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mistydeyes · 1 year

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take a walk in my shoes

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summary: With the 141 boys home and relaxing in your embrace, you decide to show them a day in your life. A sequel to opposite occupations.

pairing: 141 x civvie! fem!Reader (established relationship)

warnings: swearing, mentions of tattooing (tattoo guns and needles), but like before all fluff!

a/n: i love our lil squad of civilian significant others and thought a sequel needed to be made for our faves :)

🏷️ @fan-of-encouragement - thanks for giving me some ideas for price and the florist!

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watching love bloom - price x florist!

Ever since you first met, Price had been a tremendous help with the management of your shop. You had been going steady for a year now, "10 years in military time" Price would say. Although, it was as if you both were practically married. Besides hosting dinners and communicating with the other civilian girlfriends (in a group chat called "almost military wives🪖💍"), you lived like an old, married couple. Together, you and Price owned a small cottage placed in the English countryside. It was idyllic as Price could spend his evenings on the porch with a smoke and you could tend to a growing flower garden. Price requested some design choices but overall you furnished the home with items curated for the two of you. Your house was constantly filled with life, a new bouquet always resting on the table, and many thriving houseplants. Price would always joke that the plants were like your children especially when you went to water some and even sang to them.

Upon Price’s return to your shared home, he could tell something was on your mind. The living room was a mess with written notes and sketches as well as many sample flower bouquets.

“Darling I’m home!” he called setting his things down. He wondered where you could be. Suddenly you came from the backyard with an armful of flowers and your phone balanced between your ear and shoulder. When you saw him, you almost dropped your trimmings but Price moved to you and caught them.

“I’m glad you liked the arrangements, I’ll have them ready tomorrow,” you sighed before the other person on the line hung up.

After bombarding him with many kisses, he reminded you that the flowers were wilting with the lack of hydration.

“Who was that before?” he asked as he filled some buckets with water for you.

“It’s a bride from London, she and her partner are getting married in town. Funny enough, they started dating because of my little flower sign.” you chuckled as you began to prune the leaves and trim the stems from your haul. “Ah sounds like someone I know,” he said, gently kissing your forehead.

“As much as I enjoy the celebration of love and business, it’s been a whirlwind. You wouldn’t imagine how many phone calls and test runs I’ve had.” It was no exaggeration, these last few weeks had been a living hell as you helped the couple make their final preparations.

“Let me help you out tomorrow, got nothing better to do” he offered as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist. “You really don’t have to” you replied but he could see the stress this was putting on you. “Darling, there is nothing more that I would love than spending time with you and seeing you at work.”

You and Price woke up bright and early at 5 am. The sun crept on your sleeping face as he gently woke you. After some necessary coffee, you and Price opened your shop. You went to work, grabbing buckets of flowers from the fridge. You loved the brides but this order was shipped to you from a farm, one currently not being met with the cold, autumn temperatures. As you trimmed the summery array of dahlias, hydrangeas, and cosmos, Price helped to move the never-ending buckets and took care of the growing piles of trash. You were in the middle of showing him how to assemble a bridesmaid bouquet when you heard the door open.

"Fuck, can you take care of that?" you asked as you glanced at the clock, the wedding slowly approaching. "Love, what did I tell you when we first met?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I am not a man for flowers" you both said in unison. You continued, "Please John? I have a list underneath the counter detailing the different flowers for occasions. You got this!" you placed a small kiss on his lips, knowing he would do whatever you asked.

He nodded and exited to the front. When he emerged, he could see an elderly woman. "Can you help me pick out flowers? My grandson just got a new job and is moving here tomorrow" she sweetly asked. "Oh and young man, I just need them wrapped. No arranging necessary" she continued and you could hear Price rifling around for your book. Miraculously through your notebook's guidance and some of your aesthetic impressed on him, he was able to help her pick out a colorful array of peonies, tulips, and chrysanthemums - a perfect combination for a congratulations gift. You made sure to shout out from the back that he should include some wisterias and eucalyptus as a nice welcome message. You caught a glance at the bouquet and you were happy to see that the lilac hydrangeas with the orange ballerina tulips were balanced with the magenta chrysanthemums and the bundles of wisteria and eucalyptus. You can safely say, the one thing he was a natural at was tying up the loose stems. You guess his training did come in handy.

As you finished making the final additions to your bouquet, you heard Price making conversation with the older woman. “Young man, I hope you have a sweetheart at home waiting for you,” she said as you peeked and saw him handing her a bouquet. “I do actually, she reminds me that there’s more to life than destruction,” he said and you could’ve married him on the spot. The old woman wished him well as you heard the sound of her exit.

As you exited from the back, you planted a kiss on his cheek. “What’s that for?” he asked. “For being the boyfriend and employee” you smiled back at him, admiring his face that shined in the afternoon light. “Might have to change positions soon,” he joked and while you initially thought he meant employment, you realized it was something else as a more than year later he proposed. Don’t worry, he let you handle the wedding floral arrangements.

two inked hearts - soap x tattoo artist!

Although Soap had his own home, he always managed to end up at yours when he was on leave. This time was no different but unfortunately, the short notice did not allow you to take off of work. You had two customs the next day and four flash works as well.

As you were enjoying your beer, you heard the front door unlock. Knowing who it was, you walked to the entrance and saw your boyfriend standing there. Although he appeared tired and a bit grimy, his face lit up when he saw you. He kicked off his snow covered boots and dropped his duffle. He held his arms out and you immediately embraced him.

After many kisses, you lightly punched his chest. "I didn't know you were coming home so early!" you said, slightly pouting. "Well is that any way to greet a soldier," he replied and you couldn't help but smile as you missed his loving accent. "I would have called off work tomorrow," you began to say before he interrupted. "Work doesn't have to stop because I'm home, lass. I'll just go to work," he said as you pondered this decision. It was clear, he didn’t want your busy schedule to get in his way and would follow you around like a lost puppy. "I mean if the shop and the patrons don't mind, then I guess," you said back, ecstatic he would see you in your element. "Until then, you're all mine, Bonnie" he laughed before picking you up and sat you both back on the couch.

After a rushed morning, trying to get the man to let you out of bed, you showed up to work. It was winter so to Soap's dismay, you were unable to showcase all your amazing tattoos. He did insist on matching outfits. So emerging from the winter cold, you entered both wearing matching beanies and winter coats. Upon your arrival, one of your fellow artists warmly greeted Soap and commented on how cute you both were. After some catching up, you went to set up your station. Soap followed you and watched as you got your tattoo gun and the inks you would be using for the first customer. He held your waist as you sterilized the area. "My beautiful artist," he cheekily said and you rolled your eyes.

Now you were no idiot, there was no way anyone would let him tattoo them. Although his signature mohawk made him fit in with the shop's patrons. Knowing he would eventually become bored after watching you, you left him with a sketch pad and pens in a corner of your room. Your first client of the day was one of your frequent patrons. They had decided on one of your flash pieces, a hand holding a bouquet of rosemary leaves, on their thigh. As you got them comfortable in the chair, you gave Soap a quick peck and began the process. You would occasionally glance over and see him drawing with a concentrated look. “From strong, protective boyfriend to a child in seconds,” you mumbled and earned a hearty laugh from your patron.

And so the day continued, you tattooing away and Soap drawing in the corner. He would occasionally ask you what the different needle gun sizes were for and how you were able to create custom works for clients. He even conversed with another soldier getting a bicep tattoo of a skull with snakes surrounding it. You thought the idea was badass, complimenting his choice. Almost immediately, Soap interjected to say his tattoo was the best compared to the one they were getting. Eventually, once you were done for the day, you walked to Soap to see what he was drawing. You snatched the paper and in return, he pulled you into his lap.

"Well, what do we have here, my tattoo apprentice?" you asked, holding up the paper. As you looked at each drawing, you could see some familiar faces. You couldn't help but laugh when you say "You have to pay the" with Price's face following the words. He even managed to draw what looked like a depiction of Simon underneath his mask as well as Price in a florist's apron in front of his girlfriend's shop.

Your favorite was the bar of soap he had drawn in the corner with a surprising amount of detail. "You know with this work and the fact they call you 'Soap', I would think you wouldn't be as smelly," you joked. "I thought it was cool at first, they all said it was because I'm good at cleaning house but I see what you mean," he said, slightly embarrassed. You kissed him gently before telling him it was time to return to your warm bed.

Weeks later, you texted Soap a picture of your new tattoo. It was the sketch he had drawn of the bar of soap. You had done it yourself, his drawing placed on your forearm. He loved it, proudly showing it off to the other 141 boys and anyone who listened. He even was sure to text Alejandro and Rudy a picture with the caption "mira el nuevo tatuaje de mi novia!". He did ignore the reply from Alejandro that asked, “¿por qué la chica inteligente se tatuaría una barra de jabón?”

translations: mira el nuevo tatuaje de mi novia! - look at my girlfriend's new tattoo!

¿por qué una chica inteligente se tatuaría una barra de jabón? - why would a smart girl get a bar of soap tattooed on her?

being the teacher's pet - gaz x teacher!

"You know the kids always ask about you," you told Gaz as you lay leisurely on his couch. It was a Sunday and you both were enjoying each other's presence before the school week. He came home on Friday and you welcomed him home with a cooked meal and his favorite bottle of wine. The entire weekend was filled with cuddling on the couch and catching up about the last couple of months. You laughed when he told you of Soap's girlfriends tattoo. You joked wishing he had a cooler call sign so you could get it tattooed. Since your first date, you both had established a comfortable long distance relationship but you always loved when he was home.

"I could make an appearance," he joked. As you lay on his chest, you could feel him laughing lightly. He would come to regret that statement as you begged him to visit the class the next day. After some convincing, he obliged unable to deny your sweet face.

The next day, you stopped by Kyle’s flat for some morning coffee. As you opened the door, you could see him standing by the hallway mirror making sure he looked presentable. You smiled, noting he was wearing the beige button-up and navy blue sports coat you had bought him. You suddenly felt underdressed in your green slacks and brown blouse.

“You look great, Kyle, let’s go get something to drink” you spoke and he looked at you with his charming smile that brightened the room. He took your hand gently and you walked to the local coffee shop. It was spring and you couldn't help but admire the new blooms on the trees. Once you both arrived, you enjoyed your morning brew as he sipped his tea. You wished he could stay home forever as he looked so relaxed in the early morning sun. However, you suddenly were reminded of the time and kissed him on the cheek, reiterating that he should be at school for snack time.

Once you arrived at the school, you went about your typical routine and eventually, it was time to begin your lessons. You went through your plan, teaching your students basic arrhythmic in the morning. As snack time approached, you smiled knowing you'd make your students' day.

“Alright, class! I have a surprise for you” you eagerly said. Gaz was on the other side of the classroom door, smiling as he heard your enthusiastic voice. “We have a special guest today who’s going to join us for snack time!”

With that, you whisked open the door and Gaz walked into the cheers of the children. He had two lunchboxes in his hand and your heart melted. The entire class wanted Gaz to sit with them so you decided to form them into a circle so everyone could enjoy his presence. You opened the lunchbox to reveal a variety of strawberries and watermelon, delicately cut into hearts. As everyone ate their snacks, one of your students asked if Gaz would be teaching them today.

"Well I'm sure Mr. Military Man could teach you some things while we eat," you winked looking at Gaz. The children were giddy with excitement and kept begging Gaz to teach them some military things. Not wanting to expose them to the horrors of his job, he simply taught them the military alphabet and assigned them all code names. He carefully assigned one to each kid based on their personalities as well as some stories you had told him. As you watched your boyfriend methodically assign the names, you softly chuckled to yourself. In another life, Gaz would be an amazing teacher as he was great with the kids.

Once snack time was over, you let the children know they would be doing some quiet reading before practicing some of their writing skills. Gaz sat on the edge of your desk as you answered some emails from parents.

You both then heard a child whisper, "Goose, can we swap books? I finished mine." Her friend replied, "Shhh, Maverick I'm almost done." You let out a small laugh, enjoying the subtle nod to the Top Gun movie.

"Goose, you can get another book from the cubby" you said as the other children continued reading. Looking over to Gaz you gave him a smile. “Thanks for doing this, babes,” you said and placed your hand on top of his. The moment was momentarily spoiled when he whispered, “So when are we going to have our army of kids?”

Upon Gaz’s next return from the 141, he found his apartment filled with framed drawings from the children. You had surprised him with it and all of your students were more than happy to participate. Each one of them wrote their names at the bottom along with their call sign. They all had one theme: “Miss Y/N and her husband.”

a purr-fect romance - ghost x veterinarian!

"How's my favorite patient doing?" you ask as you see Ghost with Earl Grey in his arms. Simon had come home just in time to enjoy the beginning of summer and the clear skies. He was dressed in a neutral-colored t-shirt and shorts, enjoying the nice weather you recently had been having. He even had put Earl in a small straw hat you had bought. You loved seeing him look like a little beach-goer.

“I’m doing well, love,” he said and gave you a peck on the cheek. As soon as he got close to you, Earl Grey tried to leap on you. “Well hello to you, Earl” you smiled as Ghost gently handed him to you.

In the last two years, Earl and Simon had become your home. You and Simon owned a flat down the street, a lovely commute for you to the office and a place of solace for him. When you began to furnish your home, you were astonished at how little he had in personal items and how much he had for Earl. Maybe it was due to all this spoiling that Earl had a clear love for Ghost. When he would leave for deployment, Earl would find his way to sneak in between you both in bed. One time Ghost snuck out of bed and was able to capture an image of you sleeping on your stomach with Earl resting on your back. Although you said you looked like a hot mess with your sprawled figure and crazy hair, Ghost treasured the photo and printed out a small copy to keep with him at all times. Despite this domestic life, Ghost would always insist on bringing Earl Grey to your office whenever he was home. It would be easier to just have you bring him in with you for his check-up but you secretly loved seeing your boyfriend in your office.

“Just a check-up and vaccine for us today, Doc” Ghost said as you checked them in. It was later in the afternoon and you had sent your assistants home as the only patient was Earl for the rest of the day. Plus, you knew they would love to enjoy the warm evening around town. “Actually, would you like to see what I do?” you asked. He nodded and you could tell he was curious.

You lead him to one of the rooms as you donned your coat and gloves of your own. You gently placed Earl down and went through the motions, showing Ghost how you typically performed an exam. You let him listen to Earl's heartbeat with your stethoscope and described to him what things to look for when examining his coat, ears, eyes, and mouth.

"Well I'm happy to say, Mr. Riley, that your cat is in perfect health," you smiled at him and you raised your hand in front of Earl to receive a high five. "Now just for that rabies shot," you said and you pulled out the materials from around the office.

As you drew up the vaccine, Ghost entertained Earl with one of the many ribbon teaser toys lying around. You laughed as you saw Earl going crazy for the thing. Finally ready, you let Ghost pet him as you found the best area on Earl's right hind leg to administer. Setting him on his side, your heart warmed hearing him purr gently into Simon's arms.

"Alright, Earl, this will be real quick," you said and you quickly administered the shot. Earl whined and Ghost tried his best, gently saying to him, "It's okay bud, the lovely doc is almost done." With that, you finished and allowed Earl to return to his toys as you cleaned up.

Ghost picked Earl back up and you closed up the office. As you walked home in the balmy night air, Ghost was clearly in a cheery mode. "You're so great with animals, when are we-" he began to joke before you stopped him. "We can think about adopting maybe another kitten. I swear if you make Kyle's joke about having an army of them, then you can live in a house with them while his girlfriend and I live in our clean flat." With that, he laughed and wrapped a free arm around you. You wondered how life could be so perfect. You lived with your soulmate, taking care of an animal who loved you both and got to end the night with long conversations over some tea. You smiled up at him, content with your loving boyfriend and his cat child.

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vampcubus · 17 days

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Your fabolousness Queen Ashi, it is I, poll nonnie or a nonnie named desire.~ just kidding you can call me whatever. Anyways I thank you ever so kindly for giving me the chance to share my tragic story and unburden myself. Oh and that phrase you like is a spanish saying. One of my favorites that i try to live by. I believe you could use it in this time of need, because though I haven't expressed it you have my support. As I said previously fuck dem kids. Best thing you can do sometimes is not acknowledge the squealing, don’t give foolishness a platform. There's enough of that already.

Now, I will try to make it brief, but I tend to ramble, so I may require two parts. But I'll try to get to the point. So, without further ado, hit it with the sad violin music or Sarah McClellan.

I must begin by saying that I do not receive much male validation... like ever. Which is strange because I have an ample bosom and a winning personality, but alas men will fuck a mcchicken sandwich but they won't fuck me. I have found however that they do fuck with me quite often. See, ever since I was a girl, I've been the object of cruel pranks where I would be asked out as a joke. Boys had no qualms using me as a sort of penalty of a low bar of attractiveness if you will and that remained through grade school. Thing is everyone said you will thrive in college and that happened to some of my friends, but not me. Even in college nothing ever really happened, and I was always more invested in the interactions than the men were. So I've learned to pick up cues and behavioral patterns to know when I'm being led on, or when they're waiting for me to put out.

This all leads to a couple days ago. You read that right. Mere days ago I reconnected with someone from early college through Facebook, a den of foolishness and evil. Being graced with male validation I was gleefully happy for the first couple interactions. I returned to my youthful girlish days of squealing when I got a message.

My grave sin, is I caught myself simping. *Simping* for a human male when I swore to myself and vowed by the queens Ruby and Teresa that I would *never* be caught simping for a man unless that happened to be Leon Sexy Kennedy in the fucking flesh. Needless to say, the man I was tragically simping for is far from a Leon. I wouldn't even consider him an Ethan Winters (less beloved but perhaps equally devoted lover). I decided to stage an intervention and request assistance in this endeavor from some bad bitches because that could not stand. No it would not stand. Homeboy was leaving me on read. Taking hours to reply. Sending single sentences responses? I knew the signs. I knew them well, I had not put out. Or perhaps he had realized that he'd drunk messaged me. Regardless it would not stand that interaction though only days brief would end by my terms dammit. I just needed some reassurance that I was doing the right thing, because a softer. Weaker part of myself kept making excuses for this fool. So thank you again your fabolousness, and if you've made it this far you are a real gem. I sincerely thank you for helping me remember my worth because Queen Ruby didn't get her face burned so that I would simp for a common peasant who can't be bothered to send a timely reply.

“alas men will fuck a mcchicken sandwich but won’t fuck me” TOOK ME OUTTTTT 😭😂

PLEASE I JUST GOT HOME FROM A HARD DAY AT WORK AND YOU GOT ME DYINGGGG /POS. “i wouldn’t even consider him an Ethan winters” DRAG HIMMM 👹

i could listen to you ramble about your life all day i am so entertained. your storytelling skills >>> i’m glad metaphorically kicked that guy the the curb cus you deserve better queen 😤 especially with a personality and sense of humor like yours.

#‧₊🧛🏻‍♀️˚⊹ ashi rambles #poll anon

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red-ropes-of-avalon · 1 year

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They Can Live In My New World Or Die In Their Old One- Chapter 9: But I Am

Summary: You are known among the kingdom as The Mad Queen, a ruthless woman with a large military. Seeking to take your rightful throne, nobody who has ever seen you has returned before, all thought to presumably be dead. Your strength is unequal. Ser Leon Kennedy is a knight sent by King Graham to ask for a temporary truce. Hordes of monsters and the undead rising, the kingdom couldn't fight two wars. But how does one reason with a Mad Queen?

Ada pushed you through the doors to the throne room before slamming the doors closed behind her. Blood was splayed over the floor and throne, coming from King Graham’s slashed throat. A middle-aged man with light brown hair and a beard was holding Leon. An old man with armor and glasses held a young girl with blonde hair. She was crying violently. “How good of you to join us Mad Queen, allow me to introduce us. I am Lord Simmons the Master of Whispers, and my companion is Lord Commander Wilson. We have served since your father’s time,” the brunette man spoke slowly eyes eating you up. You leveled a glare at the man, he seemed extremely confident. “We are glad to welcome back the rightful queen, however, we must say the company you keep is extremely poor. Ser Kennedy here, well he thought to end the war it would be best to slit the King’s throat on his own. I wouldn’t trust him, your grace.”

“How interesting, because if I recall he said he’d be in the catacombs. Helping the innocents hide, so my army wouldn’t accidentally cause harm. How would he end up in the throne room alone with the king so he could slash his throat?” You paused looking uninterested, as your gaze flicked to the sigil windows. How tacky you thought. “Especially if he was marked a traitor since Ser Redfield and Ser Nivans saw him pledge himself to me last night. They rode for the kingdom to tell everyone of this coming siege and that Ser Leon here was a turncoat.” You picked at something under your nail, not even sparing the men a look. “Oh by the way, these windows are nothing short of tacky, ugly even, nothing like the majestic beasts that represent actual lords.”

“He must have slipped in while the guards were changing posts,” Wilson tried to lie.

“Then your guards must be rather awful. What do you suppose was the weapon, good lords? His sword and hands look rather clean if they were meant to have spilled blood from the king’s throat. Furthermore, he knows the forces I command, and he knew what sign we had for surrender.” Sure the last bit was a small lie, but you knew these kinds of men. Small men who think themselves far greater than they were. Eventually, they would crack, they were never as smart as they thought themselves to be. In a battle of wit, you keep them for a long while. Long enough for either your dragons to follow your voice to the throne room overlooking the great bay, or for Setanata to come join you. If they could weasel their way out of this question, questions of your father’s reign and murder would roll after.

Setanta stood before his father, a father who wouldn’t even use his name. He was getting pissed at this point. His blade rose up and crashed against Lugh’s. As much as he hated the man for how he treated him, he could respect him as a Lord. A well-seasoned man, a man who survived many things, illnesses that could wipe his children, wars that could take a Lord Commander, none of that could get through Lugh mac Nessa. “Stand down boy! Our Queen is getting her throne, I just need to ensure you don’t go rabid, you mutt.” That just pissed him off more though.

“I’m not a rabid animal Lord mac Nessa! I’m your bastard son! If it doesn’t serve my Queen’s goals I won’t do it! I am her proud Lord Commander! How dare you call her our Queen! You stood by the bastard who kept with the institution that kept your power! Before her, I wasn’t worth anything! Your only child that survived everything and you still wouldn’t acknowledge me! You’d rather the family die than let me be legitimized!”

“You have never been fit to be an heir to me. The mac Nessa name is more of a chain than it is a crown. It binds you to an image, you would never be happy being. You were always wild, a wolf true and true, the sigil was the only part of the image you met. You would be far happier being my bastard and never bearing the responsibility of being tied to high society. Never having to play politics just to ensure that there was some balance. Holding awful knowledge but having to hold it tight to ensure nobody you cared for would be hurt by the despicable men power attracts.” Setanta lowered his sword and looked at his father’s deep eyes. He had never seen his father as anything other than a Puritan for the old ways, not a man aching for the new world, to be free from the political game he was thrown into from birth. The game played his wealth and name against the morals he wanted and wished to be able to express.

Lugh lowered his own sword and patted Setanta on the back. Both men moved to sheath their swords, and Lugh sat back down in the pavilion. He patted the seat beside him, and Setanta obliged. “Lord Simmons, and Lord Commander Wilson, they had King (L/N) killed when he began to make decisions they were unhappy with. I suspect that they may have killed King Graham as well, go protect your Queen. You are a loyal Wolf, and if the old wolf dies, know that I am proud of you, Lord Commander Setanta mac Nessa.” Setanta took a deep inhale willing the small burst of tear back down.

“Thank you, Father,” and Setanta turned to walk into the castle. The sound of a knight’s feet clanking on the ground coming towards the pavilion had him hide behind the wall quickly. The knight walked toward Lugh, and sat beside him. Lugh seemed to be laughing as the knight looked on confused.

“What did the Lord Commander order? He must be rather nervous if my suspicions are true.” The knight spoke not a word, some nameless kid probably promised a high promotion and drew his sword. Lugh laughed once more hearty and no longer covering for some stupid political game, not the Master of Coin, or Lord mac Nessa, just Lugh laughing at his fate. The kid swiftly cut the old man’s head off and grabbed it off the floor. Taking off the way he came, and Setanta cursed under his breath. Twice Kingslayers, thrice fatherslayers. He followed the knight quietly on his feet, he didn’t know the palace. Better to keep the bastard with his father’s head in eyesight.

You had succeeded in pissing off the Lords. You were too smart a woman for them, too clever, too sharp-tongued. “So in short, you expect me to believe, a useless drunk who was upset with a decision the king made, that didn’t even affect him, managed to get into the throne room here, murder my father, and all without a single guard, who you claimed to have posted at all times, noticing that a drunk as a skunk commoner had not only gotten into the castle during high tide via the bay entrance to the catacombs but also murdered their king?” Leon watched with pointed interest. You were way too good at pissing them off, keeping them talking, and ignorant of the surroundings. He had heard the soft sounds of the dragons moving along the walls, positioning themselves outside the awful metal sigils.

“I suppose we could be wrong about some details. But your Grace, the throne is yours now. What do you suppose we should do with these miscreants? The Kingslayer and his brat.” Wilson responded trying to ignore the uneasy feeling welling up.

