#not even super consciously as well more in that half-awake state | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

galamalion · 6 months

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┈ ✧.* 𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ summary﹕you experience a shameful hangover after you night out at the baratie, then go get breakfast with your new friends. how could anything bad happen at breakfast?

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing﹕one piece x fem!reader

┈ ✧.* chapters﹕[i] [ii] [iii] [iv]

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ w/c﹕3.1k

┈ ✧.* chapter ii﹕drunken memories

Your first night at the university was a rough one.

Upon waking up in your bed—and thankfully not the street—you immediately felt sick. You threw your blankets off and looked around the room, standing up to see Vivi and Nami still lying in bed, the latter looking rather worse for wear, tossing and turning with her blankets.

You threw open the door to the bathroom and sprinted inside, leaping across to hunch over the toilet to puke your guts up. Your stomach was never the strongest, and unfortunately neither was your alcohol tolerance. Speaking of, how much did you drink? You only got a small glass of wine to fit in with the Italian vibe, and you hadn’t even drank half of it! But—oh, that’s right, Nami was there.

A memory—or rather, memories— came flooding back in an instant, all of Nami ordering small little fruity drinks. She insisted you tried all of them, ‘just a sip!’ she said. Well, all those little sips clearly did a number on you.

“Damn you, Nami…” you grumbled, stumbling back to bed.

After exiting the bathroom, you picked up your phone from your desk, noticing it had been charging. Did someone do that for you as well? It would have struck you as kind if you hadn’t been hungover. All you could think about was your pounding headache and upset stomach.

Before inputting your password, you noticed you had a text from one ‘Mr. Prince,’ a name and number you hadn’t recognized.

| Mr. Prince: Hello Sleeping Beauty!! <;333 | Mr. Prince: I hope you slept alright, you got were pretty smashed after Baratie | Mr. Prince: but not in a bad way!! in a super cute tipsy kind of way!!!! | Mr. Prince: Also it’s Sanji!! I put my number in your phone so you wouldn’t be confused or anything!! | Mr. Prince: Luffy saw and also put his, and then Usopp wanted to put his, and then Zoro decided to put his…… | Mr. Prince: Anyways, just text me when you wake up Sleeping Beauty, just want to know that you’re safe!! <333 ^3^

Were you really the drunk one in this situation? You were pretty sure you hadn’t even spoken to him, only remembering his flirty attitude and writing him off as a playboy. But if the name in your phone was anything to go by, he seemed more like a Prince Charming-esque character.

| You: i’m ok | You: thanks :)

You hoped the smiley face would help you sound like less of a prick. It was hard to be friendly after years with no friends, and you were doing your best to adjust to the sudden change.

Before returning to bed you chugged a glass of water for your nausea and headache, praying the pain would go away after your short nap. Nami and Vivi would probably be awake by then too, giving you an even better reason to take this nap. And maybe your dreams would be more pleasant than your current state of consciousness. Nausea doesn’t follow you into sleep, right? Right?

“‘m not drunk…” you mumbled, staggering out of the restaurant with your new friends in tow.

“Come on, ____!” Luffy begged, trying to drag you down the sidewalk. “It’s time to go home!”

“No use arguing with a drunk, Luffy,” A voice chimed in, slowly getting closer to your location.

“This isn’t home~” you hiccuped, “‘is college!”

“Alright, let’s go…” the voice spoke, leaning down near you. “Arms around me, darling.”

You felt yourself being hoisted up, and despite your drunken flailing, your front fell firm against a solid back.

‘Smells good…’ you thought, laying your head on the warm structure before you.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart,” the voice whispered to you. “Just keep everything inside and we’ll have a wonderful conclusion to this wonderful night.”

“Yer’ warm…” you mumbled, snuggling your head into their neck.

For a moment you were able to focus, seeing the bright lights of downtown flicker all around the streets, as well as the blonde head of hair directly in front of you. It looked soft, like that Chinese cotton candy stuff you’d heard about. What was the name again? Would his hair taste like it? No, better not to try now…wait for later, when he’s not looking.

He? Oh, that’s right, Sanji’s blond. Or did he have red hair? You were having a difficult time remembering. But you did know he was a flirt, and not a good one. It wasn’t gonna work on you, even if his hair smelled delicious…

Thousands of thoughts raced through your mind, and their constant thrum slowly lulled you into sleep, head still resting on Sanji’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah, that happened,” you mumbled drowsily, half asleep.

The conclusion of your dream-memory had roused you awake, your muscles slightly achy after only an hour of sleep. You really were that drunk, and not the ‘cute tipsy kind’ like Sanji said. But college was supposed to be a learning experience, and last night you learned the valuable lesson of watching your liquor.

You hoped Sanji didn’t take your drunken rambles the wrong way. But you didn’t voice all of your thoughts, just that he was warm! He didn’t know that you thought he smelt good. Unless your sniffing was really loud…

Oh God, what if you were sniffing him really loudly? At that point he probably just thought you were weird. But he called you a cute drunk, right? That meant something! But then again, you hardly knew him. And yet you had his number!

Your obsessive pondering was interrupted by another text, and from Sanji no less. Was he going to confront you? He seemed so pleasant in his last texts, what more does he have to say?

'Just stay calm, stay cool, and stay casual,’ you breathed, ‘if you pretend like you don’t know, maybe he’ll pretend like he doesn’t know!’

| Mr. Prince: HI | Mr. Prince: GOOD MORNING | Mr. Prince: WANT 2 GET BRAKFAST?

‘What the fuck?’ you thought, quickly typing a response.

| You: breakfast? | You: also why are you typing in caps lol | Mr. Prince: IT LUFFY STOL SANJI PHONE RUNNING

‘Well that explains it,’ you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

| You: didn’t you also put your number in my phone?

A moment passed without a text back, leaving you anxious for Luffy’s safety. Sanji wouldn’t hurt him too bad, would he? You soon got your answer through another text.

The picture in question was of Luffy holding a much smaller, cheerful boy who looked to be about 13, but if Luffy just met him, he had to be a college student. Unless Luffy kidnapped a local child, which you wouldn’t put past him. Luffy looked worse for wear despite his classic grin, having a large bump on his head and a very angry Sanji behind him, mid scream.

You giggled at the image and got out of bed, preparing to wake Nami and Vivi up. But after standing up, you noticed that both of them were gone. Did they leave without you? How long were you asleep for? It was just a small nap, you woke up in the middle of the night, after all. They probably thought you were weird after that night out, saw you still asleep and snuck out without alerting you—

“Good morning, ____!” Vivi’s voice called out as the door swung open.

You jumped backwards at the sudden intrusion, subsequently tripping over your feet and falling flat on your butt.

“Oh my gosh,” Vivi rushed over to you, “I’m so sorry, I thought you’d still be in bed! If I had known I would have—”

“What’s done is done, Vi,” Nami stepped into the room, “one apology is more than enough…”

You glanced up at Nami, noticing her familiarly sour expression.

“Hungover?” you asked.

“Hungover,” she sighed, fumbling over to her closet to change.

“I made some tea for Nami to help her,” Vivi offered, picking up the small pot of hot tea. “If you would like a cup, I can pour you a cup!”

“Thanks, Vivi…” you smiled, accepting the fresh cup from her. It tasted sweet, with just a slight tingle of mint within the brew. Even if it didn’t cure your headache, at least it tasted good.

“Hey,” you stood up from your spot on the floor. “Luffy texted me and asked if we wanted to get breakfast with the guys again. Are you guys cool with that?”

Nami immediately sprung up as if she wasn’t hungover two seconds ago.

“Sure! Anything to get to his brother!”

“How about you, Vivi?” you asked.

“I would love to,” she replied gracefully.

With that matter settled, the three of you prepared for the day and left together towards the dining hall.

The three of you entered the dining hall, grabbing breakfast and reconvening at one of the numerous tables. You didn’t see Luffy and company when you walked in, and you didn’t see them after sitting down either. Maybe they were at one of the outer tables?

| You: u here luf? Delivered 9:34 | You: earth to luffy? Delivered 9:39

Memories of Luffy’s carefree nature danced in your head, and with that in mind you decided to text a different member of the party. One with more sense. The question, however, was who?

Despite your pleasant conversation with Zoro, you felt like he might leave you on read, and not because of his stoic attitude, no. He gave you an archaic vibe, like your grandparents asking you for help sending a text. So he was off the list.

Usopp was your best bet, but after careful consideration you decided against it. You hadn’t had a conversation with him, and despite his seemingly more mature attitude—at least compared to Luffy—he gave you a cowardly vibe.

And that left Sanji. The most sensible? Maybe, maybe not. But, you were nervous to text him. The texts he sent you made you feel tiny butterflies in your stomach. It wasn’t his flirting that caused that tickling, it was the care he put into contacting you. He didn’t have to text you, but he chose to.

You felt stupid, like the kind of childish stupid where you have a crush on the kid who lets you borrow their pencil. But you were older, more mature. You knew not to read into every little message and movement of a person. So you could text Sanji, easy peasy!

| You: hey sanji, u guys at the dining hall? Read 9:39 | Mr. Prince: I’m sosososo sorry my Princess!!! | Mr. Prince: We let moss head lead us to the dining hall and we got lost ;o; | Mr. Prince: Lesson learned!! heading over asap!!! ^3^

“Alright, looks like they’re on their way,” you sighed, looking up to your friends.

“Are you kidding me? They’re the ones who wanted to meet!” Nami grumbled, “what gives?”

“According to Sanji, they let Zoro lead them here, but then they got lost.”

“What the hell? Their dorms are, like, fifty feet away? How the hell do you get lost?” Nami scowled.

“I believe that’s a question for Zoro,” you replied, taking a bite of your toast.

Ten minutes later and your rag-tag crew of misfits barrelled into the dining hall, almost knocking over a dozen students on their way in.

“____!” Luffy called out, heading spinning around as he searched for the three of you.

“Over here,” you yelled, raising your hand up.

You should have realized the consequences of your actions sooner, as Luffy hurled himself at the three of you at full force. There weren’t many options to ensure safety, besides cover your heads or duck under the table, which you and Vivi immediately did.

Nami, on the other hand, stood up and pulled her fist back. Luffy was going too fast to avoid her punch, and knowing how powerful Nami could get when she was angry, there was no way he’d be able to tank it without injury.

It passed by in slow motion, you and Vivi peeking up to see the collision, Usopp yelling in fear, Zoro and Sanji running to try and stop their friend, and the remaining student population watching in horror.

And just like that, it was over. Luffy laid on the ground, utterly defeated by Nami’s strength. A small bump arose on his head, slowly growing in height.

“Jeez, Nami,” you coughed, “nice…shot?”

“Thanks!” she giggled, flexing her surprisingly muscular arm. “I like to keep people on their toes. If you two ever need a strong-arm, just call me, ‘kay?”

“A-alright,” you stuttered.

