dared tread upon siberus ground - not in years, anyway.
but that wasn’t just because of its climate.
siberus was one of the planets utterly destroyed by “the great purge”. a distressing lack of life forms shown on your radar as you scan the horizon, save for the exceptionally evolved animals that could withstand the tundra. as soon as you landed, they’d immediately scattered across the snow and fled to their holes in the ground. you didn’t blame them; for as long as they’d been isolated, the idea of an intruder must’ve been beyond terrifying.
the council told you it was here. somewhere, in these thousands of kilometers of snow and ice, is the last jedi sickle.
a powerful weapon...but you argued that it was hardly warranted a visit to hoth’s much crueler and unforgiving sibling. hells, the empire hadn’t even dared visit. maybe they might have had they known the sickle was secured in carbonite. maybe they’d gone out of their way if that piece of information managed to trickle through their grapevine, but even then, was it worth their time? you weren’t even convinced it was.
it was described as “the poor man’s dark saber”. while the sickle was nearly impossible to destroy, it wouldn’t peel through anything like the dark saber could. no. the dark saber was somewhat of a mythical thing. the sickle, however, felt more convincing.
and for whatever reason, they had entrusted you to retrieve it.
they were the council of augusten, your home planet, blackened by night at all times. a symbiotic relationship with a bio-luminescent plant was, essentially, your sun - your star. this resulted in a tolerable, but irritating, daytime blindness of its natives peoples and creatures. and while siberus wasn’t exactly bright this time of day (especially with such a raging storm concealing your view), it was enough to make the vessels thrum tensely behind your eyes.
you’re one of the last! they said triumphantly, as though to sweeten you up. a survivor of the order! it is your duty!
bullshit.
it wasn’t such a strange idea that the council wanted the sickle. it wasn’t, by any means, quite like the mandalore legend of the dark saber. but it wasn’t just the power wielding the weapon itself brought - it was the kyber crystal within it.
it could power thousands of machines and harness energy for millions of resources. honestly, you hadn’t even considered the worthiness of kyber crystals for anything other than constructing lightsabers, but it made sense. enough sense that you felt obligated to fetch it from this frozen wasteland.
you talked a big talk about being able to find it. hells! you almost convinced yourself it’d be a piece of cake by the way you spoke with such confidence and bullshit conviction at the briefing. but looking out upon the snow-laden horizon - mountains and all - you suddenly weren’t so sure of yourself.
pride, as always, comes before the fall. as usual.
you even considered going back. there wasn’t a handbook for finding ancient, priceless, jedi artifacts. there wasn’t a tracking beacon for it either and your abilities could only do so much. you prayed to the force that, if anything, your connection as a jedi might be enough to conjure it from hiding. and, of course, that proved fruitless within the first half-hour.
you’re about to collapse. it wasn’t the night that shrouded you that almost did it; the darkness was your home - your element. you vision (very literally) fared much better in the blackness. the cold, on the other hand, was licking at your bones and causing you to tremble beneath your own weight.
it’s when you’re on the verge of making camp that you spot a figure upon the horizon.
not just any figure.
a person.
there’s a surge of motivation to keep moving. (strange, how that works...) whoever it is isn’t very far away - not even four kilometers. and if they’re searching for transportation it clearly isn’t in reach. they move at a slow pace, forcing themselves to walk against the bite of siberus’s gale.
when you’re in reach of this mysterious being, you yell out in haste. “hey! you!”
the figure stops their fight with the current of snow. they’re knee-deep in the tundra - you’re waist deep, really. and when you squint through the particles of snow, blinking rapidly to melt it away, you notice the shine of...
beskar.
“a mandalorian?!” you shout.
you shuffle closer as they remain still as stone. if they truly were a mandalorian, they’d certainly be on their guard - certainly moving for a blaster at their hip. you’re able to see their helmet’s face pierced upon yours as you step closer. how they managed to hear you, you couldn’t be sure, but it was a welcome surprise all the same.
you wrap your shawl closer around you, protecting your cheeks against the sting of cold. you observe the mandalorian (or what you expected to be the mandalorian) in their steely armor as they consider you for what felt like minutes. (too long in this damn climate.) siberus’s two moons allow the beskar to glint when the shoulder pauldrons move just right, a beam of light reflecting into your sensitive eyes. you hiss as a result.