“I think you and I both know, this good and honorable man is no kingslayer. But you two, you’re seasoned kingslayers by now.” You shot the men a dark look and dragged a finger up to the middle of your lips, hushing the two who now had dark faces. “See I can tell you, that man while he may have done the act, didn’t make the plan. See as much as it pains me to think this way, he was simply too drunk to even form a cognizant thought, much less manage to plan to kill a king. See I think my father started to displease you, so you decided he needed to go. But like the small small men you are, you couldn’t do it yourselves. So you got a scapegoat, who you could blame instead, and take your fall. And whenever anyone looked too deep into it, you had them killed, or you Master of Whispers, you took their tongue. Oh, I know all about that, yes a few of my girls were once victims of yours. You really are a small man, Simmons, you don’t even deserve the title of Lord. Now it looks like you did it all over again because you two fools thought a woman like myself would be easy to fool. So I will tell you now, release these two and you may not be granted a cruel death.” Soft claps were heard from the side and in a small corridor, Setanta stood leaning against the wall, a freshly decapitated head in one hand and in the other Lugh’s.

“You are so brilliant your grace. Well deducted my Queen! These men, they even had my father killed for figuring it out. So release the pretty boy and the girl, your little charade it’s up.” Simmons removed his hands from Leon, pushing him towards the door. You caught him, spinning, causing your back to face the men. Wilson released Sherry towards you as well. You brushed your hand over Leon’s face to check for injuries. Simmons's hands reached for the dagger once more, grasping it and steadily moving towards your back. Setanta’s eyes flicked towards the hidden hand and his stomach dropped. He moved quickly to block your back, and the dagger ended up embedded in his shoulder, the pain dropping him to the ground. You spun quickly, eyes gleaming with hatred.

“I’ve had enough of you, you old fool,” you removed one of the long sharp spines from the dragon scales on your shoulder. Simmons was caught off guard and in that brief moment, you dug it into the side of his ribs. He doubled over in pain, and Wilson raised his hands. Even in armor, he wasn't going to win against you, the only person to ever outsmart Simmons. “Leon help bring them to the dungeon. I’ll stay with Setanta until the forces return. They will be a demonstration, the old regime of these disgusting men is over, and my reign, a good and just reign will begin.” Onraxes and Moonfyre let out giant roars from the top of the castle. You had won, and the rule of the dragons would begin once more.

“My dear subjects, many of you do not know me. The real me, I am no Mad Queen, those are rumors propagated by these two Kingslayers. My father was the late King (L/N), and I am Queen (Y/N) (L/N), the Unbowed and Unbroken, and the Empress of Dragons. The men before me had my father killed, and now have killed your king, King Graham. These two shall answer for the injustice they have done, to all of us. I am here to break the cycle, for too long men who have high names have used it to oppress others, the commoners specifically. That ends with me, never again will an evil man like these two use that as a way to oppress the small folk. I will always champion you, for what is a ruler without love for her people and the love of her people? Today I would like to bring you all into our tradition, my dragons here are dispensers of justice. Today we begin the sacred cinder lands here, before the castle. Ashes are sacred and cleansing, the cinder lands are our celebration. I do not need you to accept it but I would be overjoyed if you did.” You turned from the citizens who had gathered and now faced the bound men. “Former Lord Simmons, Former Lord Commander Wilson, you are charged with treason on three accounts- one for my father, one for King Graham, and one for me. You are charged with murder on three accounts- one for my father, one for King Graham, and the final one is for Lord Lugh mac Nessa. There are numerous others, however, these charges are enough. I sentence you to die,” your fist gripped tight. Moonfyre and Onraxes opened their maws and flames spewed on the land they stood scorching the bodies. Despite the hesitancy of many knights, there was an overwhelming cheer from the citizens, your citizens.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon x y/n

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annaphoenix1994 · 6 months

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Ch.131 - Desperate Approval

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

Graves has unfinished business; Kiera's brother makes a visit and seeks advice from the only person who he knows won't lie to him.

“You know, Phil, I was beginning to think this day would never happen.” Tokala sighed, watching at Phil willingly signed the contract he and Tokala agreed upon.

“Consider it one of the best Monday’s to date,” Phil chuckled. “Wyoming has… certainly left its mark on me.”

“I see that,” Tokala smirked, taking the pen Phil had handed to him before signing his name on the dotted line. “Bring the check.”

“Wow, now I wish a big check like that would fit into my wallet!”

“It’s a big day, Phil. For both of us. Grab this end here and I’ll grab the other. We’ll present it to the press.”

“What’re we waiting for?”

“Bring them in, please.”

Tokala’s assistant nodded, her heels clanking against the hardwood floor before opening the office door to four members of the local press, all of them flooding in to get the first photo as well as compete with one another to have their story published. “Our ways of gambling with our future is over,” Tokala spoke. “Working together with new partnership only elevates our progress of succeeding.”

“To mark a new era for your generation.” Phil added.

“And for all of Wyoming.”

“Where’s our next location after we get the casino and hotel built?” Phil whispered under his breath.

“Kiera Dutton’s ranch,” Tokala smiled. “One day at a time.”

“I’ll be here every day of the week.”

“No, understand that not only is it Monday, but I recall telling you to email me the proposal so I wouldn’t have to look at you again, that includes speaking over the phone.”

“Look, I just wanted to let you know about another place I found—”

“God, you reek of desperation,” Kiera nearly laughed. “How about you do what I told you and fuck off?”

The realtor sighed on the other end of the phone, “I’ll be in touch.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” She scoffed, ending the phone call abruptly before retrieving her vape pen from the drawer in her desk. Although she had quit smoking for almost two years due to her pregnancy and raising her children, there were just some days where she was damn glad to have had one on standby for when she felt she needed it. Exhaling a thick cloud of smoke, she nearly grimaced at the figure hesitating to even walk into her office in the first place.

Dennis.

“Boy, am I sure glad I have nicotine to get rid of the headache you’re about to give me,” She scoffed. “For a man with such a pea-sized heart, you sure have a lot of balls to face me right now.”

“I know it’s not a good time—”

“It’s never a good time when you come waltzing into my office. What do you want?”

Dennis sighed, “Look, I need you to put aside our differences, Kiera. Please remember one thing: we’re family.”

“Aren’t you entitled,” She breathed a laugh. “Suddenly, you’re family when you think you have the opportunity to take something that doesn’t belong to you? I find it funny because you never came around unless you wanted something.”

“I was busy, Kiera—”

“Too busy to not show up to your own father’s funeral? What a crock of shit. Or was it because you were too busy meeting your mistress in a hotel an hour out of town because you’re too chicken-shit to tell your wife you don’t love her anymore?”

You fucking bitch, he seethed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, still narcissistic I see. We owe you nothing. Daddy owes you nothing, and I owe you nothing.”

“Goddammit!” Dennis shouted. “I’m trying to at least seek some type of advice from the person I know who doesn’t sugarcoat shit. Can you at least be grateful I chose you to do that?”

“I’ll take that as a complement, but that doesn’t mean I’ll give you so-called advice. Lawyers and realtors like you don’t need advice, you ask for it just to get ideas. Daddy taught me a long time ago that a man who trades his saddle for a tie is no man. And boy, was he right…”

“Can you at least attempt to resemble something human and just… listen to me, because I’m not coming to you as a lawyer or realtor, I’m coming to you as your brother. I need guidance, Kiera.”

“How’re you trying to sweep the ranch out from under me this time? Because your little partnership with Jenkins is far out the window.”

“It’s not about that, Kiera,” Dennis huffed. “This is about my campaign—”

“Oh, you’re suddenly running for office now because the lawyer life didn’t suit you?” She scoffed. “How’re you going to run for office when you don’t have a solid campaign?”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Have you not learned anything? Politics get you nowhere, only a constant curtain draw and a bad name because everyone somewhere will always hate you.”

“I already have people who hate me—”

“Finally something you’ve said I agree with.” She mumbled, seeking another long drag from her vape pen, sincerely missing the taste of her preferred flavor: pink lemonade.

Dennis huffed before removing a folded newspaper from the breast pocket of his coat, “Look. This is my donor.” He said, pointing to the photo of Tokala and Phil that was taken after the signing of their contract earlier the same morning.

“Eh, you don’t have the same skin tone as him,” Kiera shook her head, referring to Tokala. “As far as Phil, I’d believe it. You both are conniving and just as greedy—”

“Grow up, Kiera, fuck! I really hope your kids don’t turn out like you one day—”

“Oh, I hope they do because they’d protect the ranch with as much force as Simon and I have. They won’t lack a backbone like you, Dennis. You want me to grow up? Fine, sit down and make sure your big boy pants fit because here it is: you’re not a politician, got it? As much as I’m sure you think you can, politicians believe they can manage people’s lives just how they want, the best politicians are liars and narcissists. Although I will say you fit in the same category, a real politician will always be better than you at it because they don’t need practice. They’re committed to doing anything to sit behind that desk. You aren’t that, so I’d withdraw if I were you because not only will you ruin this family more than you already have, you’ll end up ruining this whole damn state. You can’t even tell me what you are, Dennis. You’ve always been the one to look for a way into other people’s lives. You smell of the desperate desire for approval and you’ve got their noses all over you. They will rip you up and shred you apart, then it won’t be just you trying to take the ranch.”

“What should I do, then?”

“Think about your wife, hell, even your mistress. Put them first before yourself. You do what’s best for them and you’d be surprised how much you accomplish on your own.”

Dennis looked to the floor, shaking his leg impatiently. I can’t attack her, I need to attack him. There’s nothing left of her to attack.

“I wasn’t trying to take the ranch, Kiera. I hope you know that.”

She scoffed, “You know, you’ve grown to the habit of lying so much that you’re almost a politician.”

“The issue is that they’ve already secured the land,” Phillip sighed on the other end of the phone, talking to his trusted long-time friend as well as brother in arms, Ben Carbonell. “Jenkins has been keeping me in the loop. I know he hasn’t asked for my help yet, but I know if I have you on the inside, I’ll release the big bad wolf when the time comes, you got me?”

“Do they hold the deed, Graves?” Ben sighed, swallowing a gulp of coffee while he sat back at his desk.

“Not clear that I know of. Haven’t talked to Jenkins since this morning. I can find out, though.”

“These are things I need to know before you call, Graves. Don’t you have some desert to blow up?”

Graves chuckled, “Did that yesterday. I’ll be coming home soon enough. Just don’t know when.”

“Well, I can’t stop this Jenkins and Indian fellow if I don’t have information. For a man who’s been so good at recon, you sure failed at giving me any.”

“Forgive me for being on duty and trying to play both sides at the same time,” Graves scoffed. “I have business to attend to on both sides and by what Jenkins is doing, it’s getting me one step closer to my enemy.”

“Oh, so this is a revenge mission now, is it?”

“Not exactly, but it’ll be one when the time comes. For now, you just do what you do best: run your mouth and do your job. Remember where your bonuses come from.”

“That old bastard Shepherd taught you well,” Ben scoffed. “Too bad he’s dead and can’t knock some more bullshit in your head.”

“Yeah, you know who killed him right?”

“Who, Mr. TMZ?”

“Kiera Dutton.”

“C.I.A officer?”

“The same bitch who told you to go fuck yourself when you tried to hit on her on base that year, remember?”

Ben smirked, putting his phone on speaker before retrieving a cigarette from his shirt pocket. “I couldn’t help to complement the fine art of her perfect ass. But yes, I remember.”

“Well, she ain’t got it no more. Punched out a couple of kids, so you can have at it. Sure she’s more of a handful now that she’s got raging hormones.”

Ben murmured a hmph at the thought, “We’ll see about that. I’ll do some digging on this. You keep bustin’ ass over there – wherever the hell you are.”

“Will do, sir. I’ll check in by Friday. Sure is fun to play both sides, huh?”

“It’s only fun when you can play each side well, that’s why you called me.” Ben laughed, satisfied that Graves had hung up before Ben even got the chance, shaking his head before he continued to read through his morning paper, taking a quick glance at the front page. “A casino and hotel not even an hour from the Tetons?” He spoke to himself. “I have to figure out who the fuck this guy is.”

#simonghostriley #simonriley #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty #callofduty #simon riley x oc #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost riley #simon riley x og female

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

The Conversation

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 7661 (Don’t come at me - you guys asked for it)

Warnings: !FATWS Spoilers!, Cursing, Fluff, Feelings, I Dunno What Else, This One’s Pretty Chill, Except The Ending, But You’ll See When You Get There

A/N: Here it is! I was hesitant about posting it because that means we’re getting closer to the end and I’m such a nostalgic bitch! I’m definitely gonna cry next week when the last episode comes out! Anyways, I’ve got a few things to talk about:

I think this is one of the most important chapters I’ve written and I’m excited to see your reactions to it. It is longer, but you guys asked for that, so you got it! Also, I’m loving the Asks, Comments, and Reblogs. I try to respond to all of them. I have work in a little bit, so I won’t be able to until after, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Ask me anything; about my series, the show, any of the movies, personal stuff, I really don’t care. If you’re not comfortable, that’s totally fine! Every like means so much to me!

I know it’s not the end yet - we’ve got one more episode and a list of One Shots to get through - but there’s a definite feeling of this series coming to an end, and I just want to thank you all for the support and love you’ve been giving it! I’ve really enjoyed writing these characters and this story! It’s very, very special to me and I’m glad I’ve been able to share it with you lovely people!

On that note, be kind to yourselves and others! Thank you again for reading! Excuse any mistakes - this isn’t beta’d! Enjoy and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT! (Sorry for the gifs I just love them so much and he’s so pretty and this part is technically two parts so...you get four!)

“Louisiana.” Bucky hummed, looking around the airport.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not gonna find anything interesting about Louisiana in here, doofus. Let’s call an Uber.”

“An Ooper? What the hell is an Ooper?”

You giggled, shaking your head and grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the luggage carousel. “Uber. It’s like…a taxi service. But there’s an app on your phone to get a driver instead of waiting for one on the street.”

“Oh.” He blinked, tilting his head. “That’s…helpful.”

You laughed again, stopping in front of Carousel 3, where your flight from New York was assigned. You went back to New York to grab a bag with clean clothes and other necessities, along with taking a real shower for once. It was nice to be back in the States, as much as you loved traveling. It’d been a crazy few weeks and you were ready to just relax.

“Do you think there were any problems with Sammy’s present?”

Bucky shook his head. “Nah. Especially considering they know who we are.”

You snickered at his slight grumble. They had had…problems at the other two airports - first the one in Sokovia then JFK in New York - considering Bucky’s entire arm was metal. It’d taken a full hour before they actually let you go, and by that time they had to give you a new plane because yours had left.

“Seriously. Who else has a fucking metal arm and has 1917 listed as their birth year on their Driver’s License?” You giggled again. That was also true. They thought he was messing with them. It wasn’t until you stepped in a few minutes after they asked Bucky to step to the side, seeing Bucky get frustrated, that they realized Bucky wasn’t pulling their legs.

“Well, we’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

He nodded in agreement, watching for your bags, his hand finding yours when he realized how many people there were. “Do you know where he lives? I didn’t even think about it.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. He invited me over once. I declined, but I saved the address.”

“He…invited you over?” Bucky frowned.

You gave him a look. “I’m sure he invited you, too. You just never checked his texts.”

He licked his lips, tilting his head. “Yeah, no, I know, but I mean…why didn’t you go? Weren’t you two just talking about how you wanted to meet his nephews the other day?”

“Yeah, but I had gotten a tip on Wanda at the time and I didn’t want to miss the chance that she was there. He told me it was fine. I still felt really bad. I could tell he was a bit disappointed. I think it was one of the boys’ birthdays. Or something. I don’t remember. Is that bad? Yeah, probably. I really should remember. Maybe I should keep track of birthdays on my calendar or something.”

“Doll.” You looked up to find him giving you a magnificent smile, teeth and all. “You’re rambling.”

“Oh. Am I? Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

He shook his head quickly, squeezing your hand. “Don’t apologize. It’s cute. I’m just not used to you talking so much. You kinda did on the phone sometimes.”

You shrugged, pushing down the heat crawling up your neck at his words. “I rambled a lot to Steve.”

“Oh.”

His face fell, making you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion, nudging him slightly to grin at him. “It’s nice to have someone to ramble to again, though.” There was that smile again. You were stopped from saying anything more when you noticed some kids pointing and chattering excitedly at a gleaming silver box coming around the corner on the conveyor belt. “There it is.”

He looked over his shoulder, dropping your hand and stepping over to grab it, lifting it effortlessly. You didn’t know what was in it or how heavy it was, but you were sure it felt like a feather to him.

“Alright. Got our bag, sweetheart?” You lifted up the duffle in answer and he jerked his head towards the doors. “Let’s get outta here, then. Call that Booper or whatever.”

“U-B-E-R! Ub-er!” You threw your hands up, following him as he started walking towards the exit. “What’s so hard about it?!”

He just gave you a little smirk over his shoulder.

***************

Bucky kept asking the Uber driver questions about his job. The guy was super nice and patient the whole time, a thick southern accent lacing his answers. Southern hospitality was no joke and apparently had no limit as Bucky asked about his experiences, listening intently and telling him his own stories of taxi drivers in NYC.

When you got to Sam’s sister’s house, Bucky, being Bucky, tipped the driver half of what you paid for the ride, thanking him for his time and energy, before getting out.

“You’re so adorable, you know that?” You teased him as you stepped up the porch stairs and knocked on the door.

He rolled his eyes, a tint of pink dusting across his cheeks. “He was nice.”

You hummed at his defense, the smile never leaving your features. After a moment, Bucky raised his fist to knock again. “Jesus Christ! Don’t fucking knock their door down!” You grabbed his wrist and lowered it.

“Sorry. I forget sometimes.” Bucky informed you absentmindedly, tilting his head to peek in the window. “I don’t think anyone’s home.”

“They’re probably at the docks, then.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “The docks?”

You nodded, gesturing for him to follow you. “Yeah. They have a boat, remember? He talked about it last week.”

“Oh right. The one he’s trying to convince his sister not to sell.”

“Yeah.” You confirmed. “I’m pretty sure it’s that way. I don’t know how far, but we can call the Uber back-”

Bucky scrunched up his face and shook his head. “Nah. I don’t wanna bother him again. We can walk.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “It’s literally his job to drive people around.”

“Well, yeah, but what if he’s got other people to drive?”

You lifted his metal knuckles to your lips. “Trust me, Buck, I’m sure he’d rather drive you than anyone else.”

“Thank you?”

Swinging your now linked hands, you gave a firm nod, letting him know it was, in fact, a compliment. “You are so very welcome.”

The walk was a lot longer than you thought it was, and you ended up on Bucky’s back after he kept complaining about how you “shouldn’t be walking this long” and you were “injured” and you “needed rest’”. You’re not sure how a shoulder wound affected your ability to walk, but you relented and let him carry you the rest of the way to stop his whining.

“You forget, you did pull your thigh.”

“That was, like, three weeks ago! Yeesh!”

You finally got to the docks, which were bustling with people. Bucky set you down and raised an eyebrow which you shrugged in reply to, before heading over to where you spotted Sam with a few other older men.

“How do we get it off the truck?” You heard Sam ask, pointing to a large boat engine part in the bed of a beaten up truck. Scoffing as Bucky lifted it up without breaking a sweat, you leaned against the truck. Bucky grunted and set it down, looking at Sam.

“You’re welcome.” What a punk. “Just dropping this off.” Bucky lifted the case and set it where the engine was previously, Sam coming to stand on the opposite side of the truck as you. “You can sign for it and I’ll go.” You snorted, shaking your head, making Bucky shove your shoulder - the uninjured one - playfully. “I called in a favor from the Wakandans.”

Sam looked at you curiously. You shrugged and shook your head. “Don’t look at me, Sammy. He wouldn’t tell me what it is. He’s all hushy hushy about it until you say so.”

Before Sam could reply, there was a squeak and hissing over at the boat where steam was coming from a few pipes.

“Sam!” You knew that was Sarah from pictures Sam showed you. You stayed up by the truck, pulling yourself onto the bed while Sam tried fixing the pipe, Bucky butting in to show him how to do it properly.

“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?”

You saw Bucky lift up said metallic limb. “Well…I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m-I’m right handed.” Letting out a laugh, Bucky turned around and scowled teasingly at you. “And what’re you laughing at?!”

“Nothing!”

“Well then get your ass over here!”

You rolled your eyes, hopping down from the truck as Bucky asked if Sam wanted help with the boat. You leaned against a wooden post, grinning when Sam looked at you.

“I don’t have any plans.”

Sam gave a small smile, jerking his head back. “Yeah.”

You jumped down onto the boat to follow him, looking over your shoulder and stopping with an amused eyebrow raised as Bucky introduced himself to Sarah. “I’m Bucky.”

“Ah…Sarah.”

“Sarah.” Bucky repeated her name, before walking towards you, a grin still on his lips.

“Careful, Barnes. That playboy Steve warned me about is coming out.” You nudged him with a smirk, ignoring the feeling of your stomach dropping.

He rolled his eyes, kissing your head as he passed you and Sam to go where Sam was gesturing. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re still my doll.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, falling into step besides you and lowering his voice. “Conversation?”

“Hasn’t happened.” You informed him through clenched teeth as he groaned.

Sam gave you a list of chores that needed to be done to clean up the boat, giving you a quick tour and letting you know where all the tools needed where. You set to work immediately.

Sanding down, replacing old parts, cleaning, polishing and painting over the things that didn’t need replacing. They didn’t let you do any heavy lifting because of your stupid shoulder, but you were still able to help.

Sam had turned on some music for you to listen to, so you danced around the boat while cleaning. Turning your head when you felt a pair of eyes on you, you smiled when Bucky snapped his head back down to the wood he was sanding down.

“Gonna dance, Barnes?”

He looked back over, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m good watching you.”

Rolling your eyes, you got back to work, continuing to bop to the music, fully aware that he was watching you now.

A little while later, you were repainting the edges of the boat orange, when you looked over and noticed Bucky playing around with a paint scraper…sitting right on the edge that you had just finished repainting a few minutes ago.

“Buck!”

He looked over, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your mischievous grin. Shaking your head, you waved dismissively. “Never mind!”

He gave you a confused sort of pout, before shrugging and continuing to fidget with the tool. It wasn’t until later when he got up to help Sam tear the metal plating off the edge that it came to light with Sam chuckling and raising an eyebrow.

“Sit in something there, Barnes?”

“What?”

Bucky craned his neck back, eyes widening when he saw the orange paint on his ass, contrasting with his jeans. You let out a cackle and he whipped towards you, pointing at you accusingly, although the small uptick of his lips let you know he wasn’t really mad.

“Y/N!”

“No, no, no!” You laughed, sprinting across the deck, shrieking when he grabbed your waist and spun you around. You gasped when he grabbed a paint brush and painted an orange stripe right down the front of your shirt. “James!”

“Justice, sweetheart.” He breathed in your ear with a chuckle.

You shook your head, wiggling out of his hold. “This is a nice shirt!”

“You should’ve thought about that before.” He smirked, crossing his arms. Your eyes caught sight of Sam behind him, who raised an eyebrow and the bucket of paint he was holding. You nodded with a little giggle, making Bucky’s eyes narrow. “What’s so funny over there, do - holy shit!

You guffawed as orange paint dripped down his head, Sam standing innocently behind him with the now empty bucket behind his back. “Samuel!”

“Oops?”

“I’m gonna kill you!”

“Try me old man!”

“Fuck!

“Doll!”

“Oh my God!”

Paint, orange and white since those were the only cans they had out, flew across the deck, paint brushes being used like fencing swords.

You found out too late that wet paint was a little bit slippery and you slid on a huge puddle, sending you, not onto the ground below, but over the side of the edge into the water.

“Doll!”

“Cher, you good?!”

The three of you looked at each other, stunned for a moment, before bursting into fits of laughter and you nodded. “I’m good!”

The boys helped you get back up onto the dock, Sarah appearing with towels she conjured up out of thin air. “Let’s get you into dry clothes. Do you have-?”

“We’ve got some. We got a bag.” You told her with a grin, facing the guys. “You two should clean up some, too. Sammy, you’ve got a little something right there.” You pointed to your cheek, his own having a giant white splotch from his temple to his jaw. “And Buck?” You sniggered, gesturing to the whole of him. “You’ve got a lotta something right there.”

“Ha. Ha.” He looked down. His top was practically tiger print, drenched in orange with white here and there, and his ass still orange as well. His hair, which had been plastered to his forehead, was starting to dry now, and it only made you laugh some more thinking about what a pain it’d be to get it out. For him, at least.

“God. Can’t even have a relaxing day on the boat with you two.” Sam jested once you finished up and joined him and Bucky, who had just finished dumping out some water buckets. Bucky had changed his shirt and it looked like they tried wiping their faces, but Sam still had small lines of white down his face. “How ‘bout a couple of drinks? Surely you can’t ruin that too.”

“Ruin?” You gasped in mock offence. “Sammy! I just made the day more…interesting.”