Why did you stutter? You weren’t scared of Nami, were you? No, this wasn’t fear, it was more like awe. But not the kind you feel when you see someone do a card trick. More like when—oh, dear. The butterflies were back, fluttering around in your stomach, bouncing off the walls of your intestines, scattering through your body and hitting all of your nerves—

“Luffy!” Usopp and a boy—Chopper, if you remembered correctly— screamed, rushing over to cradle the body of their companion.

“You killed him!” Usopp declared, pointing an accusatory finger at Nami.

“Actually, he’s alive,” Chopper chimed in, “he’s just sleeping.”

“He’s what?” Nami and Usopp deadpanned.

Luffy shot up like a zombie rising from the grave, earning a shriek from Usopp. He stretched his arms above his head, letting out a long yawn.

“Oh boy, what happened?” Luffy asked, looked around at the crowd of spectators before he landed on you. “Hey, ____!”

You gave him a small wave, trying to keep your horrified expression hidden behind an apprehensive smile. Before you could get a word out, however, Luffy was quickly sent back into the ground by a punch from Sanji and Zoro.

“You idiot,” Zoro growled, “way to cause a commotion.”

“You scared my lovely ladies!” Sanji hissed, turning to flash a reassuring smile at you three. “I hope you’re alright, my Princess!”

“I just wanted to say hi to ____…” Luffy croaked, eyes falling shut.

“Oh my God, he’s dead!” Usopp wailed.

“Nope,” Chopper reassured, checking Luffy’s pulse. “He’s just asleep again.”

“Again!?” Zoro and Sanji yelled, staring shocked at their sleeping friend.

Vivi slowly uncovered her head, looking at Luffy, “Maybe we should stop hitting him…?” she offered.

The two men huffed, stuffing their hands in their pockets.

“Perfect,” she sighed, doing her best to smile. She turned towards Chopper, who was doing his best to tend to Luffy’s injuries. “And what is your name?”

Chopper looked up, startled before stuttering, “C-Chopper, miss! I’m a medical student who is staying on the same floor as Luffy!”

“A medical student?” Nami asked, “but you’re…”

“I know, I know,” Chopper sheepishly grinned, “I was able to skip a couple grades when I was younger, so…”

“Wow, you must be smart,” you blurted, peeking from under the table.

“N-not really!” Chopper reassured, “I just know a lot of medical stuff! I had a teacher when I was younger…”

“Meat…” Luffy muttered, drooling in his sleep.

Zoro sighed, “Well, you heard the man, let’s get some grub.”

“He didn’t mean you, idiot,” Sanji argued.

“The hell?” Zoro barked, turning to face Sanji.

“Now now,” Usopp interjected, separating the two men and walking off with them, “I think there was wisdom in Luffy’s words…”

The three of you—not including a sleeping Luffy and attending Chopper—sat back down, saying nothing for a minute as you all processed the events that occurred.

“Well,” Vivi finally said, breaking the silence, “I’m grateful that our friends are quite energetic! Back in Alabasta, I would have been escorted to a bunker if this happened!”

“I’m glad you got something out of it, girl,” Nami groaned, eating a tangerine slice.

“I kinda get Vivi,” you replied, finishing off your slice of toast. “It’s an exciting change of pace compared to my life before.”

“Alright, I get it,” Nami mumbled, “maybe you two have a point…”

Suddenly, Luffy arose from his slumber, awaking with a cry.

“Meat!” he howled, rushing to the lunch line.

The four of you watched helplessly as Luffy ran over the entire line of students, piling his plate full of meat, so much so that there wasn’t room for anything else, much less more meat.

“Do you think every meal will be like this…?” Chopper whispered, horrified by the display of gluttony before him.

You stared at your table, seeing Vivi’s intrigue and Nami’s curiosity. Then you turned to watch Zoro and Sanji argue, a moment away from turning into a full on fist fight. Finally you looked at Luffy again, seeing the joy in his eyes as he not-so-carefully maneuvered his giant pile of food.

“I can’t say for sure,” you sighed, a smile gracing your face, “but I’m hoping they’ll be similar to this.”

“Look!” Luffy shouted, slamming his plate onto the table. “They let me have all of this! Isn’t this place great?”

“I doubt they let you, Luffy,” Sanji said, approaching the table with Zoro. “More like they were powerless to stop you.”

“Shishishi!” Luffy chuckled before diving into his mountain of meat.

Before long the dining hall’s aura returned to normal as students resumed eating, only glancing at your table occasionally.

‘Probably to make sure they’re at a safe distance,’ you thought, finishing your food.

But after a while the chatter once again died down, only a whisper being passed along tables as an odd air filled the hall.

“Well,” Nami huffed, “you five took so long that we’re all done with our food, so you better hurry!”

“Go get more, then,” Zoro retorted, earning him a bump on the head.

“That’s a good idea!” Luffy cheered, “let’s all go get more food after—”

A small black blur zipped across the dining hall, barely scraping by the top of Luffy’s head and bisecting his plate of meat. You all turned towards the source, shocked at the blatant murder attempt, with hundreds of witnesses no less. But Luffy was furious, standing up and turning towards the culprit.

“What’s the big idea!” he yelled, clenching his fists.

“Oh, come on now, Luf! That’s no way to greet somebody!” a voice called out, stepping through the crowd of students, wearing the most ostentatious outfit you’d seen during your time here and carrying a hockey stick, clearly his weapon of choice.

You watched as Luffy’s fists unclenched and his expression changed to one of brief confusion, quickly morphing to one of insurmountable joy.

“Ace!” he cried out, sprinting away from the table.

“Ace?” Chopper questioned.

“The hockey player?” Sanji gaped.

“The brother?” Vivi asked.

Ace grinned, tucking the hockey stick behind his shoulders.

“The one and only!”

tag list: @sylum , @dimplewonie

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luvsicksubs · 3 years

Text

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

sweethearts - bakugo katsuki

wc: 1.6k

cw: pegging / anal fingering, degradation, dacryphilia, sub!space, dom!reader (afab but i dont think there’s anything gendered?), using the word cunt for bakugo, pro-hero!bakugo, and a lot of super fluffy aftercare at the end.

“Y-you’re so — hic — so fuckin’ mean,”

Your laugh is warm - too warm for something like this. With Bakugos face pressed firmly into your shoulder, strong arms wrapped around your neck - your laughter feels cruel. It sounds sweet but Bakugo knows better than to fall for it - aware of the irony in his words as your hands grip the meat of his thighs. Your fingers are bruising as they hold onto the muscle, legs lifted and wrapped your back with his calves twitching and trembling.

You’re trying to hold in your amusement - refocusing your eyes on Bakugo in this state. Your favorite pro-hero’s expression, normally so stoic and cold now broken. Skin flushed red from the tips of his ears down to his chest - warmth running down his back in waves. He’s sobbing poor thing, nails scratching up your back without remorse.

In an effort to get him to show some submission, you pull out full-stop. Bakugo gasps at the emptiness, whimpering as your heavy eyes watch his hole tremble. So pretty and so desperate, the feeling of hot plastic is replaced with strong hands - angular and plunging. You lay him on his back and lean back yourself, your fingers teasing and prodding the sensitive ring of muscle. It’s sore, red and puckered from exhaustion - stretches all too easily around your thin fingers.

But it’s more precise this way, Bakugo realizes in half-terror and half-lust - eyes flickering down to your middle and and ring fingering scissoring him open. Not a tight fit by any means but Bakugo clamps down on you anyway. You laugh at him, can’t help yourself as your hand presses down on his belly.

“You’re so mouthy, aren’tcha brat?,” you tease, pressing a kiss to the calf at your face, resting your cheek on it as you position Bakugos hips up using a pillow. His cock weeps pathetically onto the muscle of his stomach, red and burning and aching. Everything in him feels warn out and he can’t do anything but sob - not a thought running through his mind other than missing having you inside.

“So damn disobedient but this always shuts you right the fuck up, doesn’t it baby?,” and the question is rhetorical - always is. Your fingers are angled directly at his prostate so perfectly, practically milking the orgasms out of his body with only one hand. Everything is too much.

“Too much - ‘s too much, fuck,”

He’s thrashing, arms desperately clawing into the sheets for life as you easily work another orgasm out of him like this. He’s lost count, doesn’t even care to know as he feels your other hand simply brush against his sore cock. He can’t breath, half choking out a sob as his body floods to weakly spurt out a thin stream of cum, if you could even call it that.

“See? Didn’t talk back even one time right there, did you?,” and your hands, cruel as ever - draw a line in the cum that coats his stomach and the sheets. He shivers, eyes welling up with tears of shame.

“This is the only way pretty boys like you know how to cum right?,” you ask, hand landing on his and leaving another familiar print in your wake. The pain jolts him awake, makes him drool.

“Like your body was made for me to fuck ‘n use like a little toy, right Katsuki? Pretty little hole you got is begging to get fucked all over again,”

“I don’ like it, swear I don’t, swear — fuck,”

You grin - so much spitfire in your sweet brat. You take pleasure in pulling your fingers out and thrusting them right back in, massaging his g-spot with intensity in your gaze. His eyes shoot open, frantically searching for your face in pure need before seeing your feral expression and swallowing.

“Liar. You love it when I use you. So pretty and perfect like this,”

You lean up, the weight of your body pressed against his - lubed plastic cock grinding hard against his own. He bites his lip hard enough for it to swell moments after, arms desperately coming around your body for support as he loses strength. Fuckfuckfuck.

“Tell me you love it - tell me how much you love when I ruin this pretty lil cunt baby,”

Bakugo swallows a heavy breath as his body tightens up. Your hands feel good but it’s not enough, he knows he needs more. His body trembles, throat hoarse as he sobs and sniffles into your chest. Bruises and hickies blooming all over his skin create a hazy buzz in his head as panicked eyes find yours - gasping as he desperately tries to find his voice. A hand wrapped around his throat has him shaking violently.

“I love it — hic — fuck.. fuck me already,” he chokes out the words between sobs, fat tears sliding down his face and onto the sheets as his hands lock around your shoulders - desperately searching for reprieve. His ass is grinding against the strap even more eagerly than before, cock almost limp and making a wet noise as it moves against his belly.

The tip of your cock presses right against his hole, and you grin. A hand around his throat, another pressed on his stomach - you lean low. Teeth catching his ear lobe, you whisper.

“Say please, Katsuki.”

“Fuck, please!,”

Like something had been triggered in you, you immediately pull-back and slam back in one fluid motion. Bakugo cries out - moans so brokenly in a silent scream as you set a violent pace. He uses his hands to hold his legs up, afraid of what’ll happen if he doesn’t as you jackhammer him into the bed. The mattress ricochets off your every movement - headboard banging loudly against the walls. But Bakugo’s voice is louder, lewd and desperately croaking about how fucking good it all feels. His cock stands to attention again - and the pleasure drowns out the blurry pains of overstimulation like a drug. You grit your teeth as the friction of the strap grinds against your clit.