“what is it you want?” the mandalorian demands, body now angling towards you. they’ve obviously come to the conclusion you’re of no immediate danger.
you narrow your eyes as the wind picks up, flakes of snow blurring this person until they’re just a speck against a backdrop. you don’t even consider your next words - you’ve always been too trusting. but something in this mandalorian’s spirit told you that they were harmless. in fact, they could prove valuable to this mission.
anything to get you off this frozen rock as quickly as possible.
“come to my ship! it’s warm!” you toss your head in the direction of where you came.
the mandalorian is taken aback. they recoil, physically, on the balls of their feet. who in their right kriffin’ mind would invite a mandalorian to stay in the privacy of their own ship? especially on such a deserted planet?
still, the mandalorian shouts over the wind. “why should i trust you?!”
there’s really nothing to do but shrug. “because we’re both about to freeze to death!” you point to their beskar that is, while impenetrable, starting to collect icicles. no, nothing could break beskar, but the mandalorian inside it could freeze.
this is enough to convince the mandalorian.
⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
you’ve made two cups of java by the time the mandalorian finally un-clenches his fists.
it’s a him. he told you by the way he moved - how his shoulders barely fit through the limited width of your ship’s entrance or how his voice rung beneath his helmet. still, gender didn’t really fit in your culture. gender wasn’t worthy enough to be considered important so you were hesitant of calling them either or.
it was when you kept dancing around the pronouns that he finally uttered, “i’m a male.”
you raise a brow, pouring the steaming java into a ceramic mug that had chips and stains on the sides of it. (the handle on yours broke after an upsetting landing from last mission. handles were hard to come by in this galaxy. a luxury, even.)
“oh?” you ask.
the mandalorian grunts, barely slipping his helmet past his lips to drink. you knew all about their creed so it came as no surprise when he immediately pulled it back down his chin.
“i know you’re augustenian. i’m aware of how your people feel about identity.” he pauses, lifting his head to watch your reaction. “male is fine. he is fine.”
it was kind - not blunt - the way this came from his lips. you allow a gentle smile to tug at the corner of your lips. “you knew from the markings, right?” you ask, motioning to the upside down crescent upon your forehead; it glowed a faint green in the darkness.
he nods a little. it’s hard to speak to someone when you’re unable to look into their eyes. you depended on the expressions of beings and it felt impersonal to speak to him now because of it. still, you weren’t one to question creed or faith.
“it’s hard to miss,” he replies, bringing his cup to the side of his body, and shifting between his cloak.
you raise a brow. “what are you doing?”
the mandalorian stills, aware that it may look strange if not explained. “i, uh...” he takes a deep breath and pulls a woven strap from his shoulder; a large, lumpy thing, that moves when he situates it. it even makes a coo’ing noise.
“did you manage to catch some wildlife?” you ask, amazed. you tilt your head, reaching a hand out to pull back the flap of the bag.
but the mandalorian grabs your hand in a brisk movement, clenching hard around your wrist. “don’t. he’s...” he sighs. “he’s a little jumpy.”
you furrow your brows. he knew the mannerism of this creature personally? it must’ve been a traveling companion you’d failed to notice. you pull away and nod, waiting for him to reveal whatever this thing was.
when a pair of long, green, and fuzzy ears pop out from beneath the bag’s opening, you shriek in delight. the little creature stares back at you, large black eyes rounded in the moonlight, and a curious smile beaming upon his kind face when he understands you are of no danger.
“what a precious little thing!” you coo. you reach out for him, fingers twiddling in anticipation. “may i?”
the mandalorian fixates his stare more heavily upon you. with a protective gruff he says, “if you try anything with him...”
you shake your head, bouncing a little restlessly in your seat. “i wouldn’t ever hurt a child.”
for some reason he seems to believe you but still hands you the baby with caution. when the creature’s little hands wrap themselves around you, a jolt of bliss surges through your body. you’ve always adored children and this really was a youngling.
but...he was more than that.
your smile fades slowly from your mien as you stare into his eyes, watching something unfold that the mandalorian before you can’t see. he’s sensitive like you. force sensitive. you can feel the way that the energy beats around him - like a dance - but weakening with every moment.
and then there’s an image.
an image you wished you’d never see.
younglings sprawled upon the jedi temple floor, their bodies mangled and bloodied from vicious crime. you find yourself turning away from his penetrating stare, brows furrowed in pain, when a collective scream of terror ricochets from a place very far in the past.
you weren’t there to see it in person. just in stories. as a survivor, the guilt haunted you at night. this was certainly...overwhelming.