Sam chuckled, ruffling Bucky’s hair, which still had orange streaks in it. “Let’s go get some beers.”

************

You chatted for a bit, mainly you and Sam with you asking how Sarah and the boys were while Bucky with your legs in his lap, just listening to you two and sipping at his bottle. You had his hand in your own lap, wiping it down with a rag due to the paint that got on it.

“You’re lucky this is vibranium, you know.” You commented off handedly. “If it was your other one, it’d definitely get stained.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Bucky shot back with a teasing grin.

“Sammy’s.”

Sam spluttered. “Wh-what?! You started it!” You laughed, shaking your head.

Falling into a comfortable silence with just the water and birds chirping as your soundtrack, you downed the rest of your drink, which Bucky took as finished. “Well,” you moved your legs to let him stand up. He leaned forwards to clink his bottle against Sam’s and you stood up and stretched. “Gotta catch our flight tomorrow. Get a hotel room for the night.” Sam gave you a look to which you rolled your eyes at as Bucky set down his bottle and grabbed his jacket. “Crash, you know?”

“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

“Well I don’t wanna make it weird for your family.”

“Just stay here.” You laughed as Sam babbled on about how nice the people were here, grabbing the jacket Bucky handed to you. It was getting a bit chilly from the breeze on the water and the sun going down. Plus, that water was cold.

“But don’t flirt with my sister.”

You cackled at Bucky’s face, that turned serious, his head shaking. “No.”

“‘Cause if you do I’ll have Carlos cut you up and feed you to the fish.”

“Can’t hold back the dog, Wilson. It’s been stuck in a kennel too long.”

Bucky turned to you, grabbing your jaw and squishing your cheeks together. “You know what? You need to shush. You’ve been snippy all day.”

You just smiled as innocently as you could with your lips being held by his metal fingers. “You’re too fun to mess with.”

He pecked your nose. “As long as I’m the only one you’re messing with. I’ll be right back.” He let you go and spun around, maneuvering around the boat in a way only a trained assassin could do.

“Oh my God, please! Please just put me out of my fucking misery! You’re killing me, cher.”

“What?” You gaped at him.

“Don’t act innocent!” Sam huffed, giving you a pointed look. “If I have to watch you two make googly eyes at you one more fucking day with neither of you doing anything about it-”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh come on, Sammy-”

“Don’t ‘come on, Sammy’ me! And don’t come at me with that ‘he doesn’t like me back’ bullshit. If you think for a second that boy wouldn’t follow you to the depths of the fucking ocean, you’re blind as a bat, woman.”

You shrugged, pushing up the sleeves of Bucky’s too big jacket. “It just…hasn’t come up.”

He deadpanned, shaking his head and standing up. “That’s it. I’m done. You two are driving me insane. I’m gonna lock you in a room until you have the conversation that needs to be had the next time either of you does something stupid.”

“Yikes. That’s gonna be quick.” At his look, your smile dropped and you nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll…I’ll bring it up later.”

“Tomorrow or nothing.”

“Sam-”

Sam tilted his head, brow creasing. “Is it still Steve? Is that what this is still about? Because he’s gone, and he’s been gone and you need to get over it-”

“No. It’s not…” You sighed. “It clicked the other day. When we were hanging out. Steve left and, yeah, I might always love him, but Bucky…God…I love Bucky, Sam.”

The man grinned proudly. “I’m glad to finally hear you admit it. So what’s the problem?”

“It’s still complicated, right? I mean…he’s his best friend and I’ve never dealt with stuff like this before and-”

Sam’s smile dropped and he groaned again. “Imma head out. I can’t take this. Dumbass and dumberass. I swear to God.” You sniggered a bit as he grumbled, walking towards the ramp to climb off the boat, just as Bucky reappeared.

“Hey-”

“Nope! Not right now, Barnes! I can’t handle it! I can’t!”

Bucky gave you a weird look. “What’d you do?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Nothing.”

“Well, c’mon, doll. Sarah said she’s gonna make gumbo for us, whatever that is.” He held out his hand as you walked over.

“You’re such a city boy.” You teased lightly, taking his hand and letting him help you pull you onto the dock. You shoved the sleeves of his jackets up again since they slipped from the first time. “Let’s go get some dinner. I’m starving.”

******************

“We have the couch and a mattress we can pull out, I just have to make Sam get it from the attic-”

“That’s alright. The couch is fine.” Bucky waved dismissively while you nodded in agreement.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at you two. “For both of you?”

You blinked, exchanging a look with Bucky, before shrugging and turning back to her. “Yeah.”

“Don’t fight it, Sarah.” Sam peeked out from the hall. “They’ve got a weird relationship.” You stuck your tongue out at the man while Bucky rolled his eyes, dropping your duffle bag by the couch. “How mature, Y/N.” Sam mimicked your action.

“Uhm…okay. Let me set up the couch for you then.”

Once everything was set up, you and Bucky thanking her for dinner - delicious and you’d never seen Bucky smile so much, the boys having kept him highly entertained throughout the meal - and for letting you crash, Sam and Sarah headed to their rooms, the boys already having been tucked in for the night.

“Are you gonna sleep on the floor?” You asked quietly, sitting down on the couch and doing the things for your night routine you didn’t already do in the bathroom.

“I think I’ll be okay.” He sat besides you. “I’ve been doing fine the past week or so.”

You smiled at him. “That’s good. Alright.” You stood up and stretched. “Let me just make sure everything’s in the bag and ready-”

You yelped when his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest, shifting down to lay against the couch’s arm. “Do it in the morning.” He yawned, looking up at you tiredly. “I wanna go to sleep.”

“Then go to sleep, Buck. I’ll be right back.” He shook his head, his hold tightening as he sunk deeper into the couch.

“No. I fall asleep better with you.”

You rolled your eyes but grinned, settling down with your legs between his, your chin resting on his sternum so you could still look at him. He beamed, but you could see the exhaustion settling in, and he grabbed the blanket Sarah left over the back of the couch and draped it across your back, over both of your legs, before his arms crossed snugly under the covers at the small of your back.

“Dinner was nice tonight. I haven’t had a meal cooked like that in ages.” You hummed.

He nodded in agreement. “I think that’s the first time I’ve sat around a table with a family since the 40′s.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah...kinda makes me wish I had my own.”

“Your own what?”

“Family.”

You bit your lip, shyly avoiding his gaze. “You’re my family, Buck.”

A light kiss was pressed to your forehead, his fingers bringing your gaze back to his. “There’s no one else I’d rather have.” The room lapsed into silence again, the clock ticking on the wall, the low sound of crickets outside.

“You have really pretty eyes.” You mumbled, tilting your head slightly as you studied them. They always held so much emotion in them, especially in contrast to when you first met him as Soldat. They matched the water you fell in, and you wouldn’t mind falling over and over into them.

“Yeah, well, you’re just really pretty inside and out, so I think you’ve got me beat, doll.” He whispered back.

“You know who else is pretty? Sarah.”

He nodded with a hum. “That’s true. But I meant what I said. You’ll always be my doll.”

“So you’re not gonna ask her out?”

He gave you a weird look as you traced his sharp jawline absentmindedly. “Nah, sweetheart. It’s just…some harmless flirting. Except on Sam’s part.”

You gave a soft huff of laughter. “Yeah…he’s gonna strangle you. It is nice to see you like that, though. Flirty. Relaxed. Happy.”

“You make me happy, sweetheart.” He hummed, nosing your temple. “The road trip helped. I’m learning everything from you. Maybe not the flirting, but the carefree part.”

You blinked at him, finger stopping for a moment as you thought. “Oh…”

You felt his fingers dance up your spine, making you shiver slightly. “What I would give to know what’s goin’ on inside that pretty lil’ head’a yours, doll.”

“I just think it’s funny you’re learning how to be carefree from me…when I just started learning how to do it myself.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded, your finger continuing its path down his jaw. “I think it started with the goats.”

“The goats?”

You nodded again, resting your cheek on his chest, watching your finger move up from his chin. Once you got to the end of his jaw, you lightly scratched his scruff. “In Wakanda. Our goats.” You weren’t looking at him, so you didn’t see the way he physically melted at your words, his eyes going soft, his lips turning up slightly.

“Our goats, huh?”

But your tired brain wasn’t really processing what he said, instead focusing on the features your finger was now tracing - over his lips, up his nose. “You’re pretty too, Buck. Did you know that? Inside and out.”

He craned his neck to kiss your forehead. “Go to sleep, cuddle bug.”

Nodding, you nuzzled into his chest, finger feeling over the bumps and indents on the dog tags resting near your head. You tried going to sleep, but you kept shifting, your mind not shutting off.

“Hey, sleepyhead, I’m trying to, you know, sleep.”

“Sorry.” You apologized meekly. “I just…I dunno. I can’t.”

“Are you comfortable?” He peeked open and eye to look at you questioningly. You nodded. “Is it too hot? We can take the blanket off. I know I’m a walking furnace-”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t know why. I just can’t sleep.”

He licked his lips thoughtfully, before cradling your head and guiding you back down to his chest. “Lay down, sweetheart. Relax.” He stroked your hair, moving his head down to rub circles in your back muscles, pressing down harder when he felt knots.

You hummed, your eyes closing. “That feels good.”

“Shshsh. Just go to sleep.” His lips pressed against your head once more, lingering a bit longer than they usually do, as you felt yourself drift off. You cuddled his side, throwing a leg over his waist, before nodding off, only barely hearing his words. “Attagirl. There we are.”

******************

“Doll?” You felt a shift underneath you and groaned, your eyes barely cracking open. “Hey, sleepyhead…it’s okay. I’m just gonna slip out from under ya, alright? Gonna go help Sammy with somethin’.”

You raised an eyebrow, letting him move you against the cushions as he sat up on the edge of the couch. “Sammy?”

“Yeah.” He bent over and kissed your cheek. You stretched out your limbs, about to rub your eyes, when he stopped you, kissing the inside of your wrists. “No. Not you, doll. Go back to sleep.”

“Bu’...’m gonna help.” You slurred out, looking at him with confused, squinty eyes.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Rest. You can help when you wake up again. Okay?” You mumbled out an “okay”, bringing the covers up to your chin and snuggling deeper into the cushions. “There ya go, cuddle bug. Good girl.” There was another kiss, one to your temple this time, before you slipped back into unconsciousness.

******************

The next time you woke up was because of a clatter in the kitchen. You yawned and sat up, stretching, eyebrows furrowing when you realized Bucky wasn’t with you. It took you a moment to remember your conversation, which you half thought you dreamt.

“Boys!”

“Sorry!”

You chuckled at the shouts, rubbing your eyes. “I am so sorry!” Sarah apologized, looking over at you from the stove. Trying to make the boys breakfast before school. Do you want anything? Eggs? Cereal? Toast?”

“Uh, cereal’s fine.” You stretched out your back again, before throwing back the covers and standing up, a little shakily.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Sam went, would you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I think him and Bucky went to fix something on the boat. I don’t for sure, though.”

Sarah groaned. “He probably went to fix the stupid water pump which doens’t need fixing. Dumbass.”

You chuckled, padding over into the kitchen. “Yeah. I just work with him. I can’t imagine growing up with him.”

“Trust me; some days you want to throw him in a box and send him out to sea. Bowls are in that cupboard.”

You snickered, moving over to grab a bowl from the cupboard she pointed to. “That’s how I feel with Bucky. Sam is less often, but when those two get together…it’s a full zoo.”

She laughed at that, nodding as she got out the milk and a few boxes of cereal for you to choose from, handing you a spoon. “That I believe.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

You started pouring your cereal, watching in slight amusement as she got the boys ready for school. “Bus is here! Get out the door! Bye! Love you! Make sure you take those extra lunches to-!”

“Yeah, mom! We know! Love you too!”

You gave a slight smirk as she huffed, looking around the kitchen at the pans and dishes left out. “Kids, huh?”

She gave you a smile. “Yeah. They’re a handful, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. How about you? Any thoughts of kids?”

“Me?” Your eyes widened, nearly choking on your food. “Oh God no. Not right now, at least. I don’t even have a solid house right now. My life’s too off the walls for that.”

“And Bucky?”

You raised an eyebrow as she leaned on the counter. “Bucky? What about Bucky?”

“Does he want kids?”

“Uh…I dunno.” You shrugged, clearing your throat as you remembered your talk last night. “Kinda makes me wish I had my own.” You quickly pushed his words aside. “He hasn’t told me.”

“Wait, wait. You two…aren’t together then?”

You blinked, your eyes widening again. “Together? Me and Bucky? No…why? Did Sam say something?”

Her expression morphed into one of disbelief, crossing her arms. “Sam didn’t say anything. You guys did. Are you seriously expecting me to believe you aren’t together?”

“We’re not! I mean - he was flirting with you yesterday-”

“Right, okay. Honey, that’s flirting. And it’s harmless. The way he follows you like a puppy and you look at him like he hung the stars? That’s feelings. And that’s a lot more impactful than flirting.”

You frowned in contemplation. It was really that obvious? You were really that blind? This whole time? You knew Sam knew - but you just figured that’s because he’s been there since it started. And Sharon knew for the same reason. But Sarah? The woman you just met the day prior and had barely had a conversation with?

“It’s, uh…” You chewed on your cheek, swirling your cereal around. “It’s complicated.”

Sarah didn’t look impressed. “Do you like him?”

“I’m kinda in love with him-”

She shrugged, not letting you finish your bashful statement. “Then I don’t see what’s complicated about it.”

And that was that. She turned to clean up breakfast, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You thought it was more complicated than that. I mean…you were in love with your best friend. Who left you. With the guy you had feelings for who just so happened to be your best friend/crush’s best friend. And now you were completely in love with your best friend’s best friend, but your best friend still had a piece of your heart.

But…you loved Bucky. And he was here. And Steve was not. And when you put it that way…you guess it wasn’t so complicated after all.

******************

You snickered as you walked up behind Sarah, the woman berating the men for not leaving the water pump along like she asked.

“Hi, Sarah.”

Sam shot Bucky a warning look, who grinned, but you were surprised to see Sarah ignore him, sending you a knowing glance instead, before turning back to Sam. “I told you specifically that the water pump was not the problem, and yet, here you are.”

“Yep, Samuel.”

You chuckled, Bucky shooting you a wink. “Yeah, Samuel.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at you, turning to Sarah. “In our defense, you were supposed to be done long before you woke up.”

You nearly facepalmed at his “defensive” and you were trying so hard to hold back laughing as she told Sam off, sending them away.

“I don’t wanna hear a peep from you.” Sam pointed at you, but that only made your chortles come out, and you didn’t even bother hiding them. “She’s a very mean person.”

“It’s tough love.”

You giggled as they started arguing, slipping an arm around their waists, their arms instinctually coming up to your shoulders.

“Oh my God. A prowess?”

“Yes, Y/N. A prowess.”

“You know, maybe if you someone let me help-”

“Hey, woah! You were tired! I let you sleep! I was being nice!”

“Too late now. I’ll be lucky if Sarah lets me within a hundred feet of it!”

“She got you so good, Sammy!”

“I agree with Buck for once! You’re too snippy right now! And c’mon man! Stop flirting with my sister!”

“It’s my natural charm.”

“Charm? What charm?”

“Ouch, doll! That one hurt!”

****************

“Okay.” You stepped out of the bathroom, walking over to the couch and setting the bag down on it. “I’ve got everything packed. We’ve got a little over an hour until we need to head out which gives you two time to go set something up for Sammy and maybe even a bit or training before we leave.”

Bucky frowned. “You’re not gonna come out?”

“I will in a bit. I just got a phone call I need to take.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Government call?”

You gave a mocking smile. “Can you guess what they want to talk about? It’s okay. I’ll survive. It’s only a phone call, so I can always hang up. Pretend I didn’t have good service. I do it all the time.”

“I’m sure you do.” Sam chuckled. “In that case, I’m gonna go grab some stuff and get the shield.” As he walked out, he made sure to mouth at you behind Bucky’s back ‘conversation’ making you swallow thickly. You were planning on talking to Bucky anyways, and with Sam’s insistence…

“Okay, so, I was thinking when we get back-”

“Can I talk to you?”

Bucky stopped digging through the bag, blinking at you in surprise at your sudden burst. “Uh…well, we already are, so yes.” He chuckled, straightening and crossing his arms.

“I wanna have the conversation.”

He was left stunned, once again, his mouth opening and closing and his weight shifting form one foot to the other. “Like…that conversation? R-right now? Are you sure?”

You winced at her nervousness. “Sorry, sorry. I know it’s kinda…I just…I need to talk about it. Now.”

“Okay, okay. No, that’s fine. Don’t apologize. I just wasn’t expecting it.” Bucky cleared his throat. “That’s all.”

“Okay…” You breathed with a small nod. You opened your mouth, but Bucky shook his head.

“I hafta say this first; I didn’t mean to hurt you by telling you about Steve. I-I dunno what I thought. That it’d give you closure or something. I dunno. But it hurt you and I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Buck-”

“I was jealous. And guilty. And mad. And upset. I still am. Kinda. I guess. I dunno.” Bucky shook his head, running his hand through his hair and all you could do was gape at him as he started confessing to you. “Remember when we danced? In Madripoor? Doll…I don’t wanna dance ever again if it’s not with you. I fucking love you, Y/N. And not in the way we’ve said it before. I’m in love with you. I have been for-for a while now. I just - you were Steve’s. Steve loved you and you loved Steve and that was that and I was just the broken childhood best friend. But Steve left and he told me to take care of you and I didn’t know what to do with that, because you still love Steve. I think. I dunno. And I didn’t want to break what we have because you’re all I have left of him. You and that stupid shield. You’re my family. My home. I really meant it when I told you that. And that’s why I couldn’t tell you. Because it means too much for me to break what we have because I fell in love with my best friend’s girl. You know?”

He looked at you with pleading eyes, begging you to understand, but your brain was still trying to process what he was telling you.

“Oh God…” He groaned. “And now I just told you everything and you’re looking at me like that wasn’t what you wanted to hear and now I’m thinking this wasn’t the conversation you were thinking it was going to be-”

You were moving across the room before you could stop yourself, pulling him by the teal Henley you knew was comfortable having worn it to bed before when you visited him in New York, and slanting your lips over his.

His breathing hitched and he froze, and for a hot second you thought you made everything worse, but then he was kissing you back and his hands were on your hips and he was pulling you closer and it felt so fucking good you didn’t want to pull back for air.

“Shut up.” You muttered when you finally did pull back, your forehead against his, your eyes clenched shut. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.” You pulled back to look up at him, chests heaving against each other, your eyes prickling. “I’m not good at this. I’m not good at opening up. I only ever was good at it with Steve but Bucky…I’ve been doing it with you. This whole time and I didn’t even realize it until the conversation in the car.”

He reached up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the relieved tears that were falling from the weight you were finally getting off your chest.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. How could I not be? After all that time in Wakanda? I was never Steve’s girl, Bucky. I wanted to be. Dammit, did I wanna be, but I wasn’t. Not really. And he’s gone. But you’re not. And I don’t know why it took me so long to see that. That you’re the one in front of me. You’re the one who held me when I needed it once he left. You’re the one that would listen to my rambles that I’m just realizing was most of our phone calls. You’re not just the broken childhood friend. Don’t ever think that. I don’t pick up the phone at five in the morning after searching for a friend until two for just anyone. Even Steve’s best friend. And I’m such an idiot because I’ve been pushing away my feelings all these years for Steve and then I let them out with you at the wrong time, because I love Steve, Bucky, but I’m not in love with him. Not since I fell in love with you. And I know it doesn’t make sense, but Steve was the first one I cared about and that’s just how I feel and I can try to explain, but-”

His lips crashed onto yours again and you could taste the salty tears that were pouring down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. He was holding you and he was kissing you and it was even more perfect than you thought it’d be.

“You’re adorable when you ramble, but Jesus Christ, shuddup, doll.” He breathed. “Just tell me you love me. Tell me you love me just a fraction of how much I love you.”

You looked up into those ocean eyes, your own shining with earnest affection. “James Buchanan Barnes. I love you.”

“That’s all I need to know.” He murmured against your lips, holding your head against his, still wiping away your tears. It felt like with each one that fell, you felt lighter and lighter. Like they were taking away every fear and anxiety you held within you for the past six months.

“Alright! I was thinking we could just set up in these trees out here - holy shit! Is it done? Did you do it? Did I miss it? Has the conversation been had?”

Bucky chuckled as you giggled. “He has the worst timing.” The last two words were loud enough so Sam could hear, although the man heard the whole sentence.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes!” Sam cheered. “Halle-fucking-lujah! Finally! I was that close to locking you two in the attic.”

You shook your head at Sam’s personal celebration, drowning the rest of his words out as you looked at Bucky, who swept his thumb over your cheek catching one last tear, before pecking your lips.

“I finally get to kiss where I really want to.” He spoke softly, kissing your lips again. “Are you mine, doll?”

“I thought you said I’d always be your doll.” You answered cheekily. He grinned, kissing you again, pulling you against him by the hips.

“Okay, okay! That’s enough! We get it! You’re in love, finally, but I don’t wanna see it anymore! Now will you come help me with this shit?”

Bucky left one more lingering kiss on your lips, before you pushed him away reluctantly. “I’ll be right out.”

He nodded, moving over to help Sam carry the things he’d gathered.

You watched them put it all up from the window, gnawing on your cheek as you spun your phone in your hands. Coming to a decision, you tossed your phone in the duffle bag and walked out with it just as the boys finished.

“That was a quick phone call.” Sam raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged. “Didn’t call them. If they really need me, they’ll find me.”

Bucky grinned as you set the bag down under a tree, pecking your lips when you got close enough for him to grab by the waist to hold you against him. You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully away and giggling as Sam let out a groan.

“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got, Sammy.”

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

Bucky knew he needed the tough love talk Sam was giving him. He needed to hear it. Because, deep down, he had known it all along, he just refused to believe it. He tried doing it. Making amends. He knew he wasn’t though. And of course he knew immediately who that one person would be.

“And hey.” Bucky looked at him. “Let me tell you what. Telling my girl all that you told her? That’s a good start. I’m proud of you. Both of you. You’re already happier. I can see it in your eyes.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as he thought of the gorgeous woman he nearly let slip through his fingers. He looked over to the house, where she was inside somewhere getting ready after suddenly deciding she needed to shower before they left. “I was stupid.”

“Yeah you were. You both were. I’m so relieved it’s over.” Sam nudged him. “Treat her right, Buck. She deserves it.”

“I know…I just hope I can.”

Sam shook his head. “Uh-uh. Don’t do that. You were just starting to use that cyborg brain of yours! She chose you. And before you say anything,” Sam cut Bucky off from speaking as he opened his mouth to object. “She chose you before Steve left. It just took her dumbass this long to realize it.”

Bucky nodded, a small smile on his face. “Yeah…okay…” Before he could say anything, the goddess herself stepped out, jogging over, looking absolutely amazing in her jeans and his t-shirt. “Good talk.”

Sam laughed at his quick ending of the conversation as she came up besides them. “Talking about me?” She asked cheekily, eyes shining. Bucky couldn’t help but take her under his arm, pecking her lips. Now that he could, he didn’t think he could stop. He was addicted to say the least.

Throwing Bucky a wink, Sam shrugged. “Just all the things that get on our nerves.”

“Ha ha.” She rolled her eyes. “We better get going.”

Bucky and Sam clapped hands. “You know Karli won’t quit.”

Bucky smiled. “Ah. You call us when you have a lead and we’ll be there.”

Y/N stepped forwards to give Sam a hug. “Anytime, Sammy.”

“Eh. Anytime between noon and midnight.” Bucky corrected. “Or noon and ten. Noon and five…you better just call at noon to be safe.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure.”

“Not necessarily as a team.” Bucky continued, grabbing the bag, getting Y/N back in her spot at his side under his arm.

“Nope!”

“We’re not that good.”

“Definitely not.”

“We’re professionals.”

“Definitely.”

“And, uh, we’re partners.”

Sam snapped, pointing at him. “Coworkers.”

“But we’re also a couple of guys with a couple mutual friends.”

“Ones now gone and you’re dating the other.”

“So we’re a couple of guys…with a badass to help out.”

“I can live with that.”

“Perfect.”

“Oh my God.” Y/N let out that laugh Bucky could never get enough of, shaking her head at the two of them. “You forgot dumbasses.”

Sam shook his head. “Nuh-uh. That’s your couple name.”

“Dumbasses?”

“Oh yeah.” The three of them came to a stop, Bucky and his girl - God he loved confirming it now - facing Sam. “Thanks for the help, guys. Meant a lot.”

Bucky patted his shoulder. “Of course.”

Y/N shot him a wink. “Until we meet again, Sammy.”

“Until then, cher.”

Bucky couldn’t stop his grin as she wrapped her arms around his waist, the two of them starting to walk to the main road where she already ordered an Uber. He looked down at her, kissing her lips for the nth time in the past hour.

“I wish I didn’t wait so long,” he told her seriously. “But I’d wait a thousands more centuries if it meant I get to call you mine.”