Your hand pumps Bakugo’s cock furiously as you fuck him, and Bakugo has given up on doing anything but repeating your name like a prayer. His incantations send shivers up your spine as you grunt into his ear - your own orgasm mere seconds away.

“One more yeah? Give me one fuckin’ more - be a good little cumslut for me and give me one more baby,”

“Oh, god,”

Almost in tandem, you reach your orgasm only seconds after your boyfriend reaches his. You nearly choke at how hard you cum, lungs burning as pleasure curls through your body and you’re groaning into neck. Panting desperately, you lift your head-up to meet Bakugos with a soft smile

You kiss his jaw softly, smiling.

“You did so well baby,” you hum against his throat, brushing his hair back.

“Let’s get you fixed up,”

[ after-care ]

You would argue this is the best part. After fucking the daylights out of your bratty boyfriend - he’s half-way there as you kiss and massage his body. He’s pliant, dizzy - somewhat gaining his consciousness. He can only half-find it in himself to argue with you as you take care of him. He succumbs to your touch and silently plants himself in your lap or otherwise as you do. In the bath, he spent ample time having you hold him and scratch his scalp as you wash it.

When he wanted kisses, he simply looks up at you - vermilion eyes catching light as you laugh lightly and kiss whatevers closest. He only closes his eyes against when he’s satisfied with it. The warm water helps him feel steady, relaxing into the water.

You dry his hair off in the bathroom before transpiring back to your bedroom - where Bakugo curls up exhaustedly in the corner as you fix up the sheets and get him to lay down.

You talk idly as you rub lotion down his body - watching his eyes flutter close. Your hands go over all the marks, bruises, bites and scratches with soft kisses before paying special attention to them. For the first time since you’ve finished, you get a sentence out of him.

“You’re a demon,” he slurrs. You can’t help but break out into a laugh, you hands squeezing his pecks before bending down to kiss him. A glass of water by the bed-side prompts him to sit up and drink before leaning against the frame.

“Nice to see you, baby,” you joke. You grown serious just as fast, sitting between his legs with his face in your hands - observing him.

“How do you feel, angel?,”

His eyes flutter open - sleepy and full of vulnerable adoration. You’ve fucked the fight out of him, literally so he’s in no place to deny your affection. He yawns.

“‘s fine, stupid. ‘m okay. Are you?,”

Your heart flutters. Sometimes he reminds you in little ways like this that this goes both ways. You nod, hold one of his hands in yours.

“I’m fine. Worried I was too rough on you, or too mean,”

He scoffs, almost offended.

“Who’dya take me for,” comes his reply. You laugh, softly placing his forehead against his - shrugging.

“Right, right,” you hum, leaning forward to kiss him deep and slow. Everything is still, slow and perfect. He opens his eyes, overcome by his own emotions and hugs you tiredly.

“Love you, dumbass,” he chokes. You yawn as he clings to you, kissing the crown of his head.

“I love you too, Katsuki,”

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

#bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo x you #bnha x you #bakugo x y/n #bnha x y/n #sub!bakugo #bottom!bakugo #k; pegging #k; dacryphilia #k; degradation #idk what other tags im missing #after-care inclusive #will proof-read in the morning

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

Text

Summer of Whump #19: Fear

Warnings: death mention, pills, fever, injured, thermometer

Hero found Villain in a cellar, severely injured. His ribcage was close to crushed and blood was gushing out of mulitple wounds. He was only just conscious, but his breaths were ragged and strained.

"Villain," Hero said, even though she knew that he wouldn't be able to recognize her presence in his state.

She crouched next to him and ran her hand through his sweaty hair. Villain mumbled something that sounded like garbled nonsense than something of actual intellect.

"Shh," she soothed and wrapped Villain into her arms. Without a second thought, she whisked them away to her home using her teleporting powers.

Even as they were still in the tornado of color, Hero was already rushing to her first air kit to stop the blood flow. That nasty Supervillain...

When Hero returned, Villain was awake and pressed against the wall, breathing hysterically.

"Get away from me!" He yelled, defensively. Hero immediately put the first aid kit down and approached Villain with lowered hands.

"I will," she promised, only to say right after, "only if you let me clean you up."

"Never," Villain snapped and lunged forward. He tripped and nearly landed face first, but Hero caught him.

His body convulsed which made Hero's heart lurch in worry. But then he relaxed, melting into Hero's arms. She began to rock him back and forth while very slowly inching towards the first aid kit. Up close, she noticed that many of the wounds had shrapnel stuck in them. She sighed, this was going to hurt.

The first one would've came out easy if it weren't for the fact that Villain pulled out of the way rather quickly. Hero sighed again. Villain had super-strength and speed.

"S-stay away-way," He slurred, but maintained a steady posture.

"I can't do that, you need help," Hero tried to reason, but the villain wouldn't listen. He shook his head wildly.

"Don't, don't, don't," Villain mumbled and put his hands on his forehead, clutching it and swaying. Hero started forward, only to hesitate.

Without another word, Villain ran forward and pushed past Hero. He went over to the door, fumbled with the doorknob and then ran outside.

Hero, shocked, shook the daze out of her eyes. Villain hit her hard. But she wasn't worried about a little bump while Villain was bleeding out on the streets, so she followed him out the door.

She first assumed that he wouldn't be able to get too far, but she was wrong. A mixture of super-strength, speed, adrenaline and fear must've fueled him to get out of there. Hero groaned in annoyance as she teleported around, trying to latch onto Villain. Being able to teleport also granted her the ability to teleport by feeling anyone's emotions and thoughts of those emotions.

Only that wasn't easy when Villain was running around one hundred miles per hour.

Hero squeezed her eyes shut and traveled throughout the city, dipping her hand down into puddles of people's thoughts as she searched for pain and fear, likely the only thoughts running through his head.

Hero squeezed her eyes even harder and concentrated on as a wave of emotions entered her brain and fueled the powerful blood that coursed through her veins.

She could feel her eyes dart around in their sockets as she searched. Searched for two emotions that were tied together that would mean Villain.

Keep on moving, keep on... the thought trailed off, leaving Hero in the dust, but she knew that it was Villain.

Keep on going, gosh this hurts. Pain, pain, pain. Rest, just rest. Who cares if she finds me. I need her help. I am tired, done. Legs, just give up already- the thought was cut off by a loud ringing noise.

Hero's mind threatened to pull away from Villain's, but she held on. Villain had collapsed, she knew this. She also knew that she desperately needed to grasp onto that last straw of consciousness to teleport successfully.

Sleep... let go Villain, let go...

Hero grabbed onto that thought and teleported. She landed on top of a dumpster with a painful thud.

But her determination to find Villain covered the pain. She jumped up and searched frantically around until she spotted a lump next to a pile of cardboard.

"Villain!'" Hero exclaimed, not taking any precautions to make her appearance less threatening. She rushed over to Villain's side and without thought, checked for his pulse.

Her heart started to race when she didn't find it. Maybe she sucked at searching for one? She didn't know, so she reached downwards and put her cheek to Villain's nose.

Soft air blew against her sweaty cheek, cooling it. Hero almost let out a cry in relief until she remembered that Villain was currently bleeding out on her lap.

"Hold on bud," she whispered into Villain's ear. She didn't care that he was incapable of hearing, but it made her feel better about the situation.

The next morning, Villain regained consciousness with a scream, loud and agonizing. It shook Hero, who was drowsily reading a book by his side, to the core.

"Are you okay?" Hero asked, yawning. Villain's pale, ghost-like face was clammy and covered in a thick layer of sweat. Hero looked away, slightly embarrassed to see him look like this. Weak and helpless, completely at the mercy of Hero. Not that she would hurt him. No, she would never to that. She always looked up to him with admiring eyes, as hard as it was to admit it. Seeing him like this was like witnessing your parents cry. It was unnatural and something that she hated.

Villain squinted his eyes and furrowed his forehead. Only that effort seemed to waste too much energy because he relaxed his face and sagged into the pillow again and shivered.

Hero fought the urge to use her hand to check his temperature. It would be a kind gesture- maybe even soothing and would make him feel safe- but Hero knew that Villain would take it the wrong way. She could just imagine extending her hand to him and him freaking out and hurting himself-

A soft whimper drew Hero out of her thoughts. She glanced down at the villain with pity. His eyes seemed to get more and more unfocused as the seconds ticked by. Hero put her hand half-way out. It wouldn't hurt would it?

She place her hand on his burning forehead.

Villain's eyes widened and focused as he tried to pull away, rubbing the cuts on his back. Hero had to face the choice of laying him on his stomach, which would aggravate his ribs, or lay him on his back, which could rip the stitches that Hero spent hours on. He was too weak to lie on his side. She ended up choosing the back for breathing purposes.

But now she really regretted that decision as she heard stitches tear and Villain cry out. Blood started dripping again and all Hero could do was grab Villain's flailing wrists and hold them tightly.

"Stop this," she pleaded with her delirious patient. His gaze flickered to her and watched her movements with suspicion. Hero deftly pushed his arms to his sides and clicked them into the handcuffs. This wasn't the first time that she had cared for an injured person.

Her mind briefly flickered to Sidekick's last week alive. How she struggled and struggled to live, but the deep abdomen wound that... Hero glanced down at the writhing Villain. That Supervillain caused, just like what he did to Villain.

Maybe it would be better to let him suffer. Hero contemplated the idea, weighing the pros and cons (cons being much more) about letting Villain live. Less civilian deaths, less destruction, avenge Sidekick with a fellow villain's death...

But Hero couldn't let someone in pain suffer as they die. She knew how traumatizing it would be for him if he linked Hero's face to this excruciating pain if he indeed lived.

Hero left the scene momentarily to grab a thermometer and tylenol to kick the fever. Her hand lingered over a painkiller too before grabbing that bottle as well.

Villain's eyes were half-lidded by the time Hero returned, but his mouth was clamped shut. She gently opened his lip with the thermometer, but wasn't as successful with slipping it through his clenched teeth.

She sighed and grabbed his jaw, pressing her fingers into his cheek to pry his mouth open. He obeyed, and Hero placed the thermometer under his tongue. Villain's eyes widened at the sudden discomfort, before drooping again. He weakly swallowed the saliva that built up. Hero gingerly rubbed his throat.

The thermometer beeped: 103.9, almost 104. Hero gulped, she needed to lower this fever as soon as possible before it got out of hand. She gently placed the tylenol on Villain's slightly sticking out tongue and dumped some water down his mouth. Villain sputtered and coughed, unable to swallow. His eyes widened in panic and he started writhing around again, pulling against the restraints.

Hero dipped his head back and rubbed his throat.

"Swallow. You can do this," she murmured softly. She wanted to give him the pain meds too, but seeing his inability to do a simple task like swallow, she would have to revert to other means of pain control.

Villain ended up swallowing. His body instantly relaxed as his eyes finished closing. Hero grabbed onto his hand and rubbed in slow, circular motions until his breathing slowed. She smiled, at least alseep he wouldn't hurt.