“where did you find this child?” you find yourself asking, words barely audible through chapped lips. you didn’t even realize you were saying it until after it was done.
the mandalorian is quick to reply. “there was a bounty on his life. the empire - well, whoever they are now - wanted him.”
you find yourself gripping the child to your chest in possessiveness. “no. you can’t,” you gasp. “they’ll kill him.”
the mandalorian raises a hand to you in a show of sympathy. “i know. i didn’t give him to them.” he pauses, watching as you cradle the child in your arms and petting his long ears with tears in your eyes. “are you...”
you raise your head to watch him, anxious as to your next move. but you sputter out the truth like it was poison - like you couldn’t hold it in anymore. “a jedi,” you confirm. “yes. or...i was.”
the mandalorian is taken aback but the news registers him into silence. he observes the way you press the little one to your cheek and give him a small kiss near his eye. he smiles - albiet, sadly - beneath his helmet when the kid nuzzles against you in a show of affection, little claws wrapping themselves around your forefinger as though his life depended on it.
”i...” he hesitates, and then sighs. “i was quested to bring him back to his own kind. your kind.”
you’re aware of what he wants...what he’s trying to say.
“no.” you answer. “i can’t train him. i won’t.”
the mandalorian goes silent. through clenched teeth he asks, “why not?”
you look into the child’s face. he hasn’t spoken to you - not in the way jedi are able - but he’s given you an insight to his relationship with this man. and his fear was palpable - thick.
he was closing himself off. he was unstable.
you rub the child’s ears once more, finger and thumb warming the skin. “he’s cut himself off from the force. i don’t have the influence on him that is necessary to change his heart.” you sigh, placing the child in the mando’s arms. “i’m sorry.”
the mandalorian looks down at the child in his embrace as he snuggles against his chilled beskar without protest. “what can i do?”
you sigh, rubbing circles into your temple. what could he do? you had barely passed the trials by the time order 66 was executed. and most jedi were killed during the great purge. you were one of the very last - one of those the empire had not successfully tracked down.
but you were no master.
“there is a jedi...” you whisper. you wring your hands together in apprehension. “i’ve never met her. she’s called ahsoka tano. there are rumors she lives.”
the mandalorian is quick to respond. “how do i find her?”
“i don’t know,” you tell him truthfully. “her survival isn’t confirmed.”
the mandalorian grumbles under his breath. “dank farrik.” he sets the child back into his sling and tucks him to his side again.
you watch as the two of them stare at one another, both desperate for answers you weren’t able to give them. they seem to have endured a long journey - long enough that they’ve formed a bond you’ve never seen between a mandalorian and another living creature.
you sigh. “i’m sorry i can’t do more,” you tell him. “but at least stay and rest. you look as though you need it.”
he watches you between the slits of his visor and it’s unsettling that you don’t know the color of his eyes. that feels important to know about a person. he wasn’t a machine - he was a man - and he should be regarded as such.
it takes a moment for him to process the invitation. surely he didn’t get very many of those. while that wasn’t surprising it was still very upsetting; more upsetting than you’d expected, anyway.
you offer him your bed but he denies and tells you he’ll sleep on the floor. if you’d like to share with the child i’d be more than grateful, he tells you. you knew it was an honor to be trusted with this child’s life, so you accept.
in the morning, the storm has passed, and the child still lay in your arms after a night of peaceful sleep. you feel the mandalorian - whose name you never got - strategically remove the child from your limbs.
and just when he’s about to leave - he hesitates. you can hear his footfalls stop short of the exit as you pretend to still sleep for whatever reason. maybe you were afraid to look upon him again - that you’d find yourself slipping into a feeling you weren’t allowed to humor.
so you remain still.
you remain still even as the mandalorian wipes a strand of hair from your eyes, takes a deep breath, and allows the child to snuggle his nose against yours. he coos just slightly - a little goodbye - and it causes your stomach to drop to your knees.
you consider waking; to tell them you’d help find ahsoka, to say fuck it to whatever jedi order didn’t exist anymore and entertain whatever butterflies had tickled your insides when the mandalorian’s caress embraced your skin.
but when you open your eyes, they’ve gone.
⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆
NOTE: i’m so sorry this wasn’t what i originally envisioned but i still like it! also, i’d like to go ahead and say - in case i didn’t make it clear enough - that mando asked for the child to sleep with reader because it would’ve been super uncomfortable for him to sleep on the floor.
#request#the mandolorian x reader#mando x reader#i'm disapointed in this but also not surprised#SORRY#IN#ADVANCE#mw1
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Motion Sickness 27.1
pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq
I wasn't the sort to dwell on what Weiss had wanted from me. Well I totally was. I dwelt on everything. I was a dweller. But I was also the sort to get my workout in anyways.
Really, my thoughts were on Eminence and her partner. The people I had killed. They hadn't acted like gang members or at least not like the picture I had in my head of gang members. What with the pleas for me to spare their lives and all.
Well maybe the picture I had of gang members was of non-people. Then when I encountered some people and killed them I was surprised to find out that they were the same as anybody else. They had died the same as everybody else would, or at least most people would; together, if they were lucky, and begging for their lives, besides.
Qrow wheeled out on me while I was practicing my Limit Breaks and just watched me move around for a long time.
"Enjoying the view?" I asked.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"How are you feeling, kid."
"Like a murderer and a liar."
"We both know why we had to keep it from Ruby. Now we just have one more favor from Ms. Malachite."
"Assuming she keeps her word. I don't trust these criminals as much as you do."
"She will. She has to uphold deals she makes in front of her men in good faith. Or else they'll start to wonder about their own paychecks. It's a little bit of honor amongst thieves. It's more to prevent backstabbing than out of any real sense of honor, though. Trust that."
"Gee, if you say it like that I really have no choice."
"Tell me how you really feel."
"I feel… all kinds of fucked up. I want to talk to Ruby about it but I can't and it's leaving me more fucked up."
"You know why we can't talk to Ruby about it. As far as she is concerned it's just one favor. Scroll keys out of Don Corneo."
"I'm supposed to just live with this. Live with myself."
"Yeah kid. Just like the rest of us."
"The thing is I think I can do it. I think I can do it easily , too. That scares me."
"Sounds too complicated for me. It sounds like you're struggling; just the same as I do."
I grunted and swung my sword at nothing. "It's not quite the same. And all I have to talk to about it is you."
"Easy kid. Have a drink. Relax. There's nothing you can change about it now and nothing you would want to anyways."
I inhaled a shaking breath. He was right. Qrow needed legs. I had to be the one to kill them. It had to be done. No one of my friends would have done it. Didn't that make it wrong? None of them would have approved. I already had the answers I needed. I just didn't like them.
"Who were they? What did they do to deserve having me come after them?"
"Does it really matter? Come on have a drink."
"I don't want to drink anymore."
"You need to relax somehow."
"I am. This is what I do to relax now."
This was how I'd relax for the rest of my life. I swung the sword fast enough that it made several satisfying thwump sounds in the air.
"Well, we wanted to discuss the matter of infiltrating Don Corneo's workplace with you." It was Ozpin. Someone I wanted to talk to even less.
"What about it? We don't need to risk Ruby or Nora now. And I don't need to wear a dress. We have Yang."
"I'm not super comfortable with my niece going in there."
"But you're comfortable with me killing people." I wiped my brow and glared at Qrow. "Your priorities are fucked."
"Easy on the language, now." Ozpin said with Oscar's mouth. "It's good that we have only one favor between us and getting Qrow back on his feet. Then, thanks to Ms. Xiao Long and Ms. Schnee being with us again, things are better now than they were yesterday."
"What does better for you even mean?" I wondered. "How do you handle the lying and the murder?"
"So long as they don't ask us about it, it's hardly lying. And from what you told Qrow you did kill somebody in a near bar fight. The story you told your friends merely bordered on the truth." Ozpin lectured. "As for killing it never gets any easier. And that's a good thing. Though we take life we don't make any light of it." I exhaled hard. It was no new advice. "And we don't make sport of it. I heard you encountered one of the people drafted to Salem's side."
"The Scorpion."