She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re such a sap! But…” she moved up to kiss him and his heart stuttered. He knew he had a goofy grin on when she pulled back, but he couldn’t help it. Especially when she laughed again. “I have to agree with you on that, Buckaroo.”

3K notes · View notes

omiscurls · 3 years

Note

Diluc, zhongli and childe reaction to their s/o breaking up with them after something they said, maybe after a week or so after they argument they think the s/o forgave them but they break up instead? I WANT THE ANGST

consequences

plot: reader decides to break up with the character after not speaking to them

contains: diluc, zhongli, tartaglia (idk how am i going to do this to my special boy but ill try my best)

warnings: angst, breakups, implied past toxic behavior

a/n: OH MY GOD THIS WAS SO HARD- I DONT HAVE THE HEART TO BREAKUP WITH PEOPLE

diluc

hopeless thoughts ran through your head as you fought with yourself about wether to enter angel’s share or not, hand halfway through to the doorknob. your mind hadn’t been made up just yet, you were still in between two very different scenarios - the urge to forgive him for his hurtful words growing stronger each day, as anger and other emotions subdued to loneliness and the feeling of a part of you missing, ever since the two of you stopped talking.

your mind flashed back to the exact moment when you looked into diluc’s eyes, always so soft and calm for you, forming a way of anger he never expressed towards you before. to the feeling you got right then and there that this man is not the same one you’ve met and fell in love with.

the process of coming to terms with that conclusion was as painful as the first strike of his angry glare, and even though he seemed to have realized the weight of his words right after saying them out loud, no matter how hard you tried, you could not erase them from your memory.

one strike of that pain, one memory of that night was enough to make you go through with your plan, door to the bar opening with a little screech.

it was like just another late afternoon, with charles tending the bar, knights and townsfolk filling the hot room, and the smell of alcohol traveling through the air.

“hi” you said to the bartender “is master diluc around?”

charles, busy with his work, quickly replied that he’s out back, opening a barrel. you nodded and went where his directions guided, pushing open yet another door to see the back of the man you loved, looking just as always from this angle, working over said chore. he didn’t even seem to mind the fact that someone walked in on him working.

“diluc” you said with a sigh, and he almost immediately turned around, tools falling from his hands and onto the ground.

“darling, hi” he replied quietly, walking over to you but stopping half way, eyes set to analyze your expression, figure out what was going on in your mind. “i’m glad you’re here safely, i haven’t heard from you in over a week” he added cautiously, as if weighing every word before deciding to say it out loud.

“well” you sighed again, once again going over wether you should actually break things off right then, mind taking pity on his troubled expression, tired eyes, on the obvious eyebags that were much more apparent than before, a sign that he didn’t catch too much sleep. “i had to come to terms with what i’m about to say”

he wanted to tell you he was sorry, he really did, but words didn’t seem to come out of his throat. obviously he was sorry, it was a bad day and he meant none of what he said, but you knew that, right? you knew he always cared for you and loved you… right?

he wasn’t the best with words, hence, the idea of apologizing with a gesture after you were done teaching him his lesson came to mind. a brilliant idea, one could never go wrong with a thoughtful deed for their significant other, just give him one more chance.

“and my conclusion is, we need to take a step back and… reevaluate things in our lives. i’m not saying this is the ultimate end, but what you’ve said, and how you’ve said it made me realize…”

you were making a good point. you were talking about your feelings. he should listen, but the only thing he heard was the blood pumping through his veins, and the two single words

the end

so there won’t be another chance? he won’t be able to prove himself? what do you mean, the end? the best thing that ever happened to him in his sad life was coming to an end because of him? but he was so careful, he treated you like his treasure, because that’s how he truly felt, like his lifeline, something he could never lose…

and all it took was one sentence too much, one glare too intense. for the first time in what, six, maybe seven years, his eyes began to water, as he blinked the tears back at a rapid pace.

“… and that was a shitty thing to do. i hope you know that. i don’t know if i had anything else i wanted to say, perhaps i did, but… that’s all. see you around, i guess” you mumbled, loosing confidence in what you were saying, taking one last glance at his lost eyes before turning around.

turning around from him, from the love of your life, was perhaps the hardest thing you ever had to do, and yet you did do it.

before you could reach the door again, though, a cold hand caught your forearm. your eyes met his, with just a glimmer of hope that he would magically say all the right words and somehow make you stay, you didn’t want to leave, yet knew you had to. if you wanted to preserve the respect you had for yourself, you had to leave.

why were you giving him time to say something?

his helpless gaze seemed to speak with a thousand words, begging, pleading you to not leave through that door, but as much as his lips did part, not a single word left.

he couldn’t say anything to hold you back, and you ripped away from his grip, turned, and walked away.

and just like that,

he was all alone, again.

he was gonna need a drink.

zhongli

tears flooded your vision, blurring every details of zhongli’s face, causing you to only see a pale color palette, instead of your favorite person, ever. maybe it was for the best, maybe it would make it easier, you thought, but that was a foolish thing to hope for.

even through the salty tears, you could make out his eyes, it’s glow never failing to guide you, and comfort you, now seeming to burn their way through you, through your body and soul.

“you’re stuck in another love, zhongli, we both know that!” you exhaled a bit louder than you intended to, the outcome sounding more like an accusation than a fact. “how can you ever say you love me, when it’s so obvious, and so apparent, that every time you look at me, you see someone else? you HOPE for someone else?”

you could only wish the words you spoke didn’t come out as a complete mess, because of those tears you were constantly choking on. desperation seeped through your voice, as the feeling of helplessness rose every time you looked at your lover and at the anguish, and confusion he presented.

how could he make this so hard? it’s not like you’ve presented some statement he didn’t know already, right?

you hoped your eyes would say all the things you didn’t trust your voice to. you hoped he’d somehow hear how all you ever wanted was to be enough, was to meet his standard, how it tore you open that every time he said <i love you> his eyes wandered everywhere but onto yours, how all his touches seemed absent, how all his compliments were truly about some other face, some other smile, some other kind soul.

the worst part was, how could you blame him? how can anyone, ever, blame someone for being in love, of all things? love was something beautiful, and once you’ve experienced it, you’re drowned in it forever, and don’t even want to see the surface again.

love is beautiful. when you’re the one who’s receiving it. love was beautiful, to you, too, when you loved how his wisdom flew through his words, how his kindness hugged your spirit, how his aura brought you comfort. you loved his eyes, you loved his cheeks, his lips, every single detail of his skin.

the love you felt made you complete, made you warm, until you finally realize the thing you should’ve seen much sooner.

that you were merely a mirror for him to look at someone else, someone long gone.

suddenly all the warmth you felt was directed back at you, burning you inside, making you wish you never felt it in the first place.

“aren’t you gonna say something?” you whispered.

his long fingers found their way to your hand, but you snatched it away.

if you fell onto his charms now, you wouldn’t be able to get out once more.

his breath hitched as he gathered himself to speak

“i want nothing more than to love you” he said, although quietly, it rang through your ears like the loudest of screams.

you scoffed.

“we both would’ve wanted that, then”

“and i’m sure i can, if you just—“

now, laughter was all that you were capable of letting out.

“zhongli, you can’t train yourself to love someone. and even if you could, then how do you think that would make me feel? like i’m so unlovable you had to force yourself through it to grow accustomed to a feeling similar to love?”

“that’s not what i—“

“that’s what it means! let it go, please, please just… let me go” you sighed, standing up from the bench over at liyue harbor that you were sitting on. the sun has begun to set on the other side of the sea, and you couldn’t help but notice, it would’ve been the perfect date.

“i do sincerely hope you’ll find someone who’ll love you just the same” he finally stated, as he gave up on trying to make you stay.

“why?” you chuckled “so i could make them suffer the same way you made me?”

tartaglia

(archons give me strength)

you found nothing but guilt, looking into the endless ocean trapped in his eyes. for the first time in forever, they glistened, but not with a spark of joy, like you always hoped they would, they shone a sickly shine, caused by a thin layer of tears, that didn’t dear to spill over his porcelain cheeks, almost as if afraid of making contact with the ruthless face of the number eleven of the fatui harbingers.

he could’ve easily been crying if only he let himself go. he would’ve been in tears, sniffing and coughing, but he just… wasn’t. he held those tears in the gates of his eyes, as if his life depended on it.

the guilt you found inside them, wasn’t his, but yours. you felt guilty, watching this composed, confident man fall into pieces right before you, crumbling before your sight. why were you doing this? you seemed to forget all those terrible things you’ve heard just from the way his irises begged for forgiveness and brows furrowed in inexplicable sadness.

but you couldn’t, no, this time you couldn’t.

“my word” you swore on dear life you’d burst into tears if your voice shook right now “my word is final. we’re over. and that’s… that’s it. you need to understand that there won’t be another chance.”

the moment his lips parted, you knew you were lost.

“i have told you so many times already, but i will say this as much as i need to, it will never happen again! i swear, on everything i love and everything that i am, i swear on life itself, i won’t ever let that happen again! you know i won’t! come on, i promise you, if there’s anything you can say about me is i do keep my promises, don’t i? darling, please…”

“promise yourself to heal and become better, first” you stated coldly, watching faith disappearing slowly from his fixed look.

“im sorry, you know i am, im sorry, im sorry, im so fucking sorry!” a scream left his throat as desperation took over both reason and self-respect.

“sorry isn’t gonna cut it”

“then what will? i’ll do anything, anything in the world, anything to prove myself to you. i get that you can’t love me, i understand that, but please, let me win your trust again.”

he said unnaturally calmly, compared to what he did before, and you got concerned immediately.

i understand that you can’t love me, his words rang through your head. oh god, what were you doing? guilt stroke again, right at where you felt your heart to be.

right when you wanted to turn around and leave, he must’ve sensed that, and pulled you into a tight embrace. not suffocating, as they often describe it, not toxic and desperate, but… as loving as every other hug you’ve ever received from him. as calming and grounding, even though you could feel his heart racing. he didn’t refuse for you to leave, he didn’t trap you.

you understood after a while,

he was saying goodbye. all the love trapped inside his heart seeped out onto you, all his feelings surrounding and engulfing you.

“let me promise you this” he whispered, voice shaking painfully “the next time i’ll see you, i’ll be a better man. someone you will be able to be proud of, someone worthy of both your trust, and love. i won’t stop until i’ll be enough for you to look at me without the disgust and fear you have now. i promise. i’ll be better.”

“until then, then.” was the only thing you were capable of saying before leaving.

as soon as the door shut behind you, you rested against a wall and covered your mouth with a hand, unable to hold your tears any longer.

you heard a cry through the door. so he does have some feelings left, after all

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || every client is different, with different needs; but this client is, in every way, exceptional.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (cnc), dom/sub relationship, ‘mistress’ title, pain kink, cockwarming, orgasm denial/control, use of a cockring, slapping, objectification/degradation, some angst and hurt/comfort, crying after sex, touchstarved!bucky

new parts posted on thursdays! join the taglist here

"And you can promise complete and total discretion?” the deep and husky voice on the other end of the line repeated, low enough that it was almost a whisper.

You laughed a little. “Of course,” you answered. Most clients were serious about privacy, but this guy was next level. He must be famous, you thought to yourself, or married. Or both.

But just as much as your clients wanted to keep you separate from their personal life, you would rather they know nothing about who you are. Of course it was always a risk, since nobody could hide their face and you had to work out of your apartment, but you did what you could to keep your job just that— a job.

You told your friends you were a consultant, because people didn’t question that. Sure, it was hard to keep up the lie sometimes when you got last-minute bookings and had to cancel plans, but it was worth it for the money these men were willing to pay.

And this new guy? He was shelling out all kinds of cash, on a long set of conditions. Including an NDA. You wouldn’t have given him up either way, but if the contract made him feel better (and made him pay more) then you were happy to sign it.

“So it’s all anonymous, then? No ID, no credit card…?” he pressed.

“I mean, if cash is easier for you—”

“It is.”

You were starting to worry that this was a major red flag, as if he didn’t want to be traceable back to you at all. It was almost a dealbreaker, until you glanced down at the legal pad you’d written his offer on and remembered that you couldn’t afford to turn him down. “Then cash is fine,” you decided, making a note to yourself to have 911 already dialed when he came by in case his aversion to ID was really about a desire to get away with something.

“When can we start?”

“Um, well the soonest I can do is tomorrow at seven” you explained.

"Great, I'll be there," he answered firmly, apparently about to hand up.

“Hey, hey, slow down!” you chuckled. “Can I at least get a name?”

“I didn’t think we needed to do names.”

“We don’t… but if you’re willing, I’d like to know something to call you.”

“James,” he answered after a tense pause. “James is fine.”

“Alright, James, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Upon opening the door, you instantly noticed three things about him: he was tall, he was big, and he was sexy.

You had sort of been hoping that his appearance wouldn’t match his voice, but it did, and it was going to make this so much harder. Maybe easier in a few ways, but overall worse. It was important that you didn’t get too emotionally invested with your clients.

His eyes were dragging over you like he was just as taken aback. Which was odd, because he must have seen your picture online before he called you.

“James,” you greeted. “Glad you made it.”

You stepped aside to let him enter, guiding him to take a seat in your living room. Before clients came by, you hid any signs of life and kept the space as neutral as possible, which was why the only furniture was the white couch he sat on, the black chair across from it, and a glass table in between.

You sat in the black chair and crossed your legs, noticing with pride the way his eyes studied your every move.

“It’s important that we have a discussion about boundaries and limits before this goes any further," you explained sternly, and he nodded slightly. "Tell me what you do and don't want."

“Uh, well, I guess I was just looking for… somebody who can administer, um, discipline… you know, someone who sets rules and enforces them. But could also be kind of, uh, sweet I guess, to. Not too sweet, just… not too mean either."

You smiled a little; he sounded right up your alley. "I can do that."

"You should know I… I have a… disability. My left arm it's, um, it's a prosthetic."

"How would you like me to accommodate that?"

"Just don't say anything about it, please. Treat it like a normal arm. And, uh, if you could ignore my scars, too…" he added awkwardly.

"Of course,” you nodded, “I would never want to make you feel insecure."

"Well, I mean, I'm not against degradation," he admitted sheepishly, making you smile a little.

"Right: that's different. Anything else you're distinctly not against?"

“I can take a lot of pain,” he explained matter-of-factly. “However much you think I can handle, double it. I wanna feel it.”

You could almost hear the words he wasn’t saying: I wanna feel something.

“Okay, we can do that. You’ve probably heard of the color system," you posited.

“I haven’t.”

"Oh." That threw you off slightly… how new was he to this scene? “Well, it’s traditionally green, yellow, red; like a stoplight. Red means stop. Yellow means proceed with caution. Green means continue.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“Too simple for me, in fact. I have my own version: ‘red’ will make me stop what I’m doing, but only ‘black’ ends the scene entirely. And then there’s ‘blue.’ That means you want more.”

He smirked a little; a strong show of emotion compared to his stoicism so far. “I think I’ll use that one most.”

“Just don’t be afraid to use anything else, alright? I’d never be disappointed in you for safewording, or even just needing a break.”

He nodded. “Can we get to it then?”

“You’re rushing as always,” you laughed. “I’m not charging you for this part. We have plenty of time— don’t we?”

“Yes, but—” he sighed. “You look really… I walked in and, I guess I’m just really looking forward to this.”

You almost would’ve smiled at the compliment but you thankfully suppressed it. “And what is it that you’re looking forward to? What do you want me to do to you?”

His jaw tightened as he looked away from you. “Um, there’s a lot.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Ropes. Strongest you have. I can buy you stronger ones if you need them, for next time…”

He’s already thinking about next time? He’s already thinking about buying me things?

“Alright, I can do ropes: wrists and ankles? Or more than that?”

He seemed a bit confused by that question. “Is there anywhere else?”

“Torso,” you enumerated, “neck—” you stopped because you saw his reaction to that, and it made you smile a bit. “Okay, so maybe the neck is something to try. Do you like being choked?”

“I… I don’t know…” he sighed.

“Have you ever been choked before?”

“Not… sexually...”

You felt your eyebrows rise, but didn’t want to press; a story for another time, perhaps.

“We’ll have to discuss silent safewords and signals so you can tap out, but if you’d be willing to try it—”

“Yes.”

You laughed. “Eager, are we?”

He swallowed, and you wondered if you shouldn’t have let your ‘dom voice’ slip out in that moment… but he looked so good flustered like that. He adjusted himself slightly in his chair and you hoped he was already hard. And with that thought in mind, you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing him further.

“Do you like being called certain things?” you asked, voice lower as you leaned forward. “How do you feel about ‘pet’?”

He almost kept up his poker face, but his gaze faltered at the same time he moved in his chair again. “Um, ‘pet’ is okay.”

“Baby boy?”

“Not really my speed,” he shrugged.

You slipped out of your chair and stood up, approaching him slowly as the click of your heels echoed across the tile. He watched you with wide eyes and quickening breaths.

“What do you like? Tell me,” you demanded, though you kept your tone light.

“Uh,” he paused, watching your hand as it rested on his leg, “I like… I like being called a good boy.”

You grinned as you pulled your hand away, watching him tense up with disappointment. “I can do that,” you agreed, lifting his chin with a finger until he looked at you with those beautiful, desperate eyes, “if you actually are being a good boy for me.” “I will,” he promised quickly, “I’ll be so good.”

“Mmm, I bet you will,” you purred. “So willing to please…”

“Tell me how,” he sighed as your hand trailed from his chin down to his chest, slipping under the loose collar of his henley and rubbing his chest. “Tell me how to please you.”

“Well, for starters, I have a name, too: Mistress.”

He sighed like the wind had been knocked out of him, but nodded.

“And if I ask you a question, I expect you to answer ‘Yes, Mistress’ or ‘No, Mistress’. Is that clear?”

“Uh-huh,” he agreed before suddenly correcting himself, “um, yes, Mistress.”

“I’ll let you have that one,” you frowned, “but further infractions will be punished.”

“Yes, Mistress; I’m sorry, Mistress,” he moaned, melting under your touch as your hand moved down to rub his thigh through his jeans.

“Now, just for fun,” you smiled, leaning down until your lips were nearly brushing his ear, “tell me what you want.”

“Please touch me, Mistress,” he sighed.

“But I am touching you.”

“Touch my… touch my cock," he clarified, adorably embarrassed. "It’s so hard for you…”

“We’ll get to that eventually. Let’s go to the bedroom first, okay?”

However good he looked standing in your doorway half an hour ago, it was nothing compared to how he looked naked and hard and tied to your bed.

Yes, the prosthetic and the scars that attached it to his body were hard to ignore. He had failed to warn you that it was metal, so you couldn’t hide the slight shift of your face when it caught the light; you hoped he didn’t think it was a look of judgment or disgust, because you truly didn’t think it was anything upsetting. Maybe the scars were a little worrying… but they didn’t seem to bother him now, at least physically.

But truly, if anything was distracting about his body, it wasn’t the arm. It was his muscles— no wait, it had to be his cock, right? It’s tough to call: on one hand, his entire body was toned and hardened beyond the peak of human conditioning, his thick thighs making your mouth water already, his chiseled abs almost making you jealous; but on the other hand, between those lovely thighs and curving up against those perfect abs was a cock that rivalled anything you'd ever seen before, with a blue vein running up one side and a drip of precum rolling down the other.

You finally sauntered up to the bed and ran your fingers over the taught ropes, pretending to ignore him watching you impatiently. It was almost hotter knowing that he could pull out of the ropes if he really wanted to. More than most, he was choosing to submit to them and to you.

“How’s this knot feel? Too tight?” you hummed, tugging the rope just beside his wrist and watching his hand move limply with it.

“No, it’s good.”

You stepped back to the foot of the bed and stripped slowly, peeling off your black dress to reveal a matching lace set underneath. You left your heels on as you stepped out of the dress and kicked it aside.

Turning back to face him, James looked like he was all but drooling. You could see in his eyes how much he wished the ropes weren’t holding him back so he could run his hands all over your body.

But you could tell he craved being denied what he wanted, by the way his cock flexed of its own volition.

You let yourself smile as you crawled your way up the bed and over his body, like a panther stalking its prey, and boy did he look ready to be devoured.

"Are you scared?" you asked quietly. He shook his head. "Are you ready?"

He nodded. You sat up as you straddled him, positioned just right such that no part of you was really touching him, and watched with delight as he tugged against the ropes slightly to try to get closer.

"So needy," you grinned, somewhere between praising and scolding him. Your fingers ghosted over his chest and he shivered; he asked you to treat his prosthetic like a normal arm, so you dragged your nails down the metal and watched his eyes flutter shut. When you pulled your hand back and left him untouched again, he whined slightly.

“Aw, poor thing,” you pouted as you examined him, desperation emanating off of him in an invisible aura. “Your cock is all red and leaking… it must hurt, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he groaned.

“What if I touch it a little?” you offered.

“Please…”

You traced your fingers lightly up and down his length, tickling the skin and giving him the least pressure that you could. He whimpered and you chuckled mockingly. “I said I’d touch it a little, sweet boy, are you not satisfied?”

He bucked up into your touch as best he could, causing you to pull your hand away. “Baby, please—”

You cut him off with a slap to the face, as hard as you could muster.

“Mistress!” he corrected with a whine. “Mistress, please… please wrap your hand around it.”

“Around what?”

“Around… my cock. Stroke me, please…”

“All you had to do was ask,” you grinned, finally tightening your hand around him and moving slowly up and down the shaft. His head fell back with a soft moan, just from that. Your teasing had certainly helped get him this worked up, but you knew it wasn't just that… he was plenty sensitive all on his own, apparently.

It made your mouth water.

"Does this feel good, James?" you asked huskily.

"S-so good," he whimpered, "please can you… stroke it a little faster, please, Mistress…"

"Hmm, not yet," you decided, feeling him tense up beneath you. "Relax," you instructed with a free hand rubbing his thigh gently.

You continued to teasingly stroke his length, never quite giving him the pressure or speed he needed to get closer to his release, savoring every whimper and whine and sigh from him along with the satisfying weight of his cock against your palm.

It felt like you'd never get tired of wielding so much power in your hand.

"Please," he sighed, "I need more…"

"You want me to stroke you faster?" you pressed, already knowing that wasn't what he meant. He shook his head and you grinned, leaning in closer but letting go of his cock.

Slowly, you let the lace covering your core rub up against his shaft, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. "Ohhhhh," he moaned, "oh fuck, Mistress…"

You grinned and kept rocking against him, easily feeling the warmth of him through your panties— meaning he, in turn, could feel the warmth of you. "How does it feel, baby?"

"Good," he choked out, "really, really good… fuck, I want more, I need more, please…"

"Are you my good boy, James?" you asked in a low purr. He nodded eagerly, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nothing. "Do you want to be inside me?" you finally whispered against his ear, letting a finger run lazily up his spine and feeling him shiver so hard it was more like he was convulsing.

"Please, Mistress, I'll do anything…"

You didn't touch all of your clients sexually, due in part to the fact that they usually wanted a lot more pain than pleasure. You'd only had sex with one or two of them, and it wasn't a routine thing. Before today you never would've imagined doing this with a first-time client, but to be completely honest… he was fucking hot. The kind of guy you'd be spreading your legs for instantly if you weren't at work and he wanted to buy you a drink or grab lunch. And he was here, at your disposal, begging you for more. How could you say no?

You pulled your panties aside and gripped his cock tightly to guide it to your entrance, studying his face twisted in anticipation before sinking down and watching him gasp and sigh all at once, somehow.

It took a lot of effort to hide your own pleasure when he was stretching you out so perfectly, but you managed to suppress the desire to moan and just smile at his fucked-out expression instead.

Finally, your hips met with his and you got to sit there and enjoy the look of dawning agony as he realized you were staying completely still.

“Move, please,” he sobbed, “oh god, Mistress, please move…”

“But I thought you wanted to be inside me? Isn’t this what you asked for?”

He whined and tried to wiggle his hips; all that got him was two hard slaps to the face.

“No whining,” you instructed through your teeth. “Good boys don’t whine.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whimpered, “‘m your good boy, I promise.”

“I know you are,” you grinned, “or at least, I know you can be. Show me how good and patient you are.”

Reaching to the side a bit without getting off of him, you pulled a vibrator from your drawer. His eyes went a little wide when he saw it, and you laughed.

"Don't worry, this isn't for you. It's for me," you explained as you turned it on, inserting it between your body and his to touch the toy against your clit. He winced as you sighed contentedly. "Fuck, it feels good. Can you feel it on your cock?"

"A… a little…" he hissed.

"I bet it feels good for you too," you posited, "but not good enough to make you come."

After a little pause, he nodded breathlessly.

"Good," you smiled. "I just wanna come with your cock inside me. I wanna know how it feels to get off with my favorite toy while being full of my newest toy."

"Fuck," he groaned.

"Do you like that, pretty boy? Do you like me using your cock, being your Mistress' dumb little fucktoy?"

"Yes," he sobbed, hips shifting ever so slightly beneath you as he sought more stimulation from your flexing walls. Shifting the vibe to hit right on your clit, you cried out— and he did too, at the feeling of you tightening around him.