#summer of whump #protective hero #villain whumpee #fear #tired villain #super powers #hero caretaker #hero x villain #injured #feverish whumpee #day 19 #writing #death mention

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slippinmickeys · 3 years

Text

Five Seconds (5/8)

If you’d like to read on AO3, you may do so here.

October 15, 2018

The leaves were beginning to change outside the window; the maples turning russet, the birch yellow. Scully felt pendulous and gravid, the child in her belly more active than her previous two combined. Sleep was becoming difficult, but by day they’d fallen into a comfortable routine, safe and unmolested from the dangers that were beginning to feel as though they had never existed at all.

She stretched and left Mulder, half his face obscured by his pillow, his lips soft and pliant in sleep. A fresh pot of decaf awaited her in the kitchen, its automatic timer set by Mulder late last night.

The kids were still asleep, as far as she could tell -- she'd heard Lily come home well after midnight. She'd been up reading anyway when her daughter had popped her head into their bedroom door and whispered "I'm home." The girl had been wearing a small smile and Scully recognized the look. Lily was falling in love.

Will shuffled into the kitchen sleepily, a palm rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He approached Scully where she stood at the counter and put an arm around her shoulder, leaning on her. He still smelled like the sleepy little boy who liked to cuddle into her side to watch nature shows when he was six.

"Morning Mom," he said, taking a snuffly breath. He leaned down and rested his cheek against her head (he was almost as tall as Mulder, though still as skinny as a maypole). Scully wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled him in closer. Affection from her kids was getting fewer and farther between now that they were active teenagers. She was determined to enjoy whatever she got.

"Morning," she said, giving his back a little rub, "you're up early."

"Yeah," he said on a yawn. "There's an open rink this morning and a couple of buddies are going. Is it okay if I join them?"

Scully nodded. "Just make sure you tell your dad, too. Know the exits before you go and keep an eye on the crowd."

Will squeezed her once and then let go, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter and holding up like James Bond. "Call me Double O Billy," he said and sidled back to his room off of Scully's bemused chuckle.

She spent an hour catching up on email that had been routed through the Gunmen and Darlene -- coded messages that they interpreted and sent to her mother, sister and brothers. Melissa was giving her a hard time about not letting her fly to Europe (where she thought they were) to be her doula when the time came to give birth. She was tempted to send Byers to her sister's house to explain exactly what was happening, but rejected the impulse. Their mother -- the only person other than the Gunmen and the X-Files triumvirate at the FBI who knew their situation (though not their location for her own protection) -- would talk her down eventually.

Mulder came padding up behind her as she closed the laptop and she felt a soft, drawn-out kiss on the side of her neck.

"Morning," he mumbled into her skin.

She reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair, then turned to receive his kiss.

"Morning," she said.

"I’ll be back shortly. I'm going to drop Billy off at the ice complex and then take Lil to campus -- she suddenly started liking football."

"I think it's the company rather than the sport," Scully said, turning in her chair to face him.

"...I'm going to choose to believe my version," he said.

Scully reached out and linked their fingers briefly. "Tell her to be careful," she said, "she's spending a lot of time out of the house."

Mulder nodded and squeezed her fingers. "I will," he said, "and when I get back, I have a few ideas for how we can spend our child-free afternoon." He waggled his eyebrows at her and let go, backing out of the room like the charmer he was.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“So why UVA?” Travis asked her. He had his head propped up on an elbow and his other hand was wrapped loosely around her foot, his thumb rubbing circles into her arch. She was on the couch in his dorm room and he was on the floor -- she’d been helping him study for mid-terms. They had been officially dating for five weeks and had seen each other at least every other day in that time. He’d introduced her to a couple of friends as his girlfriend.

“What?” she asked. It was hard enough to concentrate while getting a foot massage, and she’d been staring at the index cards in front of her, trying to find a question that would stump him.

“Why are you going to UVA? Brain like yours, you could have gone anywhere. I don’t think I’ve ever asked you why there.”

“Other than the in-state tuition?” She had told him that they’d moved from Virginia, but hadn’t elaborated.

“Other than that,” he smiled.

“I’ve always wanted to. When I was a kid, my dad would occasionally get called in to consult there and he would take me with him. I kinda fell in love with it.”

“What did your dad consult on?” he asked, “You don’t talk about your parents much.”

Travis tapped her other leg, and she switched feet, silencing a groan when his knuckle hit a particularly sensitive spot.

She had purposely avoided mentioning her family much and debated how much was safe to share.

“UVA has a Department of Perceptual Studies,” she said, and she saw him tilt his head in question.

“A department of what?”

“Perceptual studies,” she said, smiling, “it’s a research group devoted to the investigation of phenomena that challenge mainstream scientific paradigms regarding the nature of the mind/brain relationship.” Travis stopped rubbing her foot and looked at her. She went on, further quoting her dad’s friend Dr. Stevenson: “Their mission is the scientific empirical investigation of phenomena that suggest that currently accepted scientific assumptions and theories about the nature of mind or consciousness, and its relation to matter, may be incomplete.”

“You’re shitting me,” he said.

“I shit you not.”

“What kind of phenomena?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

She tried not to smile, “ESP, poltergeists, near-death experiences, out-of-body experiences, claimed memories of past lives.”

“And what did they want with your father?” he asked, sitting up.

She shrugged. “He’s a shrink,” she said, being deliberately vague.

“This is an accredited university?” He teased her. She kicked at him, and he ducked out of the way and laughed, then looked at her thoughtfully. “You know, I myself had an out-of-body experience with Trudy Carmichael under the bleachers when I was sixteen. Pretty sure I saw through time.”

Lily chuckled, then playfully challenged: “Do I need to worry about this Trudy Carmichael?”

“I doubt it,” he said, hanging his head, “I lost my virginity, and she lost my number. Not my finest hour.”

“A whole hour?,” Lily said wryly.

“One way to find out.”

He looked at her then and she looked back. The moment was charged and sat in between them. The truth was, Lily was still a virgin. She and Travis had messed around, but fairly innocently, and she’d demurred on action below the waist/under the clothes. “I’m not waiting for marriage,” she’d told him a few weeks back, but she did want to wait for love. If only she knew what that felt like.

“Hey, Frisbee,” Travis said when she didn’t say anything, “please don’t take this as a negotiation tactic -- you’ve been clear on your limits and I totally respect that -- and with the full understanding that you don’t need a reason, and you do you and all that -- but… do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what exactly?” she asked, clarifying.

“When I say ‘no pressure,’ I mean it,” he said, reaching out to squeeze her foot.

Lily looked around his sloppy dorm room. There were clothes strewn about, though mostly out of the way— socks balled up near the laundry hamper, a sweatshirt hanging on the back of a chair. The wooden loft that held his bed was posted around the couch, made of flimsy-looking two-by-fours, and did not look like it could hold his weight, much less hers in addition, and remained untried (though Travis swore it had passed inspection). His desk was more fastidiously kept, a reflection of his mind, a structured order in the midst of chaos. He was kind and smart. His smile could make her insides go liquid.

“Honestly?” she finally said, “it’s my parents.”

“Super religious?” he asked.

She had to stop herself from laughing. “No, it’s… My parents love each other. More than anyone I’ve ever known. Their love is like… romance film love. It’s practically written in the stars.”

He looked at her contemplatively. “That’s a lot to live up to,” he said. “Is that what it is?”

“Yes,” she said, then, “no.” It was and it wasn’t. She didn’t know if there was a love out there that could compare, she suspected there wasn’t. Her real hang-up, and she hadn’t been able to get it out of her head since she found her father’s first wedding picture in their attic -- was that her father had obviously made a mistake. What if she did too?

She laughed, annoyed at herself. This wasn’t Regency England. Sex didn’t mean marriage. It didn’t even necessarily mean love. Still...

“Come on,” she said, sitting up and grabbing for his class notes, “this bio exam isn’t going to take itself.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

A sound woke her. Her hips were in agony and sleeping was difficult, so initially she was more annoyed than anything; she could rarely line up more than 90 minutes straight of deep slumber. And then she heard it again.

She reached over, squeezed Mulder's bicep until she heard him sniff sharply awake and silently, pulled out the sidearm she kept inside her bedside table. Mulder, slipping out of bed without a word, pulled out his own gun and went to the door. He held up a hand, trying to tell Scully to stay back, but she shook her head angrily -- she would have his back whether he liked it or not.

When he moved into the hallway, she stepped on the back of his heel and he ended up ramming his shoulder into the doorframe. He swore low under his breath. They were out of sync.

She watched as he put his head into the kids rooms as he made his way down the hallway, nodding at her that they were both accounted for. One more thunk from the living room.

He sidled up to the wall that led to the room and backed up against it. He mouthed one-two-three and they went in, but where she usually went low and he went high, this time they rammed shoulders and stumbled into the room. Mulder flicked on the light when she finally had her weapon aimed true.

There, sitting on a high bookshelf sat Apgar, her black tail swishing merrily. Maintaining eye contact, she swiped one more of the professor's knick-knacks off the shelf and onto the floor.

Mulder dropped his weapon and heaved a sigh, tipping his head back in frustration. "Fucking cat," he hissed.

Mission completed, Apgar jumped down with a thump and weaved a figure eight between Mulder's legs.

"She must be hungry," Scully said.

"Hangry was invented by cats," Mulder mumbled, reaching down to pet the cat with his free hand.

"Our tactical coordination was atrocious," Scully said, flicking the light back off and holding her gun at her hip.

"Yes," Mulder agreed.

"When was the last time you went to the range?" she asked.

"It's been months," he said tiredly.

"We're going tomorrow," Scully said. Mulder knew better than to argue.

XxX

There were more than a few Molon Labe bumper stickers in the parking lot. Scully had to remind herself that they were in Michigan Militia territory. "Michitucky," she'd heard it called by a few guys at the Bureau. Nevertheless, she pulled up to the firing range with fire in her blood. She might not share their politics, but she would share their space, and show most of them up to boot.

They signed in and bought ammunition. She got a few extra looks for being a visibly pregnant woman, but most of the men (and they were all men) who were at the range gave her begrudging looks of approval. Mulder stood, standing straighter and closer than normal, practically growling at anyone who got too close. She had to admit that his fierce protective nature was more than a turn-on.

The range was outdoors -- different than what they were used to at Quantico. And where there were metal tables and dividers and state of the art equipment at the government facility, here it was all beat-to-shit plywood tables and sunburnt grass littered with shell casings and old ear plugs. They took the lane at the end.

They both loaded and checked their weapons, snugged earmuffs over their heads.

"You want to go first?" Mulder asked, double checking the safety on his pistol and setting it on the table behind their station.

"I can do that," Scully said, looking down at her Sig.

"Care for a little wager?" her husband asked.

"You can't afford me, Dr. Mulder," she said, admiring the still-lanky line of his physique.