"Yes. Tyrian. There are others too. Others like Hazel Rainart. They would not be so disturbed by violence as you are. Let them serve as a counterpoint. Would the man who attacked Ruby and yourself be upset if they had killed someone? Perhaps. But not like you are now."
"I get it. I get it." I sighed. "You wanted to talk about the infiltration mission. I vote Yang."
"We should discuss it." Qrow interceded.
"We are." Ozpin and I said at the same time. That pissed me off.
"I don't like the idea of her in there."
"You think I have a chance in a dress? I can rock a dress but I'm missing a certain je ne sais quoi that Yang has."
"You didn't want Ms. Rose or Ms. Valkyrie to do it. Why Ms. Xaio Long?"
"Je ne sais quoi."
"Yes. I suppose so." Ozpin relented. "Over Ms. Schnee too, I suppose. Our Target has a predilection for the type who frequent such places. Ms. Xaio Long is a match for, at least in looks."
"She looks like a party girl who knows how to earn a little extra cash is what you're saying." Qrow wasn't happy about it. "I get it though. Maybe she is our best bet."
"She bragged about going clubbing at Beacon. She has experience I don't. Plus she has infinitely more time spent in a female body than me. She knows how to use it better than I can fathom."
"We should have a backup plan," Ozpin insisted.
"She can wear a wire and everyone else can be waiting outside. There's five of us in huntsman-shape. Speaking of shouldn't they be here for this conversation. Part of being open with everyone."
"I wanted to have a quick think-tank and see what you thought." Ozpin dismissed my jab at him. "Qrow trusts your instincts."
"I don't like any of it. I think somebody is going to get hurt. I think Don Corneo from what we know is a scumbag."
"And what do you think of Leonardo?"
I faltered for a moment. "I don't trust him. I don't like how Cinder and her allies snuck past him." If Ozpin thought hard about it he would see how I don't trust him either. I snuck past him. I could have gotten myself or somebody else killed.
And he picked me over some more qualified student who had a better, more authentic resume. He chose me anyways. Why? Was he incompetent? I sure used to be. Or could he actually see my potential and what I would become and thought it was worth the risk.
If so, then it was a hell of a risk. I could have been one of Salem's agents if only I wasn't such a failure. He trusted too easily in any case that was kind to him.
"If you don't mind me asking, uh- Mr. Arc, how did you get as strong as you are?"
It was Oscar this time and I was stumped for the question. I found my gaze flicking over his head to Qrow for a second who only offered me a shrug.
"What do you mean?" I wondered. "And it's just Jaune."
"Jaune, then. It's your mentality. You have this mindset that sets you apart from everyone else."
"I wasn't always this jaded. If you want strength look at Ruby." Emotional or physical.
"It's not that or at least not just that. I've already asked her too. She's something special. You are too, though. Even with the fate of the world as it is, you still train day in and day out and do everything you have to, even if it hurts you. You've even killed people. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you're not afraid of the dirty work."
"It's not something to be proud of but Qrow's done it too."
"But he's not our age. Or your age, at least."
"I have to. I suppose. Or my friends, those that are still here, will bite it too. That keeps me going. What's left of my team and Ruby's team too."
"Can you teach me?"
"How to have friends? Haven't got a clue. Sorry."
"Not that. I need somebody to teach me swordsmanship. How to use my weapon. Or start to until Qrow is back up."
Qrow gave an enormous sigh from the chair. For my part I hesitated again. I wasn't the sort, didn't have the training myself. But this was one of those things I wasn't sure I could say no to.
The right thing to do would be to teach him. Pyrrha would want me to. Ruby might even ask me to. That pretty much sealed it.
"I won't take it easy on you." I drew the long sword and posited the cross shaped shield on my back. "Can't afford to."
"Really? That's fantastic! I was worried you didn't like me. Wait is this one of those things where you mean right now?"
"Why? Are you too busy?" I mocked him. He took it as friendly teasing. And it was, at least to some degree. The kid was not Ozpin. Not yet.
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There was something in the basement. In the tall white house in the middle of the woods where my sisters and I lived with our mother something definitely lurked away in the dark dusty corners of the underside of our house.
I had to be the brave one. I was the oldest. I was a guy. It was time to be a man. It was time to stop being afraid of the shadows which hung on the walls under soft grey lights.