"God, you love being Mistress' dildo, don't you?"

He nodded, biting hard on his lip until you worried he'd hurt himself. He moaned again as another jolt of pleasure forced your channel to clench on his cock.

"You're making too much noise for a fucktoy, you need to be quiet."

He opened his mouth for a second, but closed it again and nodded instead.

"You can do it yourself right?" you pressed, seeing him nod. "You don't need me to gag that pretty mouth?"

He whined but shook his head, keeping his lips pressed together.

That went on for a few more moments as you teased yourself with the vibe, hoping to draw this out for the sake of his struggle. Wanting to up the ante, you took the vibe off your clit and turned it off for a moment. "I think this would feel better with a little lube… will you get it wet for me, James?"

You brought the toy to his lips and he eagerly wrapped them around it, sucking lightly on the silicone with those pretty lashes resting on his cheeks.

"There you go, that's a good boy," you praised, pulling the toy from his mouth, "that's my good boy…"

"Yours…" he repeated weakly, "wanna be good for you, just for you…"

This time when you turned it on and pressed it to your clit again, you instantly gasped and felt your walls bare down on him; turning up the vibration, you actually moaned aloud and saw him wince. "Oh, can you feel it now?" you asked tauntingly. He bit his lip and nodded.

It really wasn't even intentional but you felt your hips start to rock, making him gasp as his eyes shot open. For a guy who had been begging you to move not too long ago, he looked pretty overwhelmed by it now.

"Fuck, I'm gonna make myself come on your cock… do you wanna feel me come, baby?"

He seemed conflicted, which was exactly what you were going for. You wanted him to struggle, just enough, between his need to satisfy himself and his desire to please you. "I… I want to make you come, Mistress," he finally choked out, notably answering a slightly different question than the one you'd asked.

You smiled and leaned in to whisper in his ear: "Are you afraid that if you feel me come around you, you won't be able to hold back? That you might accidentally come inside me?"

He made a needy little groan and nodded.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna help you," you promised sweetly, but of course as soon as he saw you grab a cockring from your drawer he changed his tune.

"N-no, Mistress, please," he begged with wide eyes, "I'll be good, just not that— don't put that on me."

You smirked and sat up, pulling off of him and slowly slipping the ring on his throbbing length as he quietly pleaded for mercy. He winced when you pushed it down to the base of him, his cheeks burning hot red now.

"Is it a little too tight, baby?" you cooed, grinning when he nodded. "Good."

You sank back down into him and let your hips grind on his, working your clit with the vibe and even kicking it up to the next highest setting. He jolted beneath you, clearly feeling the vibrations strongly now, and you let the view of his beautifully broken facial expression egg on your own climax.

"Mm, I'm close, baby," you whispered, "just stay still and let Mistress use you like a good little boy."

He made a small noise through his teeth but seemed to manage okay, even when your walls began to pulse rhythmically around him and your head fell back, your free hand palming at your breast through the lace bra just to add that last little edge of sensation.

"Oh fuck, fuck," you moaned, "that's my good boy…"

You shakily pulled the vibe away and turned it off, still a little numb on your clit but feeling your channel still rippling slightly with aftershocks; he seemed to feel them in spite of their subtlety, if the panting breaths that filled his muscular chest rapidly were any indication.

As slow as you could manage, you pulled your body off of him and sat back on his legs to stare at his cock. The remnants of your orgasm left plenty of lubrication to stroke it, focusing on the head which had turned almost purple now.

"M-Mistress," he groaned, writhing under your touch.

Amazingly, his cock was already flexing in your hand, and a growl of pride and hunger echoed in your chest.

“Oh fuck, can you come for me, James?” you moaned, pumping him so fast your hand was a blur. “Can you be my good boy and come right through the cockring?”

“Yes,” he sobbed, “gonna come, Mistress, please—”

“Come right now,” you demanded, watching his face instantly fall slack as he spurted out onto his own chest and stomach, cock flexing and pulsing in your hands as his legs quivered and his hips thrusted wildly.

And the tears were flowing soon after. You weren’t sure if it was sub drop or just the power of his release, but between weak sobs he whispered broken apologies.

“You did so good,” you cooed as you slipped off the ring and wrapped your arms around him, subtly trying to reach over to untie the ropes. But you didn’t need to; he flexed his arms and the restraints popped like floss. He embraced you in return as you let his head fall onto your chest. “You’re so good, it’s okay,” you continued, stroking his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated again, breathing quickly and wetting you with his tears.

This, you realized, is what he had made you sign the contract to protect. It wasn’t that he was excessively embarrassed about his sexual proclivities, but that this was his space to be soft, and weak, and broken. Apparently he wasn’t ready for anyone else to know that he wasn’t steel all the way down.

“Shh, it’s okay… you’re okay…” you breathed, indulging him in this moment even though it was more intimate than you preferred to get with customers. Aftercare was an important part of your job, certainly, but so was enforcing boundaries.

He began to soothe as you kissed his forehead gently, whispering well-deserved affirmations and praise. As his breathing slowed and moved back to normal, he pulled back and looked up at you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated one more time, but not as wavering as before, “I didn’t think I would… that was unexpected.”

“No, it’s somewhat normal,” you exaggerated slightly, “this kind of thing… it’s taxing, I pushed you to your limits. You were really tough, and it’s all very vulnerable.”

“Thanks,” he sighed, sniffling and wiping his eyes. “And sorry about your ropes,” he smiled as he noticed the frayed ends coming off of where his wrists were still tied.

“Let me help you get those off,” you smiled, loosening the knots and sliding the binds off of him, quickly massaging the places that the rope had constricted. “Blood flow’s okay?”

“Yep,” he nodded.

“You numb anywhere?” you pressed.

“Uh, just my dick. And my brain is all fuzzy…”

You smiled. “Can’t help the first one. Let me get you some water for the second.”

“No!” he yelped suddenly. “Um, don’t go yet, please…”

“Of course,” you smiled. “I’ll untie your ankles, then.”

He still seemed disappointed, as if he expected you to hug him for hours and never move. He let you go this time, though, and loosened his grip so you could slide down to the foot of the bed.

"Was that sort of what you were hoping for when you called me?" you asked as you untied the ropes slowly and took a moment to massage the skin underneath, hoping to restore any lost blood flow.

"So much better than what I was hoping for," he admitted with a breathless chuckle. "You're… really good."

"Well, thank you," you shrugged, "it comes with practice and experience. You held your own, too."

"I wish I could say that was from practice and experience. I didn't want to say anything before but I've, uh, never actually… been to a domme before."

You smiled slightly, coming back up and being pulled into another embrace. "Um, I'll admit I can kind of tell…" you mumbled.

"I'm not supposed to touch you like this," he realized quietly, relaxing his grip on you and pulling back. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright, just don't get too comfortable because we only have—" you glanced at the clock— "eight more minutes until you need to leave."

"I'll get up and get dressed soon," he offered with a sigh as you got up and quickly slipped on a robe, grabbing him a damp washcloth for the drying come on his torso.

You tilted your head as you watched him clean up, and you wanted to offer some touch that was a bit less intimate than a hug, so you found yourself blurting out: "do you like having your hair played with?"

"Um, I don't… I don't know," he admitted as he reached up to card his fingers through the hair in question. "No one else has ever really touched my hair before."

"Really?" you laughed, getting back on the bed to sit beside him. "It looks pretty luscious. I figured any girlfriend of yours would want to get her hands on it."

"Oh, well, the last time I had a girlfriend… it wasn't long then," he explained, and you kept on your best poker face. His hair looked like he'd been growing it out for at least two years, unless it grew crazy fast or something. How long had he been single? With a body like that you could barely believe that he was single now.

"Do you mind if I touch it?" you offered quietly, and once he gave you a nod you reached forward and combed your fingers through it, reaching deeper to scratch at his scalp, occasionally pulling the strands lightly into loose braid-like patterns that fell away almost immediately afterwards. He sank into your touch until you found yourself supporting his head against your chest, mindlessly playing with his hair until you noticed his eyes were shut, his breathing was slowed, and his body was limp on top of yours.

He fell asleep.

You laughed silently to yourself, realizing that you couldn't get him off of you without his cooperation since he was so heavy and you had no shot at lifting him. And, of course, his cooperation required his consciousness… which required waking him up.

And, for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. He just looked too peaceful, for a guy who had never seemed truly relaxed around you.

Was there any other way he could relax? Cause it kinda seemed like he really, really needed this. And you were in the business of meeting needs, to say the least.

So, with an apologetic text to your last client of the night that you needed to reschedule, you let James sleep on you as you closed your eyes and drifted off as well.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #sub!bucky barnes x domme!reader

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

Text

Inevitable (Prologue) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. ot6)

Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Series Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption, minor character death, explicit sexual content in future chapters (oral, unprotected sex but be safe please!)

Prologue Word count: 2.2k

Summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

A/N: I’ve had this story in my head for months and I’m glad I finally got to put this into writing! This little family was such a joy to write, and I thank the sweetest soul, Ava @btstannies for letting me gush over this trio and hyping me up everyday! Also, my baseball knowledge is pretty shallow so please forgive me!

Listen to: Walking By by Something Corporate

Series Masterlist || Next

“We’re here.”

The deep voice cuts through the numbness you feel, blowing life into your body that’s chosen to block out the pain for now because you know after this, it’s going to hurt a lot more.

You taste iron on your lips. You feel the sting in your eyes. You see the crescent nail marks on your palms. Then you slacken your jaw and try to breathe.

“You can cry, you know?” But Taehyung knows you won’t. Not in front of him. Not in front of the man whose heart you’re about to break.

Your best friend knows you, knows you’ll only cry when you’re alone - under the covers, in the shower, on your bedroom floor. You don’t let anybody see you like that. It makes you feel like you don’t have control, and control is the one thing you need to have right now.

“I will.”

“You also don’t have to do this.”

But Taehyung also knows you still will. It’s a decision you made on your own and he knows you well enough that nothing - no one - will make you change your mind.

“I need to.”

He hums; it’s a battle he won’t win. So he exits the car, opens the passenger seat door, and pulls you out. “I’ll be here when it’s over.”

When it’s over. Over. That’s what it’ll be after this.

You ring the doorbell and hear the faint footsteps get louder. The door opens and joyful onyx eyes greet you, a contrast to your tired brown ones. He takes it for something else, perhaps stress, since he doesn’t say anything about it.

Jungkook pulls you in a hug and you will yourself not to bask in his sweet scent, not to let his soft giggle on your neck and peck on your cheek and whisper of “I missed you” make you forget why you’re here in the first place.

He tugs you inside the apartment, the one the team offered him because he couldn’t abide by the university dorm’s curfew, being that he trains too early and finishes too late. It had been a blessing to you both, as in the course of your over two years together, you’d taken advantage of the privacy and solitude it provided.

You can’t imagine what it would give him after this.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been so busy. All these calls with the Dodgers’ owner, then manager, then coach. You think they’d all just call at once but they’re in different cities, I guess,” he shrugs and turns to you. “They’ve been excited,” he continues, his smile reaching his eyes.

It’s never pained you until now.

“As they should,” you try a smile. “They’re lucky you signed.”

He chuckles at this. He’s always been amused at your oblivion with how these things work. He’s lucky he even caught the eye of a scout, lucky they even paid attention, lucky that the LA Dodgers wanted to give him a shot with their AAA affiliate team in the minor league.

If he’s even luckier, maybe he can get to the major league in three years; two would be a miracle. It’s what he’s worked so hard for, it’s why the decision to move thousands of miles away was a no-brainer. Not everyone gets a chance to play in the most popular baseball league like this.

But Jungkook doesn’t know any better, doesn’t know that you know how these things work. You wouldn’t be doing what you’re about to if you didn’t.

“I’m glad you called, though,” he says, nerves teeming with excitement at his news. Well, proposal. It might be a difficult sell with you but he knows it’s not impossible.

It came to him one day, in the middle of a conference call with the owner who kept raving about his soon-to-be home.

“Oklahoma City is great, Jungkook. You’re gonna love it there,” the man had said. Jungkook wasn’t completely sold on the city but he knew you’d enjoy the museums, knew you’d enjoy watching the OKC Thunder play - you were always more into basketball than baseball, anyway.

Everything had been so fast - from the meetings to the contract-signing to the planning of his move to the US - but he couldn’t imagine starting his life there without you and he just knew he had to have you there with him.

He could help you find a job or you could do freelance work; what he’d earn could be enough if you both plan things out well, he thought. He was smiling like an idiot during that call, thinking about the next phase of your life together and he couldn’t wait to tell you.

You’d been caught up with your final projects and school events and he’d been caught up with his papers but you’re here with him now.

“So I was thinking and—.”

“We should break up.”

You say at the same time. For the first time, his wide eyes mirror yours - sullen and dark, but glassy, too because he did not just hear you tell him that you two should end this.

Everything had been going so well. You’d been so excited when he got signed to the Minor League, was celebrating with him in all ways you both knew how. There were no talks about breakups, no ending things. It seemed like a given that you’d both stay together; long distance relationships are hard but there are ways to manage. He knew that. He thought you knew that, thought you felt the same, too.

He stares at you, unable to make a sound, to form words that would be remotely close to what he wants to say. His heart is breaking by the second and you stare back at him. There’s no sign of guilt. You’re not taking it back, you’re not saying anything.

“You don’t mean this, ___. Tell me you don’t mean this.”

“I do,” you sigh. “I just think it’s best if we end this.”

He wishes you had not said anything at all.

“Why?” He stammers, willing himself to face whatever fucked up reason you have for wanting to break up. It doesn’t seem real. He’s suffocating with how forward you are, with how unbothered you seem while he feels his world slowly crumbling. “Did I do something wrong? Do you not love me anymore?”

“I just don’t think it’s gonna work out.”

“We haven’t even tried. I mean, I’m not leaving yet, we have a few more months to figure it out.”

“It’s months enough to get over this so we can move on. It’ll just be harder then. We know it’s gonna happen anyway,” you lie.

You see the shock on his face, the disbelief in the words coming out of your mouth. This isn’t the woman who he laid in bed with just a week ago, naked, giggling, kissing him.

“Babe, you can’t do this. I want you—no, I need you to be with me,” he continues, voice strangled, the thoughts of asking you to come with him drifting away.

“I don’t.” It’s another lie, but it’s one you need to tell.

You’re uncompromising, resolute in your decision. Your almost emotionless face - tightened features and completely dry eyes - is a contrast to his. You can’t break. You can’t back out from this.

He muffles his cries, heart breaking at the coldness of your words.

“You’re all you need, Jungkook,” you continue. “There’s nothing else I can give you that you won’t get there.” Another lie. You know that no one could love him as much as you. It’s why you’re doing this.

“Don’t do this to me, please.”

“Don’t do this to me, too, Jungkook. You have an entire life to live out there. You’re the one leaving and I’m supposed to just stay here and wait for you? Until your dream is enough? Live my life in limbo until we can be together again in god knows when? Expect that video calls will make up for the distance? What about me and my own life? What about my needs?”

It’s messed up but that’s what you do when you love someone, right? You hurt them? And you let them go?

You can only hope that one day, he’ll understand; that one day, he can forgive you. That one day, he’ll accept that you had to do this. It’s that hope you hang onto - that you’ll hang onto for years to come - just so you won’t fall apart. It’s only that hope where you can derive your strength from because you’ll have to be strong for someone else now. Someone who isn’t him.

“We— we can work it out. We’ll try, okay?. We’ll figure something out.” He stutters, still unbelieving that this is happening, that he is begging you to be on the same page with him, begging you to fight for this with him.

“But what if we can’t? What if it becomes too much? You know what it would take to make it and I can’t hold you back, Jungkook. My life is here, my family and my friends are here. I have a job waiting for me, so you can’t hold me back either. It’s unfair to both of us.”

He’s looking at you, desperate to find a crack, to find an opening. But there’s none.

“Baby, please—” he cries, arms out to hold you but you step away, as if his touch could burn you. His heart is already shattered, why are you still breaking it? What’s left to break when you’ve taken everything away from him with just your words?

“Jungkook, think about it!”

“I am, and you’re not making sense! I know we haven’t really talked about it—“

“Exactly. Because there’s nothing to talk about. You don’t need baggage when you’re over there, you can’t be thinking about anyone else, especially one who isn’t there. You need support and more patience and understanding and… I can’t give you those. Not anymore. I’m tired. I’ve been tired. It’s gonna be even more tiring when you’re gone.”

The lies don’t stop but you know they��re necessary, that this is how you convince him, that this is how he lets you go.

Jungkook doesn’t think there’s a worse way that you can hurt him. He’s always admired your decisiveness, but right now, he hates it, hates everything he loves about you - how strong you are, how persistent you are, how uncompromising you are. Your words are ice, as cold as the December evening. You’re unmoving and he knows you well enough that you won’t take it back.

“Fine,” he relents. “You want to break up? Then we break up.” He wipes the tears off his face, trying to be brave, trying to salvage the remaining dignity he has left. “We end this right now, like you want.”

This is what you came here to do. This was the goal. And you’re absolutely broken.

You turn away, knowing any more second of looking at his clenched jaw, balled up fist, and unblinking eyes will make you give in, will make you take everything back.

“Don’t reach out, okay? Don’t call. Don’t make this harder than it already is,” he states. “You wanted this.”

You nod because he’s right. You’ll lose all rights to him after this. He’ll get over you, he’ll be okay. You’ll let him know the truth when the time is right.

“Goodbye, Jungkook. Good luck out there. Your father is very proud of you.”

You turn and head out the door, the bang not as loud as your shattering heart. And just like that, it was all over.

You stand motionless outside his apartment, unable to make a step to make it all final.

You hear a thump. Then a sob.

“Please, don’t go,” he whispers, as if he knows you’re still there, and even during the final moments, he’s still begging for you to change your mind. It’s faint but you hear it and you step away this time before you walk back in and take everything back.

Taehyung starts the car as he sees your figure approach. You head to the back, behind the driver’s seat, a hand over your mouth to suppress your sobs.

“You can cry now,” he says, as he steps on the gas and turns up the volume of the radio until it drowns out your sounds. You let yourself go and weep, throat aching at the force of it all, chest tightening at the overwhelming emotion of what you’d just done.

It hurts not like you expected. It hurts even more.

You ground yourself before you lose more of you as the seconds go by and cradle the soon-to-be-there bump on your stomach.

You need to let them know it wasn’t their fault, that they’re a blessing either way, but that it’s just hard right now. You don’t want them to feel the grief, the ache of a love that had to end, the love that created them.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” you whisper and trust that this tiny little being can hear your words. “But we’re gonna be okay, alright? Mama’s gonna be okay.”

#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #parents au #exes au #baseball player jk #inevitable #series

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because-of-a-friend · 3 years

Text

Enemies to Lovers!Jeonghan

MASTERLIST

One day I will come up with titles for my works lol.

Hi Hannah!!!! Thanks for requesting! I loved doing this one! I went ahead and went with Jeonghan cuz I feel like he fits this trope best! Sorry you had to wait so long, this particular fic got deleted like... three times so it was a struggle lol. I hope it’s what you were looking for!

I hope this is a good one, I’m realizing I get real insecure about my writing anytime I’m not doing a bulletpoint or reaction fic, so I don’t feel great about this time. Also I only started recently putting actual detail into my kiss scenes and idk how I’m doing with those???? Like do they seem ok??? Also I feel like I make it so obvious that I am such a sucker for SVT having cute nicknames for siblings, friends, partners, etc in fics lol. Anyways...

Also, I really said: Jeonghan... but in different types of lighting

Remember I don’t own the gif! Link to OP is right there if you want to go give the creator some love!!!

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Mentions eating, reader is using female pronouns (I will keep things gn unless you request differently), I think that’s it, pls let me know if I missed any

You’re not sure exactly how it happened. It was probably just an instance of getting off on the wrong foot, that led to more awkward interactions, giving both of you the wrong impression of each other. You knew this, you could rationalize it all. You were well aware that all it would take was one “I think we might have the wrong idea of each other” conversation and it would all be over. You could easily fix it all, but…

But his stupid smug face. The sarcastic jokes. The never-ending pranks that were not as funny as he thought they were. His ridiculous arrogance. His overall unapologetic nature towards all of it.

You couldn’t help but hate Yoon Jeonghan.

*****

“I don’t know, Wonnie…” you say uneasily over the phone. In previous years, you’d go over to the dorm without hesitation. You loved spending time with your brother and many of the other boys. But ever since you had officially met and begun interacting with Jeonghan…

“C’mon, [Y/N]! I bought that new game you were talking about! We can play it together on my gaming system!” Wonwoo began to persuade. You knew you’d give in; you always did. Your brother was far too sweet a person and far too comforting a presence to reject. The question was how long did you want to argue with him about going to the dorm.

You sighed, accepting defeat early to save time, “I’ll head over there in a bit.”

Wonwoo gives a small cry of victory, “Ok, I’ll have Gyu make extra ramen.” Wonwoo abruptly hangs up the phone right after, leaving you in silence to groan in regret of your decision.

You immediately straighten yourself out, though, trying to put yourself in a mindset of determination. What were you thinking? Just because you and that asshole didn’t get along meant you couldn’t go see your own twin brother without feeling uncomfortable? Screw that! If he wanted to keep the peace then he was going to have to start watching where he stepped around you.

*****

You knocked loud and clear on the door of their dorm, knowing that with thirteen people living inside, it was usually too noisy for them to hear someone signal their arrival. To your relief, Seungcheol opened the door just moments after you knocked and greeted you with a warm smile followed by a hand sneaking into your hair to ruffle it, “Hey there, kiddo! How’s it hanging?”

“Just fine,” you tilt your head down slightly in his direction as you pass him to enter the dorm. “How are things here?” As soon as you ask, your ears are met with the noise of someone dropping something in the kitchen, followed by Seungkwan crying in alarm.

“Same as always, I supposed,” Seungcheol sighs, but his smile doesn’t fade. “I think Mingyu and Wonwoo are already in the computer room, if you want to go ahead and see them!”

“Ok, thanks Cheol!” you call as you both rush off in different directions, him towards the kitchen and you towards the small room that would provide you solace from the possibility of having to see Yoon Jeonghan.

You were determined not to let things go how they usually did: you with your mouth clamped shut as Jeonghan spoke whatever teasing words he had saved up for you, and the most you can do to fight back is by rolling your eyes and finding any way to get away from him.

This time, you would still avoid contact with him, but if it happened, you’d speak your mind and not care what he thought, since that’s how he treated you.

But there was no sign of him or anyone else as you walked to the computer room. You could hear Mingyu and Wonwoo yelling and cheering at the game long before you opened the door. It was pitch black inside, the piercing light of the screen making you squint your eyes.

The two men inside both turn immediately to check who offended their dark space with the soft, yellow light from the hallway.

“Oh [Y/N], you came!” Mingyu beams up at you. You nod, matching his bright expression.

“How’s the game?” you ask simply, looking up to your brother.

“We like it so far,” Wonwoo’s smile is wide, he always gets excited about new games, whether they’re good or not. He leans over to grab a can of some sort of energy drink before gulping it down. “We left some ramen for you over there on the table. Eat first, then I’ll let you have a turn.”

You roll your eyes, though Wonwoo was only mere minutes older than you, he found those moments to be enough leverage to order you around and act like you should be dependent on his care. There were times when he even referred to himself as “oppa” to you and insisted that you do the same.

Most of the time you let it slide, especially when you weren’t in the mood to argue. However, there were times when you’d pull out the “We’re the same age,” “Even if you’re older, I’m smarter,” or “Don’t boss me around when I’m more mature than you” cards at the drop of a hat.

“Can you at least turn on the LEDs while I eat?” you ask, tip-toeing in the darkness towards the table at the back end of the room. You hear a click before a soft blue glow fills the room, finally giving you a clear view of your path. You pull the bowl of ramen towards you as you sit and resist the urge to comment on how little they left you. The dorm was filled with food anyways, you could find more later if you got hungry again.

Wonwoo and Mingyu begin to eagerly tell you what they like about the game as you eat. You listen happily, feeling safe in the presence of your brother and friend.

Then of course…

“Hey you two, Cheol wanted me to remind you that we have to get up early tomorrow,” you can’t help the sour expression that comes over your face as Jeonghan enters the room to speak to Wonwoo and Mingyu. “Oh, hey there cutie, I didn’t know you were here!” His smirk makes you sick.

“Don’t call me that,” you say bitterly into the nearly empty bowl.

Wonwoo looks nervously between you and his bandmate, well aware of the dislike you have for him. He’s grateful that you’ve always kept it so civil, but still feels bothered by the unrest between you.

Jeonghan lets out a little giggle in response, and Wonwoo feels a tug in the pit of his stomach, he wishes Jeonghan wouldn’t be so hard on you sometimes. He knows his hyung doesn’t mean anything by it, but you…

You feel your heart sink as Jeonghan steps fully into the room, striding to sit across from you at the table. You can only stare in wonder at his audacity as he slides the bowl towards himself and finishes off the ramen in one bite.

“I was eating that,” you try to keep your tone measured, attempting to keep within the balance of standing up for yourself but not starting any drama that would affect the boys.