He raised his eyebrows, and leaned back against the tall wobbly table. "Oh-ho," he said, "I suppose that depends on the currency." He had a smug look about him that she wanted to wipe off his face. She was a better marksman and more competitive than anyone gave her credit for.

"What are you offering?" she asked.

"Dishes?" he offered, "Laundry?"

"We had children for the menial labor," she challenged, "I can win this with one hand tied behind my back. Make it interesting for me."

He licked his lips. She had him.

"I liked the part about 'hands behind the back,'" he said, "Winner decides who wears the handcuffs."

"You're not exactly incentivizing this, Mulder."

He had a flushed look about him; his nostrils flared.

"Prove it," he said, and she felt a flush. Second trimester hormones could be a beautiful thing, she mused.

It took her several rounds before she got back into the groove. It actually had been too long since she'd practiced and she was rusty. Considering their current situation, she ought not to let it happen again. Her last few rounds were dead center. Once her clip was empty, she cleared her weapon and stepped back.

Mulder's turn.

He wasn't quite as out of practice as she was initially, which irritated her to no end. However, his fourth and fifth shots were a bit wide, and he ended around the edges.

When he was clear, she stepped back up and took a bracing breath. She raised her weapon and fired rapidly; all her shots were center mass except the last two, which she swung up and finished with perfect shots to the head of the paper dummy.

When Mulder stepped forward for his turn, she nudged him.

"How big would you say the back of the Yukon is?'" she asked casually.

His first three shots went wide.

XxXxXxXxXxX

October 17, 2018

“Mom?” Lily asked. There was a hesitancy in her voice that made Scully look up from where she was chopping vegetables for dinner. “How did you know you loved Dad?”

Scully set the knife down and turned toward her daughter. “That’s a big question, Lil.”

“What’s a big question?” Mulder came breezing into the kitchen, shooting Scully an intrigued look.

Scully suspected something was up, but didn’t want to embarrass their daughter. Lily had always had an inquisitive streak and would occasionally come to Scully with problems or questions, but she was apt to clam up when pressed.

“Lily was asking me about how I fell in love with you,” Scully said, trying to catch Mulder’s eye.

“It was the day she met me, no doubt,” Mulder said. He grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the counter and shined it on his sleeve before taking a snappy bite. “I’m catnip to the ladies,” he said around the mouthful. Lily smiled. Scully rolled her eyes.

“Suddenly, I’m struggling to remember,” Scully said with mock derision. Mulder gave her a cheeky grin.

“Did you know right away?” Lily asked.

Scully paused. “Not… Not right away,” she said thoughtfully.

Lily looked back and forth between her parents. “I guess it was a long time ago, huh.”

“Love in a time of sarsaparilla,” Mulder said dreamily. Scully shook her head and he caught her eye. “It wasn’t that long ago, Lil,“ he went on, and Scully felt the low bloom of feeling that always accompanied a look from her husband. For as long as she lived, she would always remember the first time she felt it; on the Tooms case, when he’d hooked his finger in her necklace and pulled.

“No, what I mean is… it was complicated,” Scully clarified.

Lily nodded and turned to her father. “You were married. Before Mom.”

“Yes,” Mulder said.

“Did you love her? Your ex wife?”

“I thought I did.”

“When did you figure out that you didn’t?” Lily asked.

“When I met your Mom,” Mulder said.

“So what you felt with Mom…”

“... was so much bigger than I was, that I couldn’t contain it.”

Scully felt her eyes well up. Mulder still sometimes had the ability to make her feel things all the way down to her toes.

Lily smiled, but looked pensive.

"But you thought you loved this other woman? I mean, enough to marry her?" she asked.

Mulder narrowed his eyes at his daughter. "What are you asking, Lil?"

Lily shook her head, her cheeks pink. She grabbed a soda from the fridge and walked out of the room.

“Oh boy,” said Scully.

“What?” Mulder asked.

“Travis,” said Scully. “She’s trying to figure it all out.”

“Jesus, he didn’t propose, did he?” Mulder asked. The look on his face was enough to make her laugh, but she held it in.

Scully turned fully to Mulder and leaned back against the countertop, crossing her arms in front of her.

“You want to know what I think?” she asked. Mulder nodded. “She’s trying to decide whether or when to...” She made a vague gesture with her hands.

Mulder looked at her, still not understanding. Scully gave him the stare of the dotard husband.

“Mulder…” she said, glaring hard.

Realization dawned and Mulder swallowed. “I should have had that boy killed,” he said.

Scully turned back to the vegetables she’d been chopping. “Let’s refrain from wetwork while we’re on the lam.”

“I make no promises,” he said, and slid up behind her, stepping in close and putting his hands on her waist.

“I had the guys check him out by way of Darlene,” Scully said. “He is who he says he is. And he seems like a decent kid. Let’s let her navigate this on her own, huh?” She felt his fingers squeeze and then they drifted down to rest on her hips.

“I don’t like it,” he mumbled, and leaned down to rest his chin on her shoulder.

“You’re not supposed to,” she said. “But you do have to accept it, and trust that we raised her to make these decisions for herself.” She remembered being nineteen and in college and in love for the first time. “You want to hear about Kevin McAvoy, my freshman year boyfriend?”

Mulder squeezed his fingers again and then started to turn her slowly toward him. She set down the knife on the counter and let him. His head was bent toward her and she felt his breath fan her face.

“No,” he said, leaning even more into her personal space.

“I was his Little Red Corvette,” she said playfully, tipping her head back in challenge. He smiled, but she saw something rough pass through his eyes. “He’d put on Prince and --”

Mulder leaned down and silenced her with a kiss.

XxXxXxXxXxX

In her room, Lily sat on the bed, the can of soda from the fridge sitting unopened on her bedside table. Condensation beaded on the side of it, sliding down silently to pool at the base, unnoticed.

Crusher liked to sleep on her pillow, and had left a black felted indent in the feathers, which Lily brushed away and fluffed. She looked about the room. Not much about it spoke of the young woman who slept there and had for months; no posters on the walls, no pennants hanging or pictures of friends. It was a sterile guest room decorated with the mute tones of an unmarried 60-something and lately it had been making her feel like she wasn't even herself.

She stood and walked to the desk, the one place she deposited her things. Her wallet, the phone Darlene had given her that she rarely used and usually kept switched off. Her purse was half hanging off -- likely knocked into such a position by a passing cat -- and when she righted it, she noticed the picture that sat under it. The photo of her father and an unfamiliar brunette, who's face conveyed confidence -- almost a smugness -- and a certain charm.

She stared at the picture. And she wondered.

XxX

October 20, 2018

Lily glanced over her shoulder when she sat, feeling as though she were doing something illegal, something fraught.

No one really used the computer labs anymore -- if you needed to, you could write an entire paper on your phone, though Lily found the practice ridiculous and immature. Nevertheless, there were one or two students sitting at the various desktops around the small library lab, and she checked to make sure no one was paying attention to what she was doing.

She tried to be careful. She had told Travis that she was hoping to log into the university's network to prep for some of the classes she’d be taking at UVA next semester and so she was using his password and login information. She'd checked to make sure there were no cameras on the area where she sat, and that her back was to the one aimed at the larger area.

With a bracing breath, she logged on.

It was surprising what you could find with a simple Google search, and the commonwealth of Virginia's vital records office would send you a copy of any marriage certificate for a fee of $45. Knowing better than to use a credit card, she'd opted for a more in depth search, and found what she was looking for in the Daily Press -- the local newspaper of record in Newport News, Virginia.

It was a wedding announcement, complete with two pictures -- one, the same picture she'd found in her parent's attic and the other of a similar style -- of Fox William Mulder and Lauren Edith Williams, married on August 17th, 1988. According to the article, Lauren had been a recent graduate of Georgetown University and had been employed at Schuster and McClure, a PR firm in the District of Columbia.

Lily looked at the new photograph on the screen before her. Her father looked so young. Only a few years older than herself. Lauren was pretty, had perfect posture, and was staring into the camera like a dare; her dress was all frills and white froth, the material of the dress ruched in large poofs at the shoulders, a crown of satin flowers around the lush brunette curls on her head. She looked like someone Lily wouldn't have dared talk to back in high school. She looked nothing like Lily's mother.

Lauren Edith Williams, she wrote down, and stared at the paper in front of her.

XxXxXxXxXxX

October 21, 2018

Lily was on the bus when she noticed him. It was his age that first drew her attention. Most everyone that rode this route (it went right into campus) was either a student or a professor, and something about him seemed the antithesis of scholarly. He had a sharp face, was dressed in loose clothing, a plain, black ball cap pulled low over his head. His knee bounced where he sat. She thought she could make out a tattoo curling onto the skin under the sleeve of his jacket. He could have been custodial staff for all she knew, but her parents had raised her to trust her instincts, and something inside of her pinged.

He hadn’t so much as looked in her direction, but she reached up and pulled the cord that requested a stop anyway, keeping him in her periphery when the bus rolled to the next stop. She was five blocks further away than she would have liked -- she was supposed to meet Travis just off campus for lunch. The man didn't move or rise from his seat. Nevertheless, she ducked out of the back door and onto the sidewalk, shouldering her purse and pretending to look at her phone. Only when the bus left with the man still on it would she exhale. The bus had just started to roll forward when it chirped to a stop and the front doors opened. The man in the cap trotted down the steps and onto the sidewalk, glancing briefly at her before turning and walking slowly west. Adrenaline awash in her bloodstream, she turned east.

The man had had a nondescript face. He was of average height and build, not someone you'd notice. She wracked her brain trying to remember when or if she'd seen him before, and had a hazy recollection of someone who might have been him: waiting outside of Travis's dorm when she'd come to visit him a couple days prior, or maybe even standing behind her in line at a coffee shop the day before. She should have been paying closer attention. Her parents had taught her to pay closer attention. Up until she'd done a search on her father and his ex-wife, she had. Lily silently cursed at herself.

She looked at her reflection in the shop windows along Grand River Avenue, trying to catch a glimpse behind her. She caught movement, but there were plenty of other people walking up and down the sidewalk. She needed a better look.

She swung up the stairs of the Student Union when she came to it a moment later, remembering walking in with her brother and dad only the month before, and felt the sharp pang of guilt.

When she reached the top of the staircase, she stopped to retie her shoe, glancing back behind her as she did so. The man in the cap was there, and had paused a ways away, looking down at his phone. Lily finished fiddling with her shoe and casually walked to the door, holding it open for a girl who was coming out, her heart hammering in her chest as she did so. Through the large doorway was a wide set of stairs going both up and down. When the door closed behind her, she bolted down the stairs to her right. There were a number of study spaces and she could pass through each one fairly quickly -- the day was busy and there were students everywhere; if she was lucky she could get lost in the crowd.

She ducked through the main lounge and past the small coffee shop on the lower level, looking behind her. She saw nothing, but that didn't mean he still wasn't coming. Seeing the full racks of clothing in the Spirit Shop across the hallway, she went inside, bending down to pretend to look at a few items on the bottom shelf.