I’d been in the basement a thousand times and I’d been fine literally every time. But still I was afraid of our basement. I was scared of shutting the lights off and walking up the stairs and turning my back on that total darkness. It was just so empty and complete.
No lights penetrated within and the lights which did shine in the basement were dull and weak. It was always dark down there. It was always dusty and had the faint smell of iron or copper.
I went down to get a gallon of milk for my mother. A little errand for a big boy. It should have been no problem for me.
I walked down the stairs. This was the easy part. I turned on the lights and everything was fine. Dark still. But it was fine. There were no Grimm or other goulish monsters down here. It was fine, I reminded myself that frequently and with force.
You’ve been down here so many times and nothing bad has happened a single time.
That didn’t stave off my irrational fears. Just because I knew a fear was irritation didn’t mean I could suddenly control it. We don’t choose our fears any more than we choose what food to like. It was automatic. It was outside of our control. And the dusty smell of iron pressed in on me as I opened the fridge. The light inside the fridge was brighter than the grey lights of the round bulbs in the ceiling. This was the easiest part. It was the part when the room was most lit up.
I grabbed the jug of milk from the shelf easily enough. There was no problem to that at all either. I was strong enough for this. I turned around. I saw little Lily standing in the stairs by the door. Her eyes bulged in their sockets and grew strangely to cover most of her face in a distorted wave like fashion. Her nose and lips and ears shrank and all her hair fell out. She started screaming.
It was a high pitched wail that made my bones and ears ache. Then she shut the door on me slowly and turned off the lights. I was locked in the basement. Alone in the dark with the cold milk jug in my hand.
I raced to the door and fumbled blindly for the handle. When I finally grasped it it was only to discover the door was locked from the other side. I retreated back into the room and dropped the jug. The plastic shattered and milk went everywhere. It coated my legs nice and cold. I crawled on all fours. I searched for the fridge with reaching hands. A square corner. It wasn’t here. It must be to the left. In the total darkness I found the fridge and opened it to get some light. To get some respite.
Inside the fridge was a skinless, hairless, eyeless thing. It twitched it’s head on it’s neck and turned towards me without eyes. With long limbs it crawled out of the cold fridge and towards me.
It grabbed me by the ankle when I fell back and away. It stood there eclipsing the light in its naked glory. Its limbs were much too long and thin and its body was small and round. It picked me up with it’s one hand and sank its long teeth into my ankle.
I woke up with my ankle humming with a vibrating pleasure. It hurt, yes, but it also felt strangely pleasant. I… I rubbed my ankle in the real world. I stroked softly so the skin slipped swiftly there. It felt good. But I was on edge with fear and adrenaline. The sensations combined into a luring grotesqueness that was a pleasant sensation.
“Jaune…” My mom’s voice whispered to me. I heard it clearly in the soft night. There was no buffer or noise machine. It was silent in the room Ren and I shared. “I will always be your mother.”
Sometimes, in the throes of a nightmare, when unseen powers whirl one over the roofs of strange dead cities, it is a relief and even a delight to shriek wildly and throw oneself voluntarily along into the where the ginning mist yawns.
I checked a clock. It was four-forty five. I could probably get back to sleep if I really tried or wanted to. I didn’t really want to try. I laid back in the bed. I deserved worse than nightmares for the shit I had done. I was becoming something of a monster myself. Five. I’d killed five people. I’d elegantly unmade and twisted five coils until they certainly weren’t.
I sighed heavily and loudly as I laid back in the bed.
I needed to get out of the rental and clear my head. I need to clear it in a way which didn’t involve shooting myself which was a touch more tempting than I was really letting on.
I got out of bed and got dressed quietly. I made my way out of the rental and onto grey Mistrali gravel. The upper floors really were beautiful. But boy oh boy were the lower floors ugly. In a lot of ways it was two different cities entirely.
The sun was yellow and barely peaking out over the horizon. Beams of course light stretched through the air and I breathed deeply. It was refreshing and crisp this early in the morning. I muddled my way along through a market square clearing. It wasn’t busy but there were people out. I walked past the closed bazaars.
A brown haired girl spun in front of me and I stopped. She had deep green eyes and a red ribbon in her hair. She had to look way up at me to meet my eyes and I stared at her for a moment.
She reached into the basket by her side and pulled out a little white rose. “Here,” she said softly. “For you.”