“Go make more if you’re hungry, then,” Jeonghan says casually, making your anger positively flare.

You don’t even give your brother the chance to mediate, jumping up from your place and leaving the room, wanting to be anywhere but around that prick.

*****

“You’re leaving already?” Mingyu pouts at you.

“Gyu, I’ve been here for hours,” you laugh, stretching out your fingers as they start to prick from pain of slamming into a keyboard for so long. You had returned to the computer room but only after Jeonghan left. Part of you had wished you had done more to confront him; another part was glad you didn’t start a fight and put Wonwoo in an awkward position. “Besides all of you, as well as me have to get up early tomorrow, it’s already late. I need to get back home.”

“You can stay here,” Wonwoo was quick to offer.

You shook your head at him, “Then I’ll just have to get up even earlier, I’ll go back to my place.” Wonwoo nods almost reluctantly, standing to walk you out.

All of you run into Joshua on your way to the front door, he turns out to be the only one smart enough to ask how you got there.

“Oh, I took the bus,” you say slowly, knowing this is about to cause issues.

“Well, the last one would have already stopped running by now,” Mingyu says looking at the time on his phone.

“I’ll give you a ride,” Josh offers immediately.

You bring your hands up to shake them back and forth, “No, no, I can find a way home, you all need to go to bed.”

“[Y/N],” Wonwoo speaks up immediately in that stern voice you hate but also can’t help but listen to, “let Josh take you home. It’s either that or you stay here, I won’t have you walking around alone at night.” Wonwoo waits a moment to gauge your expression. He finally nods affirmatively, before speaking directly to Joshua, “Take her home, please.”

Joshua nods before walking off to grab his keys. You and Wonwoo send Mingyu off to bed. Once you’re alone, your brother pulls you in for a tight hug. “Do you want me to say something to him?” he asks lowly.

You shake your head, “I don’t want to cause any problems with you guys.” You sit in silence for a moment. “Come and stay over with me sometime, I miss our sleepovers.”

Joshua comes back and Wonwoo pulls away, “Thanks, hyung. Please get her home safe.” For the second time that night, your hair gets ruffled before your brother disappears to go off to bed.

The ride home with Joshua is comfortable. He speaks kindly to you and makes you smile.

You begin to wonder how amongst all these angels, there exists a person like Yoon Jeonghan.

*****

Wonwoo used the new game as leverage to guilt you into coming over quite often in the following weeks. You hadn’t realized how much you had limited your time at the dorm until you started going consistently once more. It was nice being able to spend time with the boys again. You hated that Jeonghan had become such an unbearable presence that it affected your relationship with the rest of your friends.

But ever since you had started to stand your ground and talk back, he had finally begun to avoid you. You supposed it was only fun for him when you sat there and took it.

It didn’t stop the two of you from bickering when you saw each other, but now both of you preferred to avoid each other instead of Jeonghan seeking you out to tease you.

The following weeks of visiting were fairly comfortable. Whenever Jeonghan wasn’t around, you got to spend plenty of time with the other boys and your brother. Plus, the new video game was even better than expected.

Jeonghan’s presence slowly became uncomfortable in a different way.

Instead of being smug and overbearing, he became strangely quiet around you. His facial expressions became more serious as he sent genuine glares your way before letting out bitter remarks and going on his way.

It made you even angrier.

Who the hell was he to torture you all this time and then act like a kicked puppy when you finally fought back???

Your anger and his bitterness slowly escalated the tension between you two. Although they were happening less frequently, the arguments between you became more serious and almost hurtful.

Whatever, you told yourself, he could do as he pleased, you wouldn’t let it affect you anymore.

*****

You stared down at your phone screen. Why? Why did it have to be here, while you were at the dorm?

The call was only five minutes. They didn’t even do it in person. Of course, they had warned that because of hard times, there’d be lay-offs soon. But they couldn’t even do it in person? And all you got was a simple “Sorry, come collect your things on Monday”??? You were a hard worker, passionate about the job, more efficient than most of your coworkers and this is how they treated you???

A part of you could’ve guessed, many of the employees your age had gotten in because of nepotism. But you didn’t want to believe that they’d just brush off all your years of hard work just to avoid stepping on the toes of higher-ups who had relative connections hired at the company.

You squatted against the wall of the hallway, still too in shock to move.

So, you simply sat in silence, for what seemed like forever.

“You good?” you had never felt worse than the exact moment his voice reached your ears.

“Go away,” you said sternly, knowing you’d be crying soon.

“Geez, forgive me for asking,” Jeonghan responds before turning to walk away. He stops abruptly after you sniffle. “So, you’re not ok?”

“No offense, Jeonghan,” you say hating the way your voice is shaking, “but you are the last person I want to speak to right now.”

There’s a heavy silence for a long moment. You silently pray that he’ll just leave. “Do you want me to get your brother?” he asks lightly.

You shake your head, “No, I don’t want to ruin the mood. I’m going to go home, just tell him I had a stomach ache.” You push yourself up and begin to walk briskly towards the door.

To your surprise, Jeonghan reaches out to stop you. You stare at his hand wrapped around your arm and wonder if you’ve ever even allowed him to touch you before. “It’s already late, let me give you a ride.”

You pull his hand off of you, “No, thanks.” You grab your coat and start to dig around in your purse to make sure you have all of your belongings.

“[Y/N],” Jeonghan’s voice rings clear in your head despite your brain feeling fuzzy. You don’t want to look at him. Who is this person that’s showing concern and speaking kindly? You don’t like it. It feels fake. It feels like a predator playing with a wounded prey. You’re just waiting for him to laugh or make a remark or do anything to make you feel worse than you already do.

But Jeonghan simply grabs the keys laying on the front table, grabs your arm once more, and leads you out to the car.

*****

The ride is suffocatingly silent. You wished he’d at least turn on some music to cover up the sound of your crying, but you remained in the quiet. You rolled down your window and stuck your head out, letting the warm night air and sound of wind comfort you. Since you were turned away from him completely, you didn’t see Jeonghan glancing over at you throughout the drive.

You couldn’t have left that car faster when you finally pulled up to your apartment.

To your dismay, Jeonghan also gets out, apparently intent on walking you up.

“You don’t have to-” you start but abruptly stop when he gives you a look telling you an emotion you don’t quite understand.

Jeonghan finally speaks when you’re riding the elevator up to your floor, “I don’t really mean it, you know.”

“Mean what?” you say weakly, starting to feel the exhaustion from crying so much.

“When I talk to you like that… I mean when I’m… rude,” he trails off, running a hand through his hair. “Usually it’s just teasing, but obviously I went too far with you. And I didn’t realize it until you started showing how upsetting it was for you. I should’ve known before that, though.”

“You seemed ruder after I started talking back,” you say, confused.

“I was just being petty and defensive. I kept telling myself things like: It’s her fault, isn’t it? She should have made it more clear from the beginning that it was upsetting her. How was I supposed to know? But that was just me being immature, I should’ve just talked to you.”

“Is that an… apology, Yoon Jeonghan?” you ask, letting yourself be a little smug.

For the first time, you get a genuine smile out of him, “Maybe.”

There’s more silence for a second.

“It’s a two-way road, though,” you say finally.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“I mean, I could have also come and talked to you instead of letting things escalate,” you say. “I played some part in all of this… unpleasantness. You can’t entirely blame yourself.”

Jeonghan smiles again, reaching out to ruffle your hair the way Seungcheol always did. Then he takes a dramatic deep breath and rolls his shoulders, “There! That feels better, doesn’t it? We can finally be friends!”

You roll your eyes in a playful manner, but you feel it too, a weight has been lifted.

*****

Wonwoo showed up at your door in the middle of the night that night. You took one look at his frantic face and groaned, “I told Jeonghan I would tell you myself.”

“You should have told me immediately!” your brother pouts as he passes you to walk into your apartment.

“I didn’t want to worry you so late, especially when all of you were having a good time. I was going to tell you tomorrow,” you close the door behind him. You watch as he turns on the TV and starts picking through your pantry. “Hmmm, yes it seems quite clear that you came here out of concern for me,” you can’t help but use a sarcastic tone.

Wonwoo sends a glare your way as he grabs snacks and settles on the couch. You sit next to him, grabbing your fair share of the food. You try to keep your attention on the show, but the feeling of Wonwoo staring straight at you is distracting.

“I’m fine, you don’t have to worry,” you sigh.

“Really? Because Jeonghan described you as an emotional wreck,” your brother scoffs.

“I was just shocked and upset. I’ll be ok. I have a good resume, I can find a new job,” you insist.

“I keep telling you, you don’t have to work-”

“I don’t care how much you make,” you interrupt. “I’m not going to depend on you. It’ll just make trouble for both of us.”

“Will you at least let me help out if there’s any problems before you find a new job?” Wonwoo kicks at your leg.

“Like I would even tell you if I was having trouble,” you return his kick.

“You just can’t help but be difficult,” your brother complains quietly.

You let the sound of the show take over the room for a few minutes. “I do have good news,” you finally speak up, wanting to give your brother some peace of mind about something. “Me and Jeonghan made up. We figured it out.”

Wonwoo bolts upright with a grin on his face, “Really??? It’s really all good now?”

“100%,” you say, unable to stop yourself from pinching your brother’s cheeks, finding his excited expression cute.

“Let’s celebrate soon then! We can have a big gaming party with all of the boys!” You agree to your brother’s proposal. You feel content in this moment, knowing you’ll wake up in the morning in an uncomfortable position, immediately kick at his legs and tell him to get his stinky feet away from you.

*****

Your time at the dorm increases with the weight of you and Jeonghan’s rivalry being gone. You’re enjoying getting to know him as a friend instead of constantly walking on eggshells around him. Going to visit the boys is once again a happy and comfortable experience.

You hadn’t realized how much Jeonghan had affected you until you two had worked things out. The world felt light again and you could breathe, no longer in constant worry of possibly ruining things between your brother and his bandmates.

You hoped things would remain without complications for a long time.

*****

“Seungkwan, you should come with us!” you begged. “The carnival only comes once a year; you can’t miss it!”

“But it’s so crowded and there are screaming kids everywhere,” Seungkwan complains.

“Oh, whatever,” Soonyoung interjects. “You love it every time we go.”

Seungkwan gives Soonyoung a look that has you laughing through your mouthful of ramen. “Oh, shoot,” you say feeling liquid start to dribble down your chin. “Can I get a napkin?”

“Here’s one,” you hear Jeonghan’s voice as he enters the room. You reach out to grab the napkin as Seungkwan and Soonyoung continue bickering. But instead of handing it to you, Jeonghan extends his hand not holding the napkin towards you. His fingers come to lightly touch your chin and turn you towards him. Jeonghan wipes your face with the napkin himself, taking the time to make sure it’s really all clean. “All better,” he smiles at you, running his thumb across your chin to check its cleanliness one last time.

As Jeonghan walks away, you turn to see if Seungkwan or Soonyoung saw what had happened. They were still arguing, though. The boys showing you physical touch or affection wasn’t really all that uncommon. But for some reason, the way Jeonghan had grabbed your chin just now… Why was your heart beating so hard?

*****

You couldn’t stop yourself from dragging Wonwoo all over the carnival. It was nice to get out in this environment, the lights, the laughter, the food, the games, the rides. You wanted to do everything, but not before you looked at all there was and took in the spectacle.

You could hear all the boys laughing excitedly behind you, you knew they’d want to try everything as well. You shook your head at Seungkwan’s bright expression, you couldn’t wait to play the ‘I told you so’ card later.

The night was a blur. All of you ran from games to rides to snacks and then all over again.

You couldn’t help but stop completely in your tracks as you passed a booth with a giant stuffie of your favorite animal as a prize. Your fascination with the plushie doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You want me to win it for you?” Jeonghan’s voice is suddenly speaking right into your ear. You jump after realizing he was right behind you. You grip your cotton candy a bit tighter and shyly nod. The way Jeonghan grins at you fills you with warmth.

You watch him walk over to the booth. His light hair and pink shirt were illuminated by the soft glow of the surrounding lights. Jeonghan takes his wallet out and hands some bills to the vendor. You step up closer to stand next to him as he plays the game. He laughs as he chats back and forth with the vendor. You watch in awe as Jeonghan clears the game, no problem.

“Anything from the top shelf!” the vendor exclaims happily.

“That one please,” Jeonghan points right at the stuffie you had been staring at.

“It’ll be a wonderful memory for your girlfriend,” the vendor smiles as he hands the prize directly to you.

“Oh, I’m-”

“Of course!” Jeonghan interrupts you almost instantly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and starting to pull you away from the game. “We’ll cherish it for a long time! Thanks for the game!” The vendor waves kindly as you two walk away. After a moment, Jeonghan pulls his arm off of you, “Sorry, sometimes it’s just easier to agree than explain, you know?” You nod in agreement. “Wait a second,” he stops you by putting his hands on your shoulders and standing in front of you. Before you can ask what’s wrong, his hand comes up towards your face as it had earlier that day. He quickly swipes his thumb across your lips before pulling to back to show you remnants of your cotton candy. “Do you always eat this messily?” he grins and then, to your surprise, puts his thumb in his mouth to clean it off.

You stand there, frozen, unable to really comprehend what just happened as Jeonghan walks away towards the other boys.

“For the second time today?” Soonyoung is suddenly standing next to you.

“So you did see what happened earlier!” you exclaimed, hitting his arm lightly. “It was weird, right?!”

“Can’t tell yet,” Soonyoung replies cocking his head to the side and putting his hands in his pocket. “Sometimes Jeonghan is just sort of naturally flirtatious. But I’m not sure about you. I figured since you two didn’t get along at first, it’d take him awhile to warm up to you at that level. He seemed to get comfortable with you quite quickly.” Soonyoung turns and shrugs at you after his words.

“You’re no help at all,” you say emotionlessly. There’s a pause before both you and Soonyoung slowly look at each other and laugh at your quip.

You decide to brush off your new concerns about Jeonghan and enjoy this night with the boys. The vendor was right, it was a good memory, and you’re sure it’d last you for your whole lifetime.

*****

You hate yourself a bit for it, but you once again seem to be avoiding Jeonghan. He had made you so nervous that day, and the way your heart pounded… You didn’t want to get sucked into having a silly crush on him if he wasn’t actually trying to flirt with you.

No, from now on, interactions with Jeonghan would be friendly but short and appropriate.

You were stupid to think he wouldn’t notice.

It wasn’t long before there came a night when Jeonghan insisted that he be the one to give you a ride home. You couldn’t help the way your nerves spiked at his determination to be the one to take you. You knew he most likely wanted to talk to you about your sudden distance from him.

The ride itself was nice, Jeonghan rolled the windows down for you, remembering that you enjoyed the warm night air of summer. You talked comfortably with one another. Jeonghan was always able to make you smile so easily.

You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at him. He was just wearing a t-shirt and sweats but… His blonde hair being illuminated in the moonlight as he ran his hands through it and his bright smile as he laughed...

He really was beautiful.

Once again, Jeonghan came with you to walk you to your door. And once again, he finally spoke up in the elevator, “You’ve been avoiding me, sweetheart.” Your heart drops to your stomach at the nickname. “Is everything ok? Did I do something to make you mad again?”

You quickly shake your head and pull your hands up to shake them as well, “No! Not at all!”

“You sure?” he insists.

“Yoon Jeonghan, you really don’t think I’d tell you if you did?” you say.

He giggles, “Yeah, that’s true. You’d let me know the moment I messed up, wouldn’t you?” The elevator dings and opens up to your floor. You and Jeonghan step out together. “Is everything else ok, then? You don’t start avoiding people for no reason.”

You nod as casually as possible, “Everything is great.” Your tone isn’t convincing and Jeonghan nudges you. “I guess, I just got… nervous? I mean one moment we were like enemies and then the next we were suddenly really… close, and-”

“I made you uncomfortable?” Jeonghan’s voice is slightly panicked.

“No, you did nothing wrong! It’s all on me, I just got caught up in my emotions and-” you stop abruptly when you realize what you were about to do.

Jeonghan nods quietly as if to say he understands, but what it is he understands, you’re not sure. “Is it ok for us to remain close, or do you want me to back off?”

“I don’t want any more distance between us, but…” you trail off.

“But, what?” he prompts you again.

“I don’t want to get the wrong idea about anything…” you say, finally reaching your door.

Jeonghan watches as you slowly unlock your door and push it open, “You haven’t gotten the wrong idea about anything.” He avoids eye contact when you look up at him.

You’re shocked by his forwardness. But once he voices his thoughts out loud, you once again feel the feeling of a weight being lifted.

Jeonghan gestures for you to step inside, catching your arm once you fully pass him. He pulls you back to him, close enough for him to lean in and leave a quick kiss on your cheek, “Night, babe, I’ll see you later.”

You stand there, completely still, staring at your door that had shut closed in front of you. You can feel heat rise from the tip of your toes all the way up to your ears. You finally let yourself fall into a squatting position, covering your face with your hands, and letting out a squeal.

*****

Jeonghan invites you to meet up outside of the dorm. It’s a cute little coffee shop at a quiet part of the city. You’re already sitting when he walks in. Maybe one day, you won’t be completely caught off guard by his beauty… but today is not that day.

His whole person is bathed in the glow of the early morning light as he approaches you, the softest, most genuine smile gracing his face.

“No, don’t get up,” he says when you try to leave your chair, “I need to go off and order anyways.” Jeonghan leans down to kiss your forehead firmly. “I just wanted to come say hi first,” he whispers, holding your face close to his.

Your first date sets a wonderful precedent to the rest of your relationship. Jeonghan gets your heart racing with flirty comments and sweet touches. But he also makes you feel calm and content, easily keeping a smile on your face. You just feel… good throughout it all.

You insist on walking him back to the dorm, since they had schedules that day.

“So, we’ll be doing this again?” Jeonghan asks hopefully, as you reach the front door.

“Definitely,” you nod enthusiastically up at him, wondering how you had ever managed to despise the man that made you feel so whole and happy.

Jeonghan looks utterly happy and a tiny bit nervous as he stares down at you. His hand reaches up to brush back your hair before settling firmly against your face. Jeonghan looks at you so fondly as he leans in. His lips connect to yours… so softly… so sweetly. You can feel his nose nudge against your face to push it into a preferred position. He pulls back slightly after every little kiss to let out laughter so sweet, it sounds like it should be coming from the mouth of an angel. But he’s never far away for long, reconnecting to you quickly every time. You let him take the lead, allowing his lips to take care of yours, giving them the sweetest kind of attention. He pulls back for a moment longer to nuzzle his nose against yours, an action that has you gripping his shirt to keep him close. His hands keep themselves entertained by running across your face or through your hair.

He’s going back in to kiss you once again when he front door of the dorm opens, leaving you caught in the act. Wonwoo stares at you two for a long moment before making a single comment that causes you and Jeonghan to laugh.

“You know, when I said I wanted you two to have a better relationship, this isn’t exactly what I meant.”

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ladyvader23 · 2 years

Text

Kidnapper

This was inspired by a conversation we had in our Vader and Luke fic discord server. We were talking about crazy stunts we did as kids, and I mentioned that I used to do exactly what Luke does in this fic...except I don’t have a murder bot dad and I never got caught. :P Enjoy!

_______________________________________________

Vader knew something was up the moment he got home and ran into Luke in the hangar.

“Son.” Vader greeted. It seemed a bit early for Luke to be home, but then he remembered that some seniors got an early out period, and Luke had signed up for the program this semester. He immediately forgot about asking why he was home so early and was about to ask his son if he’d like to go with him to the Devastator, when he noted Luke’s hurried attempt to put himself between him and his speeder.

Vader paused, glad Luke couldn’t see his expression behind the mask as he narrowed his eyes at his son and then at the speeder. Had Luke gotten into a fender bender again? He thought he’d convinced his son to just tell him the truth when those things happened, but…

He reached out with the Force…and was surprised to find that Luke was not alone.

He had company with him.

In the trunk of his speeder.

Honestly, Vader hadn’t imagined his son would ever do something like that. He wasn’t him, after all, though he had the means to simply arrest whoever he wanted and bring them in for interrogation the normal way. What had this person done to upset Luke so much as to get stuffed into the boy’s trunk?”

Except, the longer he looked at the presence in the trunk, the more he vaguely recognized it as one of Luke’s friends.

That didn’t help with his confusion at all.

“Dad!” Luke squeaked, then seemed to realize he wasn’t supposed to call him dad in the presence of others…and technically, by all visual accounts, they were alone, but Luke was terrible enough at lying that he amended, “I mean, faaa—daaaa–der. Fadader. How are you?”

Fadader?

It was then that Vader decided he was going to see just how far Luke was going to take this.

“The usual.” Vader answered smoothly. “I am pleased to see you home so early.”

“Oh,” Luke leaned casually against his speeder…or he attempted to. He was as tense as a durasteel. “You know how it is. I uh. Got early out this semester. Perks of being a senior!”

The boy attempted to give him a grin but it ended up looking more like a pained grimace.

“So I remember you telling me. Now that you are here, I thought it might be a good idea for you to come aboard the Devastator. I have some time to accompany you as you work on your space piloting.”

He knew the boy was eager for any opportunity to get his license upgraded to being both planet-side and intergalactic piloting. He’d been begging him to go with him, since he could not do so without an adult.

As he suspected, Luke’s eyes lit up, and he half expected him to admit he’d had a kid in his trunk the whole time, but he cleared his throat instead. “Um. Actually, I uh…h-h-have a bunch of homework tonight…”

The boy looked physically pained to give up space piloting for something like homework. Even if that were true, Vader was well aware his son wouldn’t give that up.

“Nonsense. It is not often that I have time. I will not have time for another month.”

“A month?” Luke squeaked.

“Yes. But if it is really that important–”

“No! Uh,” Vader did not miss how Luke’s eyes darted behind him and back a few times before he swallowed thickly.

Here it came. Vader was supremely interested to know why his son had stuffed his friend in a trunk–

“Sure. Uh. Let’s go. Which ship are we taking?”

….So that’s how he wanted to play this.

“We will take yours.” Vader was already moving to the passenger side, but Luke hurriedly blocked him.

“No!” Then, realizing he’d just shouted in his father’s mask, he quickly amended, “I mean, uh…why not one of yours?”

“Because I do not wish for you to drive one of mine. This speeder is perfectly capable of transitioning to orbital flight. It will make it to the Devastator.”

He was being supremely generous. Even when they did practice in space, Vader always flew them to the Devastator. Leaving an atmosphere could be tricky for new pilots, after all.

But Luke again appeared pained as he said, “...I don’t think I’m ready for exiting an atmosphere.”

“You are quite ready. Unless you have some reason as to why you are incapable?”

It took everything in him not to look pointedly at the boy’s trunk.

Luke bit his lip, yet another sign that he was hiding something, and sighed. “Okay…I…I guess I can fly…”

Vader felt a spike of terror in the Force. The boy in the trunk would be fine in space, at least for a short time (the trunk was not well heated, though it gave plenty of oxygen), but Vader was certain Luke would fess up long before they drew near the atmosphere.

“Excellent. Before we leave, you should go through the flight thru of that Space Invaders restaurant you are so fond of.”

Luke was in the process of getting in the pilot's seat, but at that he paused, giving him a strange look. “You hate that place.”

“I do. I did not say buy food for me.” Not that he could eat food.

“But…you complain whenever I buy any…”

“It is not ideal, but it is quick to pick up. I am certain you are hungry.”

“...I think I’ll just wait until we get to the Devastator–”

“I will not have you complaining about food while we are busy with your lesson.” Vader got into the passenger seat and gestured for Luke to join him. “Let us begin…unless there is something else?”

Again, Luke’s eyes slid to the trunk where Vader could practically hear the other boy’s thoughts going the speed of lightspeed as he wondered if Luke was truly going to actually kidnap him.

Was this some sort of strange joke he did not understand?

But Luke got into the pilots seat. “No. We can go. Uh. Thanks. I guess.”

Vader, honestly, was surprised Luke hadn’t given it up yet…but again, he was fascinated to know how far this was going to go.

Luke took off, slowly and carefully. Vader always insisted that his children follow the rules of traffic (even if he did not), but he was surprised that he did not have to remind his son to adhere to the rules as he very legally merged into the appropriate speeder lane and went exactly the correct speed.

“You may speed up.” Vader said, deciding to test his son further.

Luke’s lips tightened, but he didn’t dare take his eyes from the lane. “I’m going the legal limit.”

“I am aware. Speed up. I do not have all day.” He technically didn’t, but he thought this experiment was important enough to make time.

“I’m okay, thanks.”

Vader…wasn’t going to push him on that one. He desired his son to be safe, and though he did not particularly care for the friend in the trunk (nor did he even remember his name), he did know what it was like to be a parent, and he imagined the friend’s parents would not be pleased if the boy was unnecessarily injured because of his experiment.

Luke pulled up to Space Invaders and ordered his meal through the flight thru. “Are you certain that will be all you are having?” Vader asked.

Luke gave him a weird look. “Um. It’s a whole meal.”