Peering through underneath the hanging shirts, she watched as the man in the black cap came down the hallway outside of the shop and paused, turning toward it. Her heart leapt to her throat. He did a slow turn and then turned to keep walking. She kept her head down.

From the corner of her eye she caught her own reflection in the mirror outside the tiny dressing room -- she was wearing a bright blue shirt and her hair -- as bright and reflective as a stop sign, and always a part of herself she was fond of -- would give her away.

She stood, scanning the hallway outside the shop, and then she hastily pulled a green knit cap off a nearby shelf and pulled the tag off, shoving it over her head and tucking her hair up under it as quickly as she could. She grabbed a large tee shirt off the rack nearest her and took it plus the hat's tag to the counter, pulling some cash that her parents always had her carry out and plunking it on the counter.

"I don't need a receipt, thanks," she told the young woman helping her, and turned away.

"But what about your change?" the girl called after her.

"Tip jar," she said, turning back and keeping her voice low.

Once outside the store, she pulled the tee shirt over her head and made her way for the lower level exit that emptied onto campus. Seeing no one behind her, she took the steps out as fast as they would carry her and ran.

XxX

Darlene narrowed her eyes at Lily, and opened the door. “Quickly,” she said.

“Thanks,” Lily said, as Darlene let her into the house, peering around the block. “I didn’t want to use the phone.”

“I get it,” Darlene replied as she ushered Lily into her kitchen, where Lily sank onto one of the stools that sat before the peninsula of the counter.

"You want a lemonade or something, kiddo?" Darlene asked, leaning forward against the counter herself and giving Lily an expectant look -- there was more to it than just polite hospitality.

"No, thanks," Lily said, feeling the weight of Darlene's gaze and her own guilt in equal measure.

"Did you do something stupid?" Darlene asked outright and Lily, taken aback, sat up straighter, but didn't answer, thus confirming Darlene's clear suspicion. "How bad?"

"I think they found us."

Darlene huffed a breath. "Elaborate," she said.

"I... I ran a search. A couple days ago, in the university library. I was careful, but maybe not careful enough."

"What did you search?"

"My dad's ex-wife."

Darlene gave a low whistle. "Kiddo," she said, a statement.

"I know."

"Have you considered just asking him about her?"

Lily hugged herself.

"I have. I did. But… I wanted to know. For me. I don't want his version of this woman. I wanted to see for myself who she was. Is."

Darlene moved to the window and peered out, lowering the blinds as she did so. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Lily once again felt a pang of guilt. She looked down. "Not really."

Darlene moved around the counter to a sideboard table on the dining room side of the counter and began shuffling through a drawer.

"What makes you think they found you?" she asked.

"I think there's someone following me," Lily said, "I think maybe I’ve seen him a couple of times on campus, but I don’t know. I lost him and came here."

"Just one someone?"

Lily began to second guess herself.

"I think so?"

When Darlene straightened from the sideboard she was holding a pistol.

"Call your father right now, and tell him to get over here. Armed." Darlene's words were cold and calm. Lily's stomach dropped in her gut.

She reached for Darlene's phone, a relic from another time which hung on the wall, its cord coiled like a snake.

Darlene walked to the sliding glass door as she dialed the numbers, each tone sounding long and drawn out, Darlene pulled the long curtains closed with a snap.

"Dad?" Lily said, when Mulder answered.

"Hey Lil!" he sounded so relaxed, excited just to talk to her though he'd seen her that morning.

"Dad, I'm at Darlene's. She says to get over here. She said to bring your gun."

She heard his sharp inhale. “I’m coming,” he said, and then she heard a dial tone.

"Lily," said Darlene, walking over to her computer, which was booted up and sitting on her dining room table, cords snaking out of it and across the floor. She quickly typed hunt-and-peck with her right hand, the gun still clutched in her left. "I want you to go into the top right drawer in my dresser. In a small lockbox, code 9-10-9-3, you'll find an old Nokia phone. It should be fully charged. It’s untraceable. Do not turn it on. Take it. Put it somewhere safe -- your bra or your sock or underwear. Then get under my bed."

Lily walked to the hallway, her body on autopilot, her heart hammering and her blood roaring in her veins.

Darlene finished typing, clicked a few things with her mouse and then peeked an eye out the closed curtain toward the backyard, tapping the gun against the side of her thigh.

Pausing in the hallway, Lily turned back to Darlene.

"Is someone coming?" Lily asked.

"Kid," Darlene said, shooting her a look, "they're already here."

#MSR #AU #Sequel #Of the Eight Winds #shits getting real for the mulder family #fanfic #XF #my fic

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a-singleboat · 4 years

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I Need A Hero

Word Count: 4.5k

Request: i am formally requesting an emily fic 😌 i dont want to be needy but em being lowkey but then super protective of you 🥵 angst with a happy ending would be amazing - anon

A/N: Let me know what you think! This is my first emily x reader so :D

Content Warnings: Blood, Reader getting hurt, Reader getting assaulted, kidnapping, swearing, alcohol, drugs

You should have listened to Emily. You really should have listened to her.

Emily was always just a tad bit overprotective of you, sometimes going as far as to asking you to wear a GPS device to clubs especially if she wasn’t going with you. You understood, of course. With her past and her current job, she had to make sure all her bases were covered. You were just one of them.

Though you rarely agreed to the GPS deceive, it was still flattering that she thought of you as important enough to keep track of. Usually, you’d just stick to texting her to let her know where you were. That was good enough for her.

But when she told you to stay home today, you thought that was her just being overly cautious, overly protective, as usual. You should have known better.

Turns out a serial killer with an affinity for women visibly similar to yourself was on the loose, details kept from the public due to the fact that the man was a flight risk. That being, it was painfully obvious why the “unsub,” to use Emily’s terminology, was a flight risk.

He flinched at every sound. At first, you tried to call out for someone--anyone. Well, that gained you a bloody gash on the side of your head. You didn’t make that mistake twice. Instead, you tried to remain calm and complacent--two things that Emily once said would ensure that you’d survive in a situation like this.

“Annie,” the man, Stephen, crooned. He picked up a doll from the table of toys and brought it over to you. From what you could tell, the doll was dirty and half-rotted away, as if it had been buried for a good while. He pressed it up to your face, the side coated in blood, and cooed at you. “Annie, I have Mrs. Buttercup here. Don’t cry, she’ll make it all better.”

You tried not to wince away as he rubbed the doll against your face. If Stephen wasn’t going to kill you, infection just might.

“Th-thank you, Mrs. Buttercup,” you whimpered, hands grasping the end of the armrests. The chair rocked backward as he put pressure on the doll, forcing you backward. You panicked as your feet left the ground, struggling to at least get a toe back on the solid concrete.

God, you should have listened to Emily. If you were going to die, you’d spend the rest of your immortal life regretting the choice you made to leave the house today.

Stephen looked into your eyes, searching for something. You knew all he’d find was fear so you tried your best to wrestle down your emotions. You held back the tears threatening to spill, holding your breath as he leaned in closer.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he pressed a kiss to your cheek, the one not wet with your blood. You grimaced at the feeling of his chapped lips against your skin. “I-I didn’t mean to earlier, Annie. You were just being so loud and… you understand, right?”

You nodded, lip quivering as he brought the doll to your chin, tilting your head upward. He forced you to look at him, smearing blood along your jawline as he did.

After a few moments of deliberation, he let you go, the rocking chair swaying back and forth until it settled back into a resting position. “You must be hungry,” he decided, dropping Mrs. Buttercup back into the piles of toys. “I’ll go make you your favorite.”

He flinched as a loud sound came from outside--a car alarm going off. The sound made you relax, however. The sound of a car alarm meant you weren’t in an abandoned factory somewhere. You were most likely in this guy’s basement, or something similar.

Stephen gripped the sides of his head as the alarm continued, only letting go when the alarm finally shut off. He collected himself, fists clenching before relaxing at his sides. His smile returned though you can only really see his teeth in the low light.

“I’ll be back, Annie,” he said, waving at you. “Don’t move.”

The last two words were more threatening than anything he’d actually done, true menace seeping into his voice like a poison. You waited for him to disappear around the corner before allowing yourself to cry, a few tears rolling down your cheeks and mixing with the blood.

You gasped for air, struggling to keep your breathing steady. It wouldn’t do you any good to hyperventilate now. You looked around for something--anything--that could possibly be used to alert someone that you were down here.

God, how long had it been? You lost count after the first thirty minutes. There were no windows so you couldn’t even tell if it was still day. Emily was probably freaking out by now. No doubt she had somehow gotten the entire United States Military involved by now, your safety being the only thing on her mind.

Another ten or so minutes passed without Stephen. You wondered how the other victims had died. Blood loss seemed to be the only thing on your mind, unsure if your head wound had clotted yet. All you could feel was the wet of your own bodily fluid on the side of your face, which didn’t help much. Everything else just seemed numb.

Your head lolled to the side as you heard footsteps approach, unable to lift your head as flashlights combed the ground. You barely reacted as the door got kicked in, eyelids closing as two blurry figures approached you. One of the figures shouted something behind them while the other came to you, patting your face lightly in an attempt to get you to stay awake.

Unable to remain conscious, you allowed sleep to claim you as the person above you shouted more words, all unintelligible as your consciousness faded from reality.

_____

Emily never did like hospitals.

Ever since her “death,” she tried to avoid them as much as possible but now, for you, she would make an exception. She waited in the waiting room alongside her teammates. None of them knew you personally, but they all knew about you. From the stories Emily would tell to the snippets of various phone conversations they accidentally overheard, they could tell that you were something good for their Unit Chief.

She propped her elbows up on her legs, holding her head up as she struggled to stay away. You hadn’t needed surgery but had lost a lot of blood as well as suffered major trauma. The doctors weren’t allowing anyone in as they observed you for any possible signs of infection as well as any withdrawal symptoms from the drugs the unsub had used to knock you out. It was all very dramatic, the extent of your actual injuries being minimal compared to what could have happened.

“Stop worrying.” Morgan reached over, putting a hand on her knee. She hadn’t even realized she’d been bouncing it up and down, too worried about how you were doing. It had been a few hours at that point, nurses going in and out of your room but none of them saying anything about your state of being.

“She’s fine. You know this. Everything they’re doing is just precautionary,” Morgan continued. He patted her knee twice, lifting his hand to point at a white-coated doctor exiting your room. “Look, the doctor’s here now. He’ll tell you that everything’s okay.”

“Y/n Y/l/n?”

Emily stood, smoothing out her blazer. “That’s me. I’m Emily Prentiss, her fiancée.”

A little white lie wouldn’t hurt, especially not when it would get her the answers she needed.

“Well, Ms. Prentiss, Y/n is expected to make a full recovery. The trauma to her head won’t have any lasting effects. She has some bruising on her side, we think from being dropped. We want to keep her overnight to watch for infection and, of course, the withdrawal effects from the xylazine. You may see her now but you won’t be able to stay overnight with her.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Emily said, shaking the man’s hand before he departed. She turned around to face her friends. “You guys can go home, I’ll call a cab back home later. Thank you for being here for me.”