“A flower?” I asked.
“That’s right.”
I looked away from her. “How much?” I wondered.
“That depends on the customer… for you, no charge. Sound fair?”
“Why?”
“You look like someone who could use a flower,” she returned easily and breezily enough that I thought she might float away.
I reached out a gloved and gauntleted hand. I took the delicate stem gently from her. I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I tucked the stem under a strap of my armor.
“Thanks,” I managed.
“Don’t mention it. Have a good day, now,” she bid me and just as swiftly as she appeared she was gone. She weaved her way through the openings in the early crowd. I blinked after her. I was unsure if I really saw her at all but I had the evidence of the encounter pinned to my chest.
I made my way down into a busier street.
I took in the sights of the shops on either side of me. One place was selling those little miniature trees that you trimmed. I wasn’t sure what they were called. There was a jewelry shop next to it and it was still closed. There was a dress shop with something elegant and purple hanging in the window. I stopped and stared at the dress. It would match Yang’s eyes well enough. I glanced a little along in the other window and spotted a flowing red gown which I bet Ruby could rock like no other. It was crimson like the tips of her hair and seemed to have petals flowing around the waist of soft silk. Her eyes could make anything glow and I was sure she would look like a distant dream in this dress.
I shuffled along.
I was suddenly shoved aside as I passed a bakery. The window display confections shattered and a man stumbled out with a cash register under his arm. He bumped into me as he dashed away from the broken window. Inside the bakery some fresh smell was emanating and a fat man in an apron shouted out. There were other customers inside. It smelled of coffee and baking pastries inside. They were open early it would seem. They were robbed early.
“Stop that man!” The man in the apron shouted.
The man with the register under his arm took off down the street.
I activated my semblance with a flex of will and took off after him. My feet… Ren was right. I didn’t touch the ground as I pursued my quarry on a pocket of air. I reached behind me and drew the longsword from the shield. The long triangle shaped blade ran down to the far too long red handle. I gripped it comfortably.
I front flipped in a thirty foot arc that ended with me landing easily in front of the burglar. People gasped and parted around me like I’d made a crater and they seperated around the running man as well. He stopped running with a slide and stared at me with an open mouth.
“Drop it,” I leveled my sword at him. “You can walk away if you drop it.” I watched his whole body tense up. “Don’t,” I suggested harshly.
He went for a gun. I crossed the distance between us in a sapphire blur. I swung my sword up into his hand where he held the gun and collided with green aura. I knocked the gun out of his hands and into the air. I stepped in and shoulder checked him off his feet. Before he landed I swung diagonally down from the right, then diagonally down from the left, then across the bottom in horizontal cut, then one last arching upwards swing that flung him back into a wooden box. He crushed it and his aura dissipated around him.
He dropped the register when I hit him.
He made to crawl towards the gun but, still Limit Broken, I glided forward and took actual walking steps where I kicked the gun off to the side of the street and far away from us. I continued my march and connected my boot with the side of his head in a swift sideways kick with the toe. He fell back and slumped over into unconsciousness.
I stepped away from him and felt my glow dissipate. The power was gone.
I didn’t feel particularly good as I reclaimed the register. I sheathed my sword and walked back down the street and through the gathering crowd. I walked into the bakery over shattered glass which crunched under my feet. I set the register on the counter.
“Thank you, young huntsman,” the baker said.
“It was nothing,” I returned. And it wasn’t. This meant nothing to me.
“Let me offer you a croissant and coffee. Please. Allow me to thank you earnestly and generously from my heart to yours.”
I looked away from him over his head at the fairly crowded establishment. Some people had left but many remained. Some were still partaking in their coffee and pastries even through the chaos. Sure, most had stood up to get a look and were now staring at me and there was a line near the counter of people still mostly organized.
“Fine,” I agreed with a glance back down at the baker. “I’m in no hurry.”
“Thank you. Please, won’t you have a seat. What’s your name?”
“Jaune Arc.”
“Just a moment,” I watched him go behind the counter and pour a coffee and grab a roll. He came back over to me and put them both in my hands.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
“No. Thank you.”
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I walked back into our rental. The police had gotten involved and had had a few questions for me but after that I was free to go.
I ran into Weiss in the kitchen. She turned around and stared at me from where she was washing some mugs in the sink.