“You could be extra hungry.” He half expected Luke to figure out that he was well aware of their stowaway, but Luke shook his head.

“No. I’m super good! Don’t worry about me!”

Hm.

Luke paid for and collected his meal while Vader watched him intently. As they pulled out of the flight thru, Vader said, “This speeder is filthy. We should go through a speeder wash.”

“What?” Luke again glanced in panic into his rearview mirror. “Uh. I’ll do it tomorrow. You said you were busy.”

“Yes, but good speeder maintenance is important, son.” Vader told him pointedly. “You will have to redo your paint job if it is not consistently washed before and after space travel.”

Technically, that wasn’t true. But his young son didn’t know that.

“...I…I mean…if you say so…”

“I do. Now, there is a perfect establishment. Go through the automatic wash.” Vader directed.

From the trunk, the friend’s fear turned into incredulousness, and Vader was certain he was well aware that he’d just made that rule up.

Too bad he was in no position to tell Luke without giving himself away.

But, surely, Luke wouldn’t actually go through a speeder wash with a friend in the trunk. Vader wasn’t even certain it was safe to do so, but Luke entered the line, lined up his speeder, and let the automated system take hold of the speeder and pull it through the wash.

The entire time, Vader both stared at his son and monitored the safety of the boy in the trunk. He wasn’t sure if he was horrified or impressed by the lengths his son was willing to go to keep this up.

Both. He was both.

When they finished, Luke quickly took back control. “Okay, let’s get going–”

“Wait a moment, son. We should get your speeder detailed.”

Now Luke looked exasperated. “Father, that will literally take hours. I’m sure fifteen minutes in space isn’t going to screw my paint job up so badly that I can’t wait to get it detailed until tomorrow.”

“We should at least vacuum, then. The vacuums are free if you paid for the wash.” Vader pointed.

“But they barely work!”

“Maintenance is important, son. Pull in.”

Luke looked like he was about to be sick. “Uh. Okay. I guess.”

He did as he was told and made to get out, but when Vader also got out, Luke paused and stared at him. “What are you doing?”

“Helping my son clean his speeder thoroughly.”

Luke glanced around at the other patrons, who were definitely staring. “But…but…you’re kind of obvious, don’t you think?”

“I do not care. I will help my son.” Actually, he sort of did care to do this in public, but for the sake of the experiment… “I will begin with the trunk. You start with the front seats–”

“No, no, I’ll take the trunk, you take the front seats!” Luke squeaked.

“I will clean what I wish.” Using the Force, he called a vacuum hose to his hand and went to the trunk. Luke followed and planted himself between him and the trunk.

“Really, I don’t really use the trunk anyway!”

“Then it will be dusty. All the more reason to clean it.”

“But no one goes back there anyway…”

Vader squinted at him, debating how far he wanted to let Luke take this. He was certain at this point that he’d drag his friend to the Devastator and back, if he allowed it, and he really didn’t know where Luke had gotten this pointless rebellious streak.

So, he flicked his wrist, and the trunk popped open to reveal Luke’s friend huddled in the trunk. The boy squeaked in terror as he looked up at the two Skywalkers. In panic, he yelped, “Hi Mr. Vader, uh…fancy…seeing you here!”

Mr. Vader.

Vader looked from the friend (who’s name he could not remember for the life of him), and then at his son. He crossed his arms over his chest, the vacuum hose bumping his helmet as he did.

“Son.”

Luke winced. “How long have you known?”

“Since the hangar.”

“Then why–?”

“Curiosity. And I am not pleased with the results.” Vader looked at the friend who stared at him like he’d grown two heads. “What have you done to deserve being kidnapped and thrown in a trunk?”

“Nothing, sir,” the boy trembled. “We…um…”

“He doesn’t have early out. I did. We were going to hang out, but they check your IDs to make sure you’re allowed to leave, so I put him in my trunk so I could take him home to hang out there….but you showed up early.” Luke finally admitted.

The answer was still surprising, if not as wild as he was expecting. “You aided and abetted your friend’s truancy?” Vader challenged.

Luke looked down in shame, but Vader refused to let the look sway him. “Not so dramatically, but…yeah.”

Vader stared at his son in disbelief. He’d expect this from Leia, but not Luke. “You do realize you are grounded for the foreseeable future.” He said evenly.

Luke winced. “Yeah. Sounds about right.”

“Then at least you are aware that consequences still apply to your reckless behavior.” He looked at the boy in the trunk. “I will take your friend home and explain to his parents what transpired here.”

Luke looked up in panic. “Don’t do that, you’ll scare them to death!”

“You should have considered that before helping your friend skip class.” Vader pointed at him. “Passenger seats, now, both of you.”

And as he watched the boys scramble to do as they were told, a little, annoying voice inside of him told him that now he understood how Obi-Wan felt when he’d pulled insane stunts similar to this.

Not that he’d ever admit that.

#star wars #star wars fanfic #fanfic #my writing #luke skywalker #darth vader #luke and vader #dad vader series #the dad vader chronicles

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theficpusher · 2 years

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the sound of my heart needs the sound of another heart by momentofclarity | G | 2776 In the summer of '83, Louis is fifteen years old and in love.

this is my jam by disgruntledkittenface | M | 4513 The guy’s eyes are so blue that Harry can’t tear his gaze away, even as he moves to the beat. The searing light shade is magnetic; he finds himself leaning in and yelling, “This is my jam!” only to earn a laugh from thin pink lips that Harry’s definitely going to be dreaming about tonight. “Your jam?” When the guy yells back over the music, his blue eyes sparkling and his lips twisted in a smirk, Harry’s chest literally puffs out with pride at earning his attention. His obvious approval. Tongue-tied, Harry nods and closes his eyes as he lets go, the music reverberating around them. All of the usual inhibitions that keep him in the corner at parties fall away and he bounces around the center of the dance floor, waving his arms above his head. Somehow his towel stays on, even as he starts to think he wouldn’t mind if it fell off. Fuck it. He finally made it here, he’s damn well going to enjoy it. Harry goes to a gay bathhouse for the first time. 90s AU.

beneath the sound of hope by YesIsAWorld | E | 6620 After Louis Tomlinson leaves the set of the Smashing Pumpkins’ “1979” music video, it’s not the band or the experience that he can’t stop thinking about—it’s the curly-haired boy he met while filming. Determined to track that same boy down, he sets off on a short journey and ends up figuring out some truths about himself along the way.

BLVD by kingsofeverything | E | 12091 It’s the first week of summer break and Harry just wants to relax and enjoy his vacation in Myrtle Beach. If only he could stop making an ass of himself.

honey, honey by resurrectdead | E | 13194 It just feels weird to not be able to tell his own mum about how nervous yet over the fucking moon happy he is right now, because this tape isn’t for neither Niall nor Liam. It’s for, well. It’s for Harry bloody Styles. The boy that makes his insides feel like sunshine. Or: It’s 1988, and Louis has to make a mixtape for Harry

enter exit (enter) by louisandthealien | M | 17534 When he’s finally in the hotel, crammed into the tiny phone booth, all he can do is stare at the faded paper sign glaring down at him from the wall. 1 Minute = 11.82 USD Mexico --> United States He has less than a minute to break his boyfriend’s heart, and it’s going to cost him twelve bucks to do it. There’s sand under his fingernails as he dials the number.

Let The Boys All Sing And The Boys All Shout For Tomorrow by Lunarrua | M | 18429 It's February 1988. Thatcher is in power. There's a new drug sweeping through the clubbing scene. In Manchester, it's the eve of a major protest and a new musical movement. And when Nick finds Harry looking lost outside his favourite chip shop, it's the start of a weekend that will leave an indelible mark on both their lives.

I Just Want You to Know Who I Am by gettingaphdinlarry | nr | 21729 It's Niall Horan's senior year and it's going to be great. He's got a solid group of friends, a new job, and he gets to take his favorite class again, as long as he keeps a journal his creative writing teacher will never read. When his crush takes the same class, he's glad he has something to confide in. Even if that something is a notebook that can't talk back.

Among Lavender Fields by homosociallyyours | E | 70354 At twenty-one, Louis Tomlinson is more than ready to shed the girl next door image that's been with her since her entry into film in her childhood, but with a mother and father steeped in Hollywood tradition it's felt impossible. Meanwhile, Harry Styles is a young, struggling musician new to London, friendless yet eager for the next phase of her life to begin. When French director Marie Coutard casts the two of them in her film, it's a chance for both to break away from the people they've been. Together, they struggle through an acting process that's new and unfamiliar for both of them, learning more than they could've imagined about themselves along the way. As they spend long days picking lavender and long nights sharing the things they've never been able to tell anyone else, their love blooms. Will the flower fade, or will the love they make among lavender fields be one they carry with them to the end?

#1980s/1990s #Among Lavender Fields #homosociallyyours #I Just Want You to Know Who I Am #gettingaphdinlarry #Lunarrua #Let The Boys All Sing And The Boys All Shout For Tomorrow #louisandthealien #enter exit (enter)#resurrectdead #honey honey #kingsofeverything #blvd #YesIsAWorld #beneath the sound of hope #disgruntledkittenface #this is my jam #the sound of my heart needs the sound of another heart #momentofclarity

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vampireoutofbusiness · 3 years

Text

Star Crossed Fuckers

NAVIGATION

Pairing: sub!peter x fem!reader + they're 18

Warnings: smut with some build-up, it's pretty clear when it starts. oral, m and f receiving, enjoy sub!peter

Request: Peter and you are best friends but both of you have always liked each other. One day somehow the line is crossed and you let your feelings all out. If possible ending in smut with subpeter 👉🏼👈🏼

Synopsis: You and Peter finally come to terms with the fact you're in love with each other and things get a little- passionately -heated

a/n: so I'm reposting this because it didn't get anywhere in terms of interaction. if it wasn't a request I'd prob delete it cuz I'm sensitive

Want to request something? Click Here

*Do not repost my work on any platform, reblogs are appreciated*

You weren’t sure about soulmates, but you thought you and Peter were something along those lines. Only spending time with each other all through high school meant you knew everything about each other. Yes, even that he was a crime-fighting spider by night. It’s kind of hard to hide that you grew 2 sizes and got perfect eyesight overnight from your best friend.

Everything about him, you loved. You never stopped thinking about that boy, no matter what you were doing, he was in your thoughts. There was doubt in your mind that you were in love with him. If only you knew how to tell him.

Meanwhile, Peter thought the world of you. He tried spending every waking second with you. No matter what you did with that time, he felt like the luckiest person in the world. He loved just being in your presence because, well, he’s in love with you.

You played with the idea of telling him how you felt and so did he. Both of you denied trying, in fear any part of your friendship could be ruined. Your love for each other was buried deep down. Or, at least, that kind of love. You know, like every single friends-to-lovers trope??

People often mistook you for a couple, even when Peter introduced you to the Avengers, they assumed you were dating. He talked about you all of the time and it made sense with your body language. The small touches you’d give him, linking your arms or even hands when you walked. He threw his arm around you when he got the courage, but you initiated most of it.

Physical touch was definitely his love language after he didn’t get much of it during his childhood. He happened to be the only person you actually enjoyed receiving it from and giving it to, and Peter noticed this. He silently celebrated you trusting him enough to let your guard down.

“So glad that shit is over,” you let out a deep breath, running your hands down your face as you fell onto the couch in your family's living room.

“Our grad party or high school?” Peter chuckled as he took a seat next to you.

“Both,”

“Can’t believe you made us do it,”

“Excuse me,” you turned your upper body to look at the boy beside you, “I think I remember you smiling every time I looked over at you,”

“Probably because you were looking at me,” he smiled and your eyes rolled back.

“Mhm, I’m sure you couldn’t keep your eyes off of me,” you winked before checking a notification from your phone.

Peter was thankful you became preoccupied because his cheeks were definitely bright red. Yes, yes he was staring at you the entire evening. You looked amazing and he was enamored with you.

“My parents went out for dinner so we have the place to ourselves,”

Finally, he spent all day around other people, getting barely any attention from you and now he got you all to himself.

“What should we do?” Peter questioned while resisting the urge to tell you that he wished he could go to dinner, romantically, with you.

“Oh-,” you clapped your hands, startling him, and got off of the couch, “I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere,”

And with that, you ran upstairs. Peter sat there, already missing your presence. You came back into the living room, something in your hand. Before Peter could ask, you jumped onto him and threw your arms over his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

He didn’t object, missing your affection. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer. It felt so good to be held by the person you’re in love with.

“Okay,” you pulled your head away from his neck and looked at him, a few tears pricking your eyes already, “I know how fucking corny it is, you don’t need to tell me,”

He nodded and you handed him a piece of paper. It read Certificate of Registration; Peanut.

“What’s this?” He asked, reading it over.

“I uh- I bought you a star and named it after you,” you flashed him a smile and started explaining how you went about it.

All Peter could hear was that the love of his life named something after him. And a star nonetheless. All he wanted to do was kiss you and tell you how much he loved you.

“And since we probably won’t-,” you wiped your eyes, Peter feeling his own tears collecting, “we won’t be able to see each other as often so I figured at night, we can look at the same stars still,”

Peter had the biggest grin on his face and you could see the creases around his eyes, your favorite expression of his.

“Honestly, I don’t even know if it’s in this area of the sky above New York and it’s not like it has a sign to say it’s yours but I wanted to get you something,” you told him, a laugh coming through your tears.

“I love it,” he pulled you back into a hug, squeezing tighter this time and his tears finally made it down his cheeks, “thank you so much, for everything,”

“Oh boy, you’re going to be the death of me, Peanut,” you kissed his shoulder and pulled back from him again.

Something came over you at that moment. You looked in his eyes and thought you saw the same thing going through him. He looked at you with so much love, every little detail about you was on his mind.

You leaned forward an inch or so, not sure if this was the right move. What if he rejects you and you ruin your destroy your friendship? Then again, you were going to different colleges and wouldn’t see each other in school. But you wanted him in your life forever.

Peter was internally screaming. You leaned in, did that mean you wanted to kiss him? He wasn’t really sure if that’s what you were going for, so he froze, silently wishing for you to kiss him.

“Peter?” You whispered with your face only a few inches from his.

“Y/n?” He glanced at your lips before making eye contact with you.

“I love you,” you kept your eyes on him, too scared to look away.

“As in-,”

“I am in love with you,”

Because what the hell, you couldn’t spend another second without knowing if he felt the same way. Peter was speechless, only replaying your words in his head over and over.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, a smile spreading across his face.

You brought your hands up to cup his cheeks and pulled him in, your lips connecting.

All of those feelings, every moment you both wanted to spill the kind of love you really had for each other, was put into this kiss. Peter never wanted it to end, you holding him close and being this intimate felt so natural after holding back for so long.

The minuscule touches you shared turned into so much more. Peter held your waist, which he’d touch before but now it had a whole new meaning. He didn’t want to go too far without knowing what you were comfortable with.

You sucked on his bottom lip before slowly pulling back, your eyes filled with lust.

“Wow,” he exhaled, fingers brushing your lower back.

“Yeah,” you placed a hand under his chin and smirked, “I really want to do it again,”

He eagerly nodded, beating you to it this time and pressing his lips to yours. It felt like you had done it so many times more than once before, yet still just as amazing and new.

After a few minutes of blatant making out, hair messed with, lips were swollen, shallow breathing filling the room, you cupped his cheeks again and barely took your lips off of his.

“Do you-” you ran your thumbs over his cheekbones and took a moment to catch your breath, “Do you wanna go to my room?”

His brown eyes went wide, the thought of that making his head spin.

“Yeah, if- if that’s what you want,” he leaned into your touch and scratched the back of his neck.

You knew he did that when he got nervous.

“You’re sure?” You tilted your head and took his hands in yours.

“Yes, definitely- I just,” he paused and leaned his forehead on your chest, “you’d be my first,”

You kissed the top of his head and ran your hands through his hair. It’s not like you didn’t know that. You spent all of your time together so you’d know if he had a girlfriend…or boyfriend.

“I don’t have condoms so we can’t do it, but we don’t have to do anything at all if you don’t feel comfortable,” you reassured him and he looked up at you through his eyelashes, “we can start in my room and go from there, okay?”

“Okay,”

You got off of him, took his hand, and led him to your room. Both of you had a stupid smile there was no way of wiping off your faces.

“Sit down,” you told him and he listened, sitting on your bed with his back against the headboard.

You shut your door and locked it before getting onto your bed with him.

“Is this okay?” You asked, straddling his waist.

“More than,” he brought his hands to your waist and you leaned down, connecting your lips once again.

God, you couldn’t believe you went this long without being able to kiss Peter Parker.

You rocked your hips back and forth, the friction making him moan against your lips. You kissed down his jaw and then down to the spot below his ear, his chest rising and falling quicker beneath you.

“I love you,” he told you as you sucked on the sweet spot, earning a whimper from him.

“I know,” you whispered in his ear, your voice low and rough.

Your lips found their way down his neckline and you gestured for him to sit up so you could take off his shirt and you did the same, both articles of clothing forgotten.

He leaned back, this time laying down and you kissed down his chest, biting every once in a while. Before you got to his waistband, he stopped you.

“Wait, can I do s- something for you?”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you smiled and got off of him.

You traded places and he hesitated when brushing his hand over the band of your pants.

“Go ahead,” you lifted your hips and he gently pulled your bottoms and underwear down your legs, the only piece of clothing left was your bra.

He eyed you hungrily, mouth slightly parted. But he just sat there, hands on his thighs with no idea what to do. He understood the basic task but a wave of nervousness washed over him.

“You don’t have to,” you saw how hesitant he was with a small frown on his face, “I’ll make sure you do a good job and I don’t expect to be perfect the first time you go down on someone”

“Okay, and tell me if you don’t like it, please?”

“Of course, but you'll do great, I'm sure,” you nodded and gave him an encouraging smile

He let out a deep sigh, leaning down, and started placing tender kisses down your inner thighs, your heart racing as he got closer to your bare center.

“Now run your tongue upward,”

He did as he was told, enjoying following your orders. His hands held onto your upper thighs as he continued to use his tongue, licking up and down your slit, until you gave him the next direction.

“Find my clit,” you smirked and threaded your hand through his hair, “Nope- yep,”

You arched your back off of the bed when he started sucking on it. His tongue felt so good and he loved seeing you like this, hair messy, heavy breathing, your hands pulling on his hair. He could stay here forever.

“Good boy,” you said as a moan left your lips and he blushed at the praise, his pants feeling tighter by the second.

Peter continued to lick and suck on your core, a pattern developing as he got you closer and closer to your climax. He whined at your taste, determined to do a good job all of the way through.

Your thighs began to close around his head and he opened them more, your reaction having nothing on his super strength. Plus, nothing was going to stop him from getting you to cum.

“Oh my god Peter,” you threw your head back as your orgasm hit you, the amazing feeling all from Peter’s mouth.

He continued to lap up your release, assuming he should wait until you told him to stop. When you came down from your high, you pulled him back by his curls, a nervous smile on his face.

“That was so good,” you told him as you sat up and he was glad to receive your approval.

You pulled him in for a long kiss, your tongue slipping into his mouth. It was sloppy but neither of you cared, you just couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. Or mouths for that matter.

You reached back and unclipped your bra and Peter watched in awe as it fell from your shoulders. Yep, he had pictured you naked before, he’s in love with you so…duh. The real thing was better than any picture he painted in his head.

“You’re beautiful,” he slowly reached out, uncertain if you’d want him to touch your boobs.

“You’re gorgeous, Peter,” you placed his hands on your chest, “I always knew you liked tits, you’re a whore for boobs- aren’t you pretty boy?” you smirked and he whined at your teasing, taking one in his mouth.

“I asked you a question,” you pulled him back by his hair and he looked up at you, his round puppy dog eyes full of love.

“Yes I- I love yours,” he sputtered before you pressed his face back into your chest and he groaned when he was met with your soft skin again.

Your hand slid down his bare torso, tracing his abs. You reached his belt buckle which you managed to undo with one hand.

“I wanna see you cum, okay?”

He nodded, still sucking on your tits.

“Get up, take everything off,” you instructed and he made haste, getting up and pulling

You admired him while he stood there waiting for you to tell him what to do. His dick stood tall and his cheeks turned red with your eyes running over him.

You got up and walked over to him, your eyes dark, tits bouncing and you just wanted to touch him. You backed him against the wall and held your hand in from of his mouth, seeing if he’d understand what you wanted.

He cocked his head before you pulled his bottom lip and he immediately opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue and licking your hand. You licked it yourself after, making eye contact with him. He felt his dick twitch and you hadn’t even touched him yet.

“You like that?” You asked when you wrapped your hand around his shaft, pumping him agonizingly slow.

“Yes, so much,” he said, his breathing getting heavier, "p- please, more"

You quickened your pace, every move you made he reacted to. His mouth fell open when you used your other hand to cup his balls, squeezing a little.

“F- fuck,” his lip quivered as he got closer to his orgasm.

You dropped down to your knees, looking up at him as you licked from his base to the tip. He tilted his head back, not caring about hitting the wall. Your mouth felt amazing and you looked so fucking hot with his dick in your mouth.

“Gonna cum like a good boy?” You rubbed small circles on his thighs and he nodded, his face scrunching right before it hit him.

He let out a loud whine, followed by whimpers as he came into your mouth. You made sure to swallow every last drop, trying to act like it maybe tasted good...

“So pretty,” you told him, standing up and cupping his cheeks, soothing him as he relaxed.

“You’re amazing,” he was breathless and you pulled him over to your bed, helping him get under the covers.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom,” you kissed his forehead and smoothed his hair over, “you did so well,”

He grinned at your praise and pulled you closer, wanting to feel your bare skin on his.

“We should have a serious talk when I get back, okay?” You whispered in his ear and then kissed his cheek.

“Yeah, definitely, I don't want to stargaze by myself,”

=======

Taglist: @avengersbitch @criminalyetminimal

@quaksonhehe @marthakookie @t-bag2

#peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #peter x reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #perter parker y/n #spiderman smut #peter parker smut #mcu x reader #mcu smut #mcu spiderman #peter parker imagine

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neoheros · 3 years

Text

moving in — seijoh 4 x gn! reader

it’s been exactly two weeks since you’ve made the decision of moving in with your best friends, and so far, everything’s been a bit better than you expected.

when the idea was first pitched to you, you admit, you thought it was a very poorly written out joke shared over a few beers and the pitiful nostalgia of graduating— you were wrong.

they were alarmingly serious about this.

“just a few months ‘til we all head off for college.” hanamaki told you, his arm casually over your shoulder and you’ve known him long enough to know that pushing him off is futile.

“then do it without me.” you said, a lazy smile on your face as you continued to walk. “i’ll visit literally every day.”

“no, you won’t,” matsukawa said, his words laced with a soft chuckle, “you don’t ever go anywhere without being physically dragged off.”

“you don’t understand,” you smiled, “i have such a lovely room.”

iwaizumi fell next to you, his voice blunt, “you can have the biggest room.”

“that’s not entirely better.” you shrugged.

“at least think about it,” oikawa told you, his charming smile coating his tone and you found a bit of warmth in the reserved gaze you realize he only had for you, “for me.”

“as if that’s the selling point, shittykawa!”

“i am always the selling point, iwa-chan!”

you ignored their usual banter, moving away from the four as you quickened your steps and you sighed. “i’ll think about it.”

you don’t miss the shared grins they all give each other, knowing you well enough to understand that they’ve successfully wore you down and before you knew it, you were signing a lease to a four bedroom loft that you were lucky enough to afford.

it didn’t feel weird or anything, you’ve known these guys since forever and more, really the only problem you’ve had with this was the fact that you knew how much of a slob they’d all be to live with — not that you were any better — but hey, surely you were neater than four sweaty athletes.

which brings you to where you are now; just a few weeks after graduating from aoba johsai and barely even a few days since getting comfortable in your new temporary apartment.

you figured it was better than you expected.

hanamaki’s nice to keep around. he’s almost always just lounging in front of the tv, sometimes a controller in his hands, most of the time, his fingers running through his short trimmed hair as he shifts over numerous college application essays.

you’ve found yourself waking up at three am a few times to get yourself a cup of water only to see him to have fallen asleep on the coffee table with folders and envelopes around him.

sometimes you’d sit with him, sometimes you’d wake him up to help him trudge to his bed. either way, he’d always end up pulling your head close, giving you a quick kiss on the temple as he sleepily mumbles something along the lines of “thank you” or “good night”.

iwaizumi’s somewhat the same; buried in college prep and sorting through plane tickets as he made the ever so impressive decision to take his future abroad. you’d told him numerous times how proud he made you and he’d always give you back the warm grin he seemed to have reserved just for you.

he isn’t the last one you see off to bed, but he’s always the first to get up in the morning. no matter what time you wake up, he’s already there in the kitchen brewing a pot of coffee (much to your dismay since his blend is a tad bit bitter to your liking but you’ve never had the heart to tell him that).