Morgan gave her an incredulous look, standing from his seat. “Emily, if you think we’re just going to leave you then you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Yeah,” Garcia piped up. “We’ll be right here for you. None of us are leaving.”

“You would do the same for any of us,” Reid backed her up.

Now Emily wasn’t one for tears but upon hearing the support she got from her friends, she could feel herself starting to tear up. She took a stabilizing breath, thanking them before turning to head into your hospital room.

It was quiet. That was the first thing she noticed. Instead of your infectious laugh filling the void space, it was the steady beeping of the machine connected to your finger, ensuring that you still had a heartbeat. It broke Emily’s heart to see you like this, bloodied and bruised.

She dragged one of the hospital chairs over to your bedside, hesitating before taking your hand up in hers. It was all her fault that you were here. If her job was less dangerous, you’d have still been in your hometown rather than following her all the way to Quantico, Virginia. You probably would have already been married with five adoptive children like you always wanted.

Instead, you're here. In a hospital in Washington DC recovering from being kidnapped by a psycho that Emily most likely unknowingly brought back to your home. If you didn’t hate her after this, she’d consider it a miracle.

_____

The first thing you saw when you came to was Emily’s face full of worry, her eyebrows knitted together in concentration as she thought long and hard. Your hand was in hers, still limp as you slowly regained feeling in your extremities.

Very gently, you squeezed her hand, letting her know you were awake.

“Hi baby,” you whispered, your throat a bit scratchy from the lack of lubrication. As if reading your mind, she handed you a cup of water off the hospital bedside table. You took a few sips, keeping your eyes on your girlfriend as she looked deep in thought.

You set the water aside, groaning as you realized your entire side was sore. You couldn’t remember if you hit it against something. From what you knew, the only injury you suffered was your head wound, which was newly wrapped.

You looked her up and down, squeezing her hand slightly to gain her attention. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

Emily bit her lip, carefully picking her next words. “Y/n… I think we should take a break.”

This came out of nowhere. Her words slammed into you harder than a football quarterback would have, stealing all the breath from your lungs as you processed her words.

“What?”

“We should take a break. It’s just--I put you in more danger than you asked for and you don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve not knowing when or if I’ll come home. You don’t deserve me dropping plans for a case or forgetting your birthday because I’m working. You deserve someone who can be there and I’m sorry, but I’m not that. I-I don’t deserve you.”

“What? Emily, no. First off, you don’t get to decide what I do and don’t deserve. Second, none of this was any of your fault. I knew what your job was from the very beginning and I chose to stay because I wanted to. So what if you forget my birthday, there’s always next year and so what if you cancel plans, we’ll just make new ones. Emily, please don’t--” Tears pearled in the corners of your eyes as your voice caught in your throat. “Baby, where did this come from?”

She shrugged, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. She let go of your hand, pulling away even as you tried to keep her there. “I’ll see you around, Y/n.”

You couldn’t do anything as she walked out. You called for her, hands shaking as you tried to think of something--anything to say to her as she left your life. The worst part wasn’t even her leaving, you later decided. The worst part was that Emily Prentiss didn’t even bother turning around for one last look. She just left you with your broken heart scattered about the room, leaving you to pick up your own pieces.

_____

You wanted to hate Emily Prentiss. You really did.

The way she just left you leaving you numb until you were forced to feel everything as you underwent twenty-four hours of withdrawal. Xylazine wasn’t something to mess with, you knew that even before you have been drugged with it. But now, two months after you and Emily split paths, you stayed in Virginia.

Why would you move? You’d already built up a life in the state. All your friends were there and so was your job, which you had grown to love despite the overbearing mother that neighbored workspaces with you.

You knew Nancy meant well, that she just wanted to make sure you were adjusting to work well after you’d been kidnapped, but sometimes you just wanted the woman to take a long walk away from you and never return. Right now was one of those times.

“It’s been two months,” Nancy said, looking up from her computer screen. She had been finalizing her schedule for that week, boxing off the times she needed so she could go visit her son in college. “You need to move on with your life. Find yourself another girlfriend or at least go out with your friends. I hate seeing you all mopey like this.”

Nancy had a point. You did need to make an effort to go out, to go back to “normalcy” or whatever. Even your therapist was pushing you to socialize, saying that it could help you get over the recurring nightmares.

“I don’t want to go out tonight, Nancy,” you replied, trying to focus on the work in front of you. The numbers were starting to blur together but you persevered. You didn’t have much longer until the end of work. As soon as you finished the spreadsheet on the screen in front of you, you were home free.

“At least try, Y/n,” Nancy insisted. “Call up some of your friends, hit the club. Even if you don’t drink, at least try to have fun again.”

“But I have fun talking to you. Why do I need to go have more fun.”

Nancy wasn’t taking any of your shit. She packed away her things, powering down her computer. She lowered her standing desk and pulled her purse over her shoulder. “Hopefully you’ll be telling me all about your night out when I see you tomorrow morning. Good night, Y/n.”

Grumpily, you replied, “Good night, Nancy.”

You stayed at the office thirty minutes more and after a solid five-minute debate with yourself, you gave in and called up your friends. Lyndsey and Brenna both said they’d be down while Brent replied with utter regret, saying he had been roped into working the night shift.

And so you drove to Lyndsey’s to get ready, agreeing to be the DD seeing as you didn’t exactly want to get pissed drunk--especially not with Emily still on your mind.

You drove the three of you to the nearest club, showing your IDs to the bouncer and entering without a problem.

“I’m gonna get us shots,” Brenna shouted over the music, disappearing a moment later. You and Lyndsey stumbled over to a table, claiming it for the three of you as the music seemed to grow louder.

Brenna pushed through the crowd to get back to the two of you, two shots balanced in one hand with another in her other. “Y/n, I know you said you weren’t drinking but one drink can’t hurt.”

“Yeah, Y/n,” Lyndsey ganged up on you. She took the two shots from Brenna, holding the second one out to you. “Besides, Brenna already paid for it so you have to.”

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly, giving in to their peer pressure. You figured you were already out, what was one shot gonna do? You took up the little glass, counting down with your friends before knocking back the alcohol. You made a face at the taste, coughing a little as it burned a trail down past your lungs.

“Let’s dance!” Brenna cheered, pulling both of you out onto the dance floor. Laughing, you allowed her to drag you along. She pulled you both on either side of her, jumping up and down as the music pounded into your eardrums, the rhythmic beat coursing through your body.

I made a promise to you, to never let you go.

You swayed to the music, holding onto Lyndsey’s hands as she sang along. She twirled you around, causing you to giggle. Brenna serenaded you from behind, grabbing your hips and making you sway.

But now I see you're moving on and I'm still all alone, oh oh.

From across the club, your eyes connected with a familiar pair. Emily Prentiss stared you down. Around her were her work friends, all drinking their cares away. None of them realized that you were there.

Every time I say I'm happy for you I just lie, oh oh. I made a promise to you and I'm still holding on, oh oh.

You forced yourself to look away, suddenly not in the mood to be dancing. Still, you forced a smile, sticking it out for the rest of the song. As All Mine faded into the next song, you excused yourself for water. Not thinking much of it, they let you go, continuing to dance with each other.

You stumbled off the floor, accidentally bumping into a guy who looked like a frat boy from one of the colleges in the area.

“Sorry,” you apologized, stepping away. Instead of going back to clubbing on his own, he grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to him.

“No need to be sorry, baby,” he drunkenly slurred, hands already moving down your body. “I’m Chad. What’s your name, princess?’

“None of your business,” you spat, trying to break free of his grip. Your attempts were futile, however, his grip tightening instead of loosening like you wanted it to. Memories of your abduction flashed through your mind as he placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek, the feeling of Stephen’s chapped lips pressed against the same cheek causing you to freeze up.

“Please let go,” you whimpered, though your pleas were drowned out by the music. Tears started to fall as he kissed down your neck, your body frozen as he took advantage of you.

It seemed you had an angel on your side that night because Chad was ripped off you not even a moment later, your savior having torn him off your body and thrown him back a good few inches.

“Get the fuck away from her,” Emily said, placing herself between you and your assailant.

Chad squared up to Emily, cocking his head sideways as if to intimidate her. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Emily whipped out her badge, shoving it into the poor fool’s face. “FBI,” she said with authority. “Now scram.”

Chad paled at the badge, most likely never having had a run-in with law enforcement before. He scrambled backward, almost knocking over a dancing couple before disappearing back into the crowd.

Emily turned back around to face you, tucking her ID back in her pocket.

“Are you okay?” she asked you with a gentleness you could almost mistake with care. You scoffed. You weren’t going to fall for that again.

“What the fuck, Emily?” you raged. “You think you can just swoop in and save the day. Newsflash, I don’t need you. I don’t need your help and I most certainly don’t need your pity. You can take your false care and shove it.”

You stormed off, not even letting her respond. You went to find your friends, who had both migrated to the bar.

“We need to leave,” you said, your voice thick with tears. You probably looked like a mess, tears streaking down your face and your body still shaking. You didn’t know if it was anger or fear.

Lyndsey must have sensed something happened because she jumped to your side the second the words came out of your mouth, urging Brenna to finish her drink so that the three of you could leave. You made your way out of the club, collapsing into the side of the building as the tears started to pour.

“What happened?” Lyndsey demanded, yanking a pack of travel tissues from her clutch and handing you one. You dabbed under your eyes, trying to salvage whatever makeup you had put on that night.

“I saw Emily,” you blubbered, accepting another tissue from your friend. “And I said something terrible. Oh, my God. She probably hates me now!”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Brenna comforted you, rubbing circles into your back. “But didn’t she break up with you? Baby girl, you don’t need her.”

You were quiet. You didn’t need Emily, but God did you want her. Not a moment went by that you didn’t miss her. She was everywhere. In the dress that you kept in the back of the closet to the little clay tray that the two of you bought together that held your keys. She was everywhere.

“I just miss her,” you muttered, sniffling a bit as you calmed down. You felt ridiculous crying over a woman who made it quite clear that she wanted nothing to do with you.

“Well, you could always talk to her,” Brenna suggested, her hand leaving your back. She pointed to the side where Emily was exiting the club, looking around for something… or rather, someone.

At that moment, she noticed the three of you crouched by the wall. She hurried over, Lyndsey and Brenna getting up to form a protective barrier in front of you.

“Lyndsey, Brenna,” she greeted your friends. “Can I please talk to Y/n?”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea right now,” Lyndsey said, her voice stern. You almost laughed at the thought of Lyndsey using her teacher's voice on Emily. You crumbled the used napkins in your hand, shoving it into your pocket as you collected yourself off the ground.

You put your hand on Lyndsey’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” you said quietly. “We can talk.”