“Jaune…”
“Weiss,” I greeted.
“I had the chance to talk to Ruby,” she informed me.
“And?”
“Well, I still think you’re being self destructive. But I see why you wanted me to talk to her. She told me about you two.”
“I figured but couldn’t assume.”
“Where’d you get that?” Weiss asked. She pointed at the little white rose pinned to my chest.
I took it off my person with my gloved hand. I stared down at it for a moment. Then I held it out to her.
“It was a gift, I think,” I said. “Here.”
“Shouldn’t you give it to Ruby?” She wondered. She reached out and took it anyway. She held it up to her nose and smelled it. “It smells like Ruby,” she breathed. “Thoughtful of you.”
“It’s really not. It’s nothing. Besides, I don’t think Ruby is much in the way of gifts. She prefers spending time with me. She doesn’t want presents.”
‘Not even a single little rose as a sign you’re thinking about her?”
“If she doesn’t know I’m always thinking about her by this point I have no clue how to make it stick,” I sighed. “I mean who does she think she is with those tights and that corset?”
“She’s very good looking,” Weiss agreed.
“She’s drop dead gorgeous,” I confessed. I blinked at Weiss. “Of course you are too.”
“Oh?”
“Oh come on. Your entire team is? Ruby doesn’t have any idea but you know. You know that you’re good looking.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You knew that you were out of my league,” I said. She blinked at me. “We can talk about it. It happened. I had a crush on you.”
“I didn’t reject you because I was better looking than you,” she scoffed. “Though you’re right to say I am.” She gave me a small smile.
“Total ice queen,” I laughed. “I don’t know what Ruby sees in me. So shoot. Tell me why.”
“Tell you why she’s into you or tell you why I rejected you?”
“Both.”
“I’ve met a hundred guys who could actually pull off what you were going for at Beacon. You couldn’t even play the part well. You couldn’t even pretend like you were all that. It was dishonest. And you weren’t even good at lying. So you didn’t even have that going for you.”
“You would have liked me if I was good at lying?”
“It would have been something at least. You came at me with a big ball of nothing. You know it and I know it.”
“So what does Ruby see in me? What did Pyrrha see in me?” I asked openly. “I’m mean, come on. I’m not much. And they are both out of my league by miles.”
“Well. You probably weren’t coming at them with a fake personality. I can only assume that they saw the real you and they liked it.”
“Stupefying,” I confided.
“Is it?” She pressed.
“Little bit.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not much. We went over this. I’m a ‘big ball of nothing.’”
“Are you nothing? It sounds like you put your life on the line for Ruby.”
“Well yeah. I’m nothing and she’s a good person. What decision was there to be made in that? It’s no contest.”
“You’re not ‘nothing.’ You came at me with nothing. They aren’t quite the same thing.”
“Don’t bullshit me. You saw straight fuckin’ through me at Beacon. Don’t hesitate now.”
“I don’t know. I suppose we’ll just have to see what’s there and what’s not.”
“I’m telling you that it’s not a lot.”
“But it isn’t ‘nothing.’ Is it?” She leveraged down on me. She pointed her chin upwards at me as she said it.
“And that’s enough?”
“Enough for what?” She challenged.
“Well, ideally making Ruby happy.”
“It might be. Is what it is worth something? Are you valuable down there at the bottom of yourself?”
“Probably not,” I admitted.
“Well I don’t know,” she confessed right back. “I never got to see the real you.”
“You never wanted to try,” I fired.
“You never gave me the opportunity to try,” she breezed. “If we’re honest you would have tried that fake personality on any date I gave you. So why would I bother?”
“Honestly?” I asked.
“Honestly,” she agreed with an elegantly quirked eyebrow.
“I’d like to believe I would have surprised you,” I said.
“Is that right? So you want to impress me?”
“Always have,” I returned immediately.
“I suppose we’ll just have to see about that,” she folded her arms and leaned back on the counter. She had her lips turned up in a little smirk.
I looked away first and pushed my hand through my hair. I clicked my jaw closed.
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#rwby#jaune arc#ruby rose#weiss schnee#lancaster#whiteknight#jaune arc x weiss schnee#motion sickness#ruby rose x jaune arc#war of the roses#white rose#whiterose#weiss schnee x ruby rose
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