(though truth be told, ever since iwaizumi found out you woke up at the crack of dawn, he’d begrudgingly fallen into the habit of waking up before you just so he could make you coffee before seeing you off for the day.

he hates waking up that early.

but he does like the smile you give him when you walk out the door.)

you spend the most time with matsukawa. his schedule was freer than the rest of the boys so if you ever needed to go anywhere, he’d already be there to insist that he came with you.

he’d pick you up from your day job, a lazy grin encasing his face the minute he sees you from the car window— you looked tired, worn out from the ruthless retail, and though he couldn’t say that to your face, he sure is glad he’d have an excuse to take you for coffee before heading home.

oikawa’s the busiest. his taxing schedule now so much worse after his decision to go to argentina. (you told him you’d miss him, he told you you didn’t have to, and begged you to try and fit in his luggage.) all that aside, you barely got to see him; you’d wake up finding him already gone for the day, and come home to him passed out on the couch.

some nights he’d come home later than you, too tired to know which is left or right, and more than once, he’d end up in your room, clocking out the second he crashes on your bed.

you don’t push him off, you never had the heart to. you missed him. not that you’d ever say it to his face, but he hasn’t even left for college and you were already missing him.

it’s a sunday morning— one of the few times a week all of you had a free day, and normally you’d all just end up sleeping in, most days you’d get up and enjoy breakfast with the other four, but when the bed felt too warm and too peaceful, you’d rather just waste the day away in your room.

a pair of arms pull you out of your sleep, your head softly falling against someone’s chest and you blink— you went to bed alone last night.

“what the hell, shittykawa!” you yell, sitting up and pushing him off of you.

oikawa groans, having just been brutally woken up, he pouts, ��... you spend too much time with iwa-chan, you sound exactly like him.”

“go sleep in your own room!”

“but — you have the softest bed!”

“no?” matsukawa says, leaning on your door frame looking like he’d just woken up. his voice is groggy, almost annoyed, “i have the softest bed.”

oikawa pushes you away, ignoring your groans as he laid back on your mattress and he says, smile wide, “that’s not true— feel this.”

matsukawa narrows his eyes, walking up to him without even acknowledging your constant complaints of ‘no! do not feel this, go away!’

he sits on the edge of your bed, taking a second before falling on his back and taking in your white comforters.

“what the fuck?” he says, “what the hell, why do you have the softest bed?”

“because i’m me.” you tell them both, rolling your eyes as you realize that you probably won’t be getting your bed back anytime soon.

hanamaki walks in barely a moment later, his hand tiredly rubbing his left eye as he yawns away the last of his sleep.

he blinks, unsure what to make out of the scene in front of him. matsukawa and oikawa pulled on your duvet, pushing each other off every second as they fought on who got a bigger part of the blanket, and you, well — you had your head propped up on your headboard, muttering under your breath as you tried to push the two off your mattress.

“what’s going on?” he asks, a smile already forming on his face as he recognized the early morning chatter.

you look up, eyes brightening at the sight of hanamaki, he was going to help you.

“makki! my love!” you yelped, “get them out of my room, please.”

“no. makki will not.” matsukawa grins, “did you know this is the softest bed in the apartment?”

hanamaki frowns, “i have the softest bed in the apartment.”

oikawa grins, “feel this!”

you take it back. oikawa tooru might not make it to argentina after all, not when you were going to kill him in cold blood after this.

before you could even protest, oikawa pushes you more to the side, clearing some space for hanamaki who (so traitorously) plopped down on his side beside you.

“what the fuck,” he says, eyes widening as he moved around for a more comfortable position.

matsukawa nods, “that’s what i said too.”

“why do you have the softest bed?” oikawa groans, “we’re the ones who play volleyball— we’re basically sore all the time.”

you blink, “i was sleeping.”

they ignore you.

“you want the bed?” you ask, getting up from your mattress, and you glare. “fine. keep it.”

“wait, we were just joki—”

you ignore what they were going to say, slamming your door on your way out, and you curse under your breath every step of the way to the room right across from yours.

iwaizumi’s room. somewhere cold, peaceful, quiet. you ought to remind him to keep his door locked, but right now, as you stood by his doorway, drowsy and almost desperate to go back to sleep, you’re thankful he doesn’t.

you don’t say another word, walking directly up to his bedside and plopping down on the open space next to him.

he stirs, and you take his movement with a sigh.

“move.” you tell him, a pillow in hand and he looks up at you with sleep plastered on his face.

iwaizumi does as you say, moving deeper into his side and he yawns, “what’re you doing?”

“we are going to sleep.” you tell him, snuggling deeper in his covers as you got yourself comfortable.

you look at him, “unless you want to join those three idiots outside.”

iwaizumi ignores the warmth coming up on his face, pushing his pulsing heart aside, he shrugs, throwing an arm over you, and he mutters, “not even gonna ask what happened.”

(you fall back asleep quick after that, but that doesn’t last long as iwaizumi’s door opens again, oikawa going on and on with complaints about how iwaizumi was obviously your favorite, matsukawa barely caring as he pushes past him and just crashes in between you both and hanamaki declaring a dog pile as he so ruthlessly jumps on top of you.

it was horrible.

you wouldn’t have it any other way with them.)

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el-im · 3 years

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ok no one cares but i am once again thinking about how andrew j. robinson’s writing in a stitch in time fundamentally changed the the way i’ve come to view garak and how i interpret the “Of all the stories you told me, which ones were true and which ones weren't?” / "My dear Doctor, they're all true." / "Even the lies?" / "Especially the lies.” interaction from the wire (which initially i was very thrown off by). by suggesting that the stories garak fabricates are indicative of how he chooses to define himself, i think the stories from the wire serve specifically to illustrate what garak most covets/coveted in life, and that they contain elements of the circumstances/relationships/motivations/etc. that garak never had, or were beyond his reach. by making up these particular circumstances, garak is juxtaposing his words against the actuality of his life, and by that comparison his lies demonstrate the truth of his relationship with tain, his work in the obsidian order, and his personal convictions...

Story 1: “During the occupation, I was a Gul in the Cardassian Mechanised Infantry. We were stationed just outside the Bajoran Capital. Shortly before the withdrawal, a handful of Bajoran prisoners escaped from my custody. My aide, a man named Elim, tracked them to a Cardassian shuttle about to depart for Terok Nor. Elim got aboard, but the captain refused to let him search the ship, because he claimed he was under strict orders from Gul Dukat to depart immediately. So I had the shuttle destroyed, killing the escapees, Elim, and ninety seven Cardassian civilians... I followed my orders. None of those prisoners escaped off of Bajor alive. Unfortunately as it turned out, one of the passengers on the shuttle was the daughter of a prominent military official. I was stripped of my rank and commission, and exiled from Cardassia.”

-> what i get from this one is that garak wants a) companionship (in this “aide”, elim), b) authority (in my mind, this is more of a past item of desire. in his youth in the obsidian order, he wanted to emulate tain, and was indoctrinated to think that power should be sought after above all else, and not relinquished), and c) ruthlessness. the crowning jewel of tain’s service as the head of the obsidian order, garak grew up with detachment and brutality being demonstrated as the guiding principle of leadership, command, delegation... the funny thing about all these garak episodes, and which I am glad to see that the fandom so readily picked up on (see one of my favorite posts: “i don’t understand why ds9 fandom casts garak as some sort of suave oscar wilde daddy dom when he’s clearly the kind of older man who gets trashed at a casino at 3pm on thursdays and tips dabo boys extra to hold him while he cries”) is that for all his posturing, for all his discussion about the difference between cardassian principles and “federation dogma”, for all we actually, genuinely learn about what garak did during his time in the obsidian order (for all interested in garak’s life pre-terok nor/ds9, please take this free link and read a stitch in time it’s one of like... two trek novels i’d ever recommend and is so good i promise <3), for all we learn about what he did after (the assassination of senator vreenak “in in the pale moonlight”), garak still doesn’t... come off as hardened, or unfeeling. he repeatedly demonstrates a willingness to put himself in harm's way to save the people he cares about (most notably, bashir/martok during their time in the jem hadar prison, but even once going to cardassia to save kira, who detests/detested him (depending on if you believe their relationship changed over the course of the show) and risking arrest/execution by returning to cardassia during his exile). for all his pretending otherwise (from second skin: GARAK: “I have no intention of sacrificing my life to save yours. If it looks like we're in danger of being captured... if there are any signs of trouble at all... you're on your own. SISKO: Mister Garak, I believe that's the first completely honest thing you've ever said to me.”), Garak isn’t selfish, or at the least isn’t constantly, predictably selfish. He’s self-sacrificial more often that he’s given credit for, he’s occasionally kind. I think the first story he tells in the wire is so indicative of the inner conflict he feels. inside him is a child who was brought up to revel in the glory of violence in the middle of a military occupation of another world. there is a part of him that persists in believing strength is only fortification, obfuscation, invulnerability. and yet there is a part of him now wrestling with the belief that he can only be saved through honesty, by telling bashir about the implant and why it’s there and who he is that warrants it. one of the most remarkable things about this wholly incredible episode is this struggle between these two parts of himself.

and really, garak isn’t stubborn, or stupid. he knows if he wants to save his life (and for a moment... for some inexplicable reason, he does), he’ll have to give bashir some tipping hint. he has to tell him enough of the truth to give him a way to help him, and that’s what all these stories come down to. he is hinting as best he can. he is explaining as much as possible, so as not to betray the angry little boy inside him who sees this addiction as a weakness, who sees his attachment to bashir, and to his life on the station as a vulnerability, exploited. then there’s a second layer in which (after discovery that garak is elim) the audience gleans that garak (in his youth) desperately wanted direction, for someone to tell him what do to and how to do it--that he wanted to be excused from his actions on the basis of “following direct orders”... god, but then I think about how garak chooses to kill the figure of elim he paints here. paired with the resignation to his own fate at this point in the episode (garak knows a replacement device can’t be obtained, that his body is too reliant on the implant to function on its own, and that withdrawal without supplement will be deadly... which is to say garak is sure he is going to die), this seems so poignant. does he wish he’d have died years ago? killed in some random shoot out at the orders of someone higher up on the obsidian order’s chain of command? and can you imagine that? tain would bury the report so as to conceal his son’s involvement with the order (sentimentality always coming second to security, of course), letting this “elim garak” be listed as some citizen at the wrong place at the wrong time, a random victim of the violence of the bajoran occupation... garak, in an instant, would be forgotten. brushed aside by his father in favor of obscuring the actual operation undergone.

in the end i think the most i get from this version of the story is that subtle death wish. if he had been a less important operative, or if he had died then, he wouldn’t be enduring this now (return to the conversation about a lifetime serving cardassia re: “the neverending sacrifice” at the opening of the ep....). part of me believes garak wishes he would have died then, before he could have been exiled, before setting up his shop on the station, before meeting bashir...

garashir side note: “At first, he just wanted to have sex with him. That's absolutely clear. That's all he wanted from him. ‘Come to my shop, I got some nice clothes for you... but you'll have to change first.’ But then it really got complicated, especially when Garak's addiction and despair began to surface. He needed someone to share it with.” - Andy Robinson, from “What We Left Behind”. / “What we should've done, after The Wire in season two, the episode where Bashir helps him get over his addiction, we should've had Garak come out to Bashir as a gay Cardassian... Garak comes out as gay in season two, we have five seasons to play that Bashir and Garak relationship. Where that would have gone, who the hell knows, but it could've been so cool.” - Ira Steven Behr, from “What We Left Behind”.

Considering these two quotes from the actor who played Garak and the head writer on DS9, another thing about this episode I’m throwing my two cents in for is the obvious implications for this deepening the relationship between garak and bashir. One of the most frustrating things about this episode is how much it just begs for more, more, more. The casual banter about literature they start up at the beginning of the episode, the refusal on garak’s part of letting bashir take him the the infirmary (hello cardassian stubbornness, the whole scene reeks so much of ‘I do not want you to see me vulnerable, I want you to think me strong and independent and not in danger’. the whole charade reminds me so much of a wounded animal putting on a brave face so as to not be found out. garak does not want bashir (specifically!) to see him sick, to see him needing. he does not want to admit that he needs his help, that he needs him)...

then everything else that follows that, bashir worriedly reaching out to his friends for help and advice: talking to o’brien about his concerns for garak and asking about retrieving the cardassian medical files, then to dax, who tells him flatly “It sounds like you're taking this personally.... It's not like you two are really friends.”. the affront on bashir’s part at hearing that. “It's just that Garak and I have been having lunch together once a week for more than a year now. You'd think he'd come to trust me a little!” he exclaims. then how defeated and angry he is (violently stabbing her plant with mycorrhizae), the strong thread of bitterness humming in his honey-sweet voice, “If he doesn't want my help, that's his prerogative.”

there’s something so magnificent about the timeline here. how long they’ve known each other by now, the fact that bashir is the only person garak really considers his own on the station (“it isn’t bashir who dies, is it? Ira, you’re not going to kill off julian, are you? I mean, where does that leave me? I mean, he’s my only relationship in this show! I don’t have him, I have nothing. I’m hanging out in space with nobody to talk to!” - DS9Doc's Ira Steven Behr pushes for more DS9 in HD!)... it’s so plainly laid out that bashir is the only thing garak has, the only reason he has to be curious about what else life could bring him at this point in his life, so far from home, from his family, from the only job he ever felt he had been suited for.

which is not even to mention julian’s reaction to this first story. “So now you know, Doctor. I hope I haven't shattered too many of your illusions.” garak concludes. There is a pregnant pause of still hesitation (in which i imagine garak is reeling--because, at the same time, i think, despite this relay being an attempt to communicate his own misery, these stories are also made to push something in bashir. Garak is at the end of his rope, drifting (almost) untethered into unknown space and he is reaching out in the hope that julian, (despite, despite, despite...) will take his hand. Garak is trying to see just how far Julian will go to save him, to forgive him. He is trying to discover if there is an exception to his “federation dogma”, if there is really truth to that myth of human kindness he’d heard so much about... in this moment, Garak is playing this horrific, dangerous, loving, desperate game of cat and mouse. “Could you still love me if I...” he seems to say, and believes at some point he’ll be responded to with a “no”, but hopes, against his better judgement, beyond belief, that he wont be. And then Julian looks up at him, faces close enough for Garak to feel his steady breath on his cheeks as he says, calmly, “Listen to me, Garak. Right now I'm not concerned with what you did in the past. I'm simply not going to walk out of here and let you die. We need to turn that implant off and whatever withdrawal symptoms or side effects you may experience, I promise I'll help you through them. I need to know where that triggering device is. Where is it?”

And that line is it for me, beyond so much of the other golden ones in this episode. This is the first time that Garak hears that unequivocal acceptance, and it just sends him staggering. In all his life, he’s never been faced with love like that. His father pushed him away, let him believe for years that he wasn’t his son. Mila didn’t, or couldn’t, or wouldn’t put up a fight for him when Tain exiled him...

this is one moment in ds9 where i am particularly grateful for ds9 being filmed on a 4:3 aspect ratio that forced characters so close together to be in a shot. in this scene, a line from Shauna Barbosa’s “GPS”, Cape Verdean Blues comes back to me, and I look at the pair of them so close on the screen, Julian so open and Garak so agast, and I just think, “You kiss the back of my legs and I want to cry. Only / the sun has come this close, only the sun.”

all is to say: andy robinson himself has said that bashir is the only relationship garak has. assuming garak’s killing of elim in this first story is indicative of his own wish that he might have died during his work with the obsidian order (and thus been spared exile, the torture of life on the station, the gradual dependency he forged on the implant, and the inevitable withdrawal he was going to experience), there necessitates a question of why garak should agree to treatment (thus saving his life) only to continue living on a station he found so hellish in the past*

*oh... the magnificent (perfectly summative) conversation between Tain and Bashir... “BASHIR: He's dying. TAIN: And you're trying to save him. BASHIR: That's right. TAIN: Strange. I thought you were his friend. BASHIR: I suppose I am. TAIN: Then you should let him die. After all, for Garak, a life in exile is no life at all.”

to me, this question has three answers: 1. he is appeasing an insistent julian (though this begets the suggestion that garak doesn’t have much faith in julian’s treating him--in which case, garak decides that one of his last acts in life will be making julian happy) 2. he is choosing to live because he is... intrigued by julian. because he likes his company and the meals they share and the books they trade... and because he is curious to see where this relationship will go. Julian has made his life bearable (dare I say enjoyable? see: “GARAK: [They] left me to live out my days with nothing to look forward to but having lunch with you. BASHIR: I'm sorry you feel that way. I thought you enjoyed my company. GARAK: I did. And that's the worst part. I can't believe that I actually enjoyed eating mediocre food and staring into at your smug, sanctimonious face. ”) and has thus given him some reason to get up in the morning, even if it is for a frivolous little lunch appointment in another few days or 3. he is choosing to live not for julian, but directly because of him. even if this relationship has a platonic reading, it can’t be denied that julian opened up a new world for garak, and if nothing else was able to stay his boredom/disgust with life on the station

Story 2: GARAK: There was a time, Doctor, oh there was a time when I was a power. The protégé of Enabran Tain himself. Do you have any idea what that means?... Tain was the Obsidian Order. Not even the Central Command dared challenge him. And I was his right hand. My future was limitless until I threw it away. BASHIR: You mean when you had that shuttle shot down to stop those prisoners from escaping? GARAK: Stop them? I only wish that I had stopped them. BASHIR: You didn't? GARAK: No, Doctor, my disgrace was worse than that. Unimaginably worse. BASHIR: What could you have possibly done worse than that? GARAK: I let them go. It was the eve of the Cardassian withdrawal. Elim and I were interrogating five Bajorans. They were children, Doctor. None of them were older than fourteen years old. They knew nothing. They lived in bombed-out rooms, scrounged for food on the streets. They were filthy and they stank. The room was freezing cold, the air was like ice, and suddenly the whole exercise seemed utterly meaningless. All I wanted was a hot bath and a good meal. So I let them go. I gave them whatever latinum I had in my pockets, and opened the door, and flung them back into the street. Elim couldn't believe his eyes. He looked at me as if I were insane.”

-> from this version of the story there’s a much clearer division between the elim garak (a young agent of the obsidian order baptized in fire) he was in his youth and the elim garak he is now (a disgraced former agent, exiled, alone save for one ambitious, self assured federation doctor). this, i think, seems to show the separation between what this character “elim” (young garak) wanted: which was uncompromising brutality and dedication to his work, and what present garak wants: peace, a full belly, the ability to be charitable (specifically to young, hungry bajorans)...

this story to me is one that best places this contemporary incarnation of garak relative to his bajoran counterparts on the station. in the beginning of this episode, when telling bashir why he initially chose to activate the implant, he speaks about how he, as the only cardassian living on ds9, is viewed by the bajorans living there. (“Living on this station is torture for me, Doctor. The temperature is always too cold, the lights always too bright. Every Bajoran on the station looks at me with loathing and contempt.”) In this story, by releasing the children and giving them the latinum he had, he’s trying to repent to Julian, asking to be forgiven for the part he played in the occupation of bajor by showing that he was/is (depending on how you view the timeline of the progression of his attitudes) sympathetic to them, and that he regrets the hand he had in bringing war, famine, and subjugation to them.

Story 3: “GARAK: Elim wasn't my aide. He was my friend. We grew up together. We were closer than brothers. For some reason, Enabran Tain took a liking to us. Before long, we were both powerful men in the Obsidian Order. They called us the Sons of Tain. Even the Guls feared us. And then there was a scandal. Someone in the Order was accused of letting some Bajoran prisoners escape. There were constant rumours of who was going to be implicated. Fingers were being pointed at me. By then Tain had retired to the Arawath Colony. He couldn't protect me, so I panicked. I did everything in my power to make sure that Elim was accused instead of me. I altered records, planted evidence, only to discover that he'd beaten me to it. BASHIR: He betrayed you first? GARAK: Elim destroyed me. Before I knew what was going on, I was sentenced to exile. And the irony is, I deserved it. Oh, not for the reasons they claimed, but because of what I had tried to do to Elim, my best friend.”

-> whenever I think back to this, my first impression remains that this is one of the stories where Bashir is considered. At this point, Garak’s been transferred from his room to the infirmary. Despite turning the implant off, toxins are continuing to accumulate in his lymphatic systems. He’s been sad (even woke bashir up with his weeping), he’s been angry (destroyed the vase and flipped the desk in his room, attacked bashir...), and now he’s calm, and tired. He thinks this is the end. He refuses to have the implant turned back on, which nurse jabara estimates might give him another week to live. This is the end of the line for him, and he’s accepting it with dignity and grace. He goes to release Bashir from his obligation to him “you’re done enough, Doctor. More than I deserve...” and goes to tell Bashir “the truth”. To me, this is his goodbye. Even if it isn’t a true story, this is the gift he’s giving Bashir. This is what he (spinner of wonderful lies, obfuscating agent of the despicable obsidian order) can give him as a parting gift--it is what he wants him to have.

in this story, Garak is not friendless, as he is on the station. He has a close relationship with someone (’see, then, doctor?’ he seems to ask playfully, life sputtering out of his eyes. ‘i am capable of it!’)... and yet, there is also betrayal. It reminds me of an assurance, in a way. “Bashir,” he seems to say, the entire weight of all the good doctor’s efforts to save him pressing down on his every word, “look what might have come to you had I allowed you to care for me. There is only danger for you to find in me.” In this, Elim stands in place of Bashir. A steadfast friend who Garak works against for the sake of self preservation. In this moment, Garak is pleading with the man standing above him next to the biobed. He is insisting Bashir be grateful for the shallowness of their relationship (something I Garak ensured deliberately), and telling him that, though he is grateful for him, that if they had been closer, Garak would only have caused him pain.

The heart of this story is Garak’s appraisal of his own self worth. Regardless of how much he’s changed since his time in the order, he persists in thinking he functions in the world to cause harm, much so that it is the only thing he’s able to do. Garak sees himself as the knife in the backs of others, or the hand raised, dagger in clutch.

the second thing i see is contained wholly within the line: “By then Tain had retired to the Arawath Colony. He couldn't protect me, so I panicked.” aside from assurances made to bashir, i think the purpose of this speech is to demonstrate (in the fashion of the lies being true) that garak wanted, and still wants safety. he wanted someone (Tain) to come to his defense then. while this extends to the implication that garak wanted tain, as his father, to stand up for him out of pride, or love, or even a perfunctory sense of parental commitment rather than exile him (a recurring desire illustrates/suggested in the show/books), i also think its perfectly suited to the care julian is exhibiting in tending to him in this episode. for all garak’s refusal to acknowledge his pain (a mere headache, as he claimed when they stood outside the replimat), for all his refusal to go to the infirmary when they meet at quark’s later, the care julian is constantly exhibiting through this episode is what garak is most endeared by. it is the thing he wanted most in his youth, and the thing now (because it was denied to him then) he finds so difficult to accept. there are many (many) instances throughout the show of garak and bashir talking about the extension of federation help/kindness, and this being something bashir embodies, btu this is one of the illustrations that sticks with me because of its particular placement. In the story, Garak wanted protection. He was alone, and afraid, and wanted help. As it now stands, he is not alone, he is calm, and has help. That is perhaps the most startling revelation for him of all.

and last but not least another... intriguing part of all garak’s stories is his repeated separation of himself and elim. the illusion of separation is one of the most intriguing (and heartbreaking) aspects of these story to me. garak has always struck me as the kind of character who sees grief and regret as an impetus for amputation. he believes what is unpleasant or unnecessary about him he can cut off and live through. he believes he can build up a wall between himself and what he doesn’t want to see or experience without repercussion (this being why he activated the implant in the first place). by making elim and himself two separate people he is not only distancing himself from whatever it was he really did, thus taking responsibility for it in part and allowing the other half of himself turn away in disgust and without sympathy, but suggesting that he cannot be culpable entirely for what it was he did. in each of his stories, the blame is to be shared, divided. the hardest part of all of this to swallow is that even after all this time, he’s begging for someone to spare him of the crushing loneliness of disgrace, begging for someone to understand fully what he’s done, accept him, and shoulder a part of his burden, much so that he creates an entirely new incarnation of himself just to sit with him in hell.

anyway ive also been fucking around on memory alpha and this was intriguing to me so im putting it here:

"When I was writing the story," stated Robert Hewitt Wolfe, "the movie Schindler's List had just come out and Ira was saying, 'Maybe he was Schindler; maybe he was the guy who let the prisoners go.' And then it was, 'Maybe he wasn't; maybe he was the Butcher of Budapest.' So we just kept telling all these lies, and I think the truth lies somewhere in there. Maybe he did let people go. Maybe he did shoot down the ship. Who knows?" (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Companion (p. 141))

#trek #elim garak #sorry for longposting but once again i am thinking about him (garak)#he's just such a fantastic character that i read SO MUCH into #its a shame they didnt do more w him really im upset he wasnt as cherished by fans when the show was in production as he obviously is now #also. reminds me why i have this url #he's deeply fascinating and i love him and hate him and sympathize with him and think hes unforgivable and i ....#ANYWAY i am not even going to talk about the . hand holding 'i forgive you... for whatever it is you did' thing because that opens a BREACH #this is one of the longest posts ive ever written on this god awful site #anyway it is from the heart #i love him so much and i love this episode.

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