“Are you sure?” Lyndsey’s brows knit together, concern showing quite obviously on her face. You nodded, handing her the car keys. “You guys can go wait in the car. I won’t be long, I promise.”

Lyndsey looked between you and Emily cautiously.

“Don’t worry,” Emily said, “I’ll make sure she gets back to you safely.”

With one last look, Lyndsey took the keys and disappeared off to the car with Brenna not too far behind. Brenna turned around last minute, doing the ‘I’m watching you’ movement in Emily’s direction.

The two of you stood together in silence, unsure of what the first move should be. You bit your lower lip, rocking back onto your heels nervously as Emily didn’t meet your eye.

“I’m sorry,” both of you said at the same time, awkwardly laughing as you realized what had just happened. You pulled at your fingers, a nervous tic you had developed after your abduction.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. You looked up at her. “I’m sorry I went off on you back there. You didn’t deserve any of that, you were just trying to help.”

Emily shook her head. “No, you don’t have to apologize for anything. If anyone owes an apology, it’s me. I shouldn’t have done anything. You don’t deserve that and you don’t deserve any of what I put you through.”

You swallowed harshly. “It’s okay.”

“It’s really not,” Emily said, chuckling as a way to diffuse some of the tension. “I’m a terrible person for what I did to you. I knew exactly what you had just gone through and I still went through with it. I made the choice for you without you even having a say and I regret that.”

“No,” you shook your head. “You’re not a terrible person. Emily, for the past two months I have done nothing but miss you. My goddamn therapist even suggested I reach out to you despite what you did. Breaking up with me while I was in the hospital was a shitty move, I’ll agree, but it doesn’t make you a terrible person. I promise.”

“You miss me?” Emily asked, her voice small. It was a change from her normal confidence. Her vulnerability and insecurity showed through her normally strong front. You couldn’t help but smile at her, taking a step closer to her.

You hesitated before taking her hand in your own. You brought a hand to her face, caressing her smooth features.

“I did--do miss you,” you admitted. “And before you ask anything else, I forgave you a long time ago.”

Emily’s head dropped against your hand, her eyes closing in an attempt to block out the tears that threatened to fall.

“I don’t deserve you,” she muttered.

You ran a thumb over her cheekbone, memorizing her features. “Bullshit,” you said, your voice low. You pulled her closer, standing on your toes so that your lips could meet. It was slow and passionate as you tried to convey all the emotions you felt for her through that simple action. Your arms looped around her neck as she reacted, pulling you in closer by the waist.

The kiss turned desperate as Emily tried to make up for the last time, tears rolling down your face as you realized everything into the abyss. You felt yourself relax into Emily, pulling away as you sobbed.

She put her hand under your chin gently, lifting your face so that your eyes met hers.

“Why are you crying, baby?” she asked, her voice a whisper. She kissed underneath your eyes, most likely tasting the salt of your tears. You couldn’t help it, the tears weren’t stopping.

“I just really missed you,” you admitted, wiping the tears away with the heel of your hand. Emily took your hand in hers, bringing them up to her mouth so she could place a kiss on your knuckles. It was the same gesture she had made two months ago before she broke up with you but this time, the message that came with them was different.

“If you give me another chance, I promise I won’t screw it up,” she said, running her thumb over your knuckles.” I-I promise I’ll work harder on being the woman you deserve.”

You hummed, resting your head on her chest as she drew her arms around you, protecting you from the world and all the evils within it.

“You already are.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@beautiful-holland @toms-order @starlightfound @lemirabitur @grandmascottlang @positiveparker @bippity-boppity-boopa @caswinchester2000

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go-hux-yourself · 4 years

Text

Tethercord

I saw this fanart by @ellalba and I just had to write something!! Many thanks for the inspiration, just *chef’s kiss* that’s good shit.

This labeled as Tethercord. Also on my ao3 here :) My masterlist archive of bullshit i write can be found linked at the top of the blog or here.

He should have thought this through just a bit more, but there simply wasn’t enough time.

Shoot me in the arm, he’d told him, right after refusing to go with them.

It was a wound that wouldn’t be too serious; one he could still walk away from without impeding his own ability to protect himself. One that would provide him alibi for helping the three escape.

Hux had been shot in the leg instead, the suddenness and surprise dropping him to the floor as much as the pain itself. He was outraged in the first second, then considered the next that this would surely play better in solidifying his innocence as part of his cover.

That’s when he realized the wound was bleeding. Profusely.

They’d taken him with them for that fact, a trail of blood in their wake as he could do little to defy the pilot’s arm around his waist with the pain of the wound in his thigh.

Was this technically a kidnapping? Did it even matter? If he kept bleeding the way he was, it would no longer be a problem.

He was half in Poe Dameron’s lap on the floor of the cockpit, the man putting pressure on the wound with his hands over Hux’s own. They’d made the jump to lightspeed already, but they’d taken far too long to see to Hux’s injury. The blood-loss was severe, even with the paltry supplies from the ship’s med-kit staunching the wound.

The white bandaging and trauma-kit was really only a quick-fix, but Hux needed real medical attention.

“Rey, we gotta hurry! He’s lost too much blood!”

“We’ll be there soon.”

Hux had his eyes shut against the pain, grimacing as Dameron’s hand pressed harder into his leg. It woke him up a bit, but he was dizzy; disoriented. The way he was sort of propped up sideways in the man’s lap only made him spin more, not to mention the indignity.

He leaned back hard until he could feel durasteel behind him. It didn’t help with his sense of orientation. Confusion mixed with the surreality of his situation as the world spun around him, and Hux made a noise of pain.

The pain was real at least. Solid. It jolted through his consciousness and grounded him at the point where the other man’s hand pressed into the wound. He was cold-- or at least he was shaking- and so much was going on it was becoming harder and harder to focus. He wished he could block out the sound like he could his vision.

“Are they tracking us?”

“I don’t think so. We got out of there quick enough.”

He wished they wouldn’t talk so much. If he had to die here, he wanted it to be quiet. At least the arm around his back steadying him was warm. That was some small modicum of comfort to the reality of bleeding out on an old freighter in the enemy’s arms.

Was he the enemy still, though? Hux wasn’t sure. He was a traitor, probably. He was becoming less sure with every beat of his heart. Blood loss, his brain supplied again. Kriff.

“...I didn’t mean to hit an artery.”

The wookie growled something Hux was certain was rude. He didn’t care. At least the traitor’s voice had sounded slightly regretful of his actions. It made morbid satisfaction rise in Hux; that he’d be affected by Hux’s death in some way. Maybe Hux’s actions had helped them even more than he’d assumed.

His smile came out a grimace.

“I know.” The arm at Hux’s back shifted, and the fingers on his leg adjusted. “Shit he’s pale.” He winced and hissed as more pressure was applied to his thigh. “You hang in there, Hugs.”

Hugs. Yeah, that’s who was holding him. The pilot who’d once humiliated him, but that he was fairly sure had been his contact this whole time.

Dying on the floor with Poe Dameron’s hands on him, what a fate. That was a better death than he expected from this life, if he were being entirely honest with himself. The nickname, though, he was still prickled by, and alive enough to voice his opinion on such matters.

Hux opened his eyes with a feeling of annoyance that was quickly replaced with a sudden acute awareness of the man holding him.

He couldn’t remember anyone being this close to him that wasn’t somehow threatening in nature. The care in his body language alone was loud and obvious. Striking. And he could see Dameron’s stubble; lines at the corners of his eyes from smiling; the way the man’s brows were knit together as he concentrated on keeping Hux’s hand sealed under his own, fingers flexing.

The expression on Dameron’s face was one of genuine, open concern, which was also distracting to Hux’s nearly-drunken state of mind. It was getting harder to think. He couldn’t remember what he was annoyed about. If the damn room would stop spinning, he might be able to. The longer he looked at the other man’s face, though, the longer it didn’t matter.

Poe’s eyes locked on Hux’s, the dazed look there worrying as Hux retracted one of his hands from beneath Poe’s own. Still strong enough to move his limbs. That was minorly reassuring. Maybe he wouldn’t die. Poe gave his hand a squeeze. They were both still sticky with his blood. “You still with me buddy?” BB-8 beeped a warning about Hux’s blood-pressure. He nodded to the droid before looking from Hux to the cockpit. “I know. Rey, how far are we?”

“Ten minutes out. How are you doing back there?”

Hux’s hand began to rise of its own volition as he stared up at the other man holding him. He’d never had this, had he? Someone touching him kindly with genuine concern for his well-being. A firm hand over one of his own, skin-to-skin and warm and real.

Was it real? Was he already hallucinating?

He wasn’t so far gone that his logic was, though. It was more likely that he’d been left to bleed out in the hall, and this was all some hopeful fantasy before his brain starved of oxygen and he died. He’d definitely rejected Dameron’s offer to come with them-- the way the man’s face had fallen, that had been the source of this hallucination in a cockpit, surely- and he’d been shot in the leg instead of the arm like he’d asked. Probably some petty revenge for rejecting the offer. Only it had gone wrong.

And now he was bleeding to death, left in that corridor as they made their escape, but thinking he was in the arms of a man who’d once mocked him, being spirited to safety.

That sounded much more plausible, his brain supplied. This was war. These things happened. And if he was hallucinating this badly, then he’d probably be dead before long.

It didn’t matter if this was real or not, then, his brain also reasoned.

“...Dameron?” Hux spoke softly, looking at the pilot’s face and wondering how his stubble might feel. Would it feel real for the hallucination? Like the hand on his or the thigh at his back? His vision kept getting splotchy, questioning his own coherence and grip on reality.

The pilot was looking at him now, at least. And that opened up a whole new world of things for Hux to be distracted by.

“What is it?” Poe wasn’t going to ask if he was okay-- he obviously was not- but he was encouraged that Hux still had a voice. It was breathy, but if the general was still coherent and awake-- and knew who he was- then he was still okay. His eyes were glassy and his face was pale, but he only had to hang on a bit longer. Poe had Hux’s attention, anyways. The man’s gaze was locked on his own in focus. “Speak to me, Hugs.”

Hux’s fingers made contact with his jaw first, and Poe realized as the other man’s palm bloomed on his cheek, that he was being touched. Caressed. Poe was confused only a moment before realization took him, and he felt heat enter his cheeks at the craziness of it all.

This was hardly the time to get excited over anything, let alone the delirious touches of a man dying in his arms. Yet here the general of the First Order was-- their spy; a man Poe had secretly been fantasizing about for over a year since he’d had his suspicions on that- actually caressing his cheek.

Hux dragged the pad of his thumb over Poe’s jaw to his chin, feeling it with a sort of unrepentant grin as the pilot’s brows raised. His glassy gaze was locked with Poe’s own. “...You have beautiful eyes.”

Poe’s mouth hung open just a bit. That was certainly unexpected, and this was absolutely not the time to be super flattered by that, even if he could feel his face heating with a little more than concern. From what they knew about the general, and Poe’s own interactions and guesses, this was the last thing he expected. Being called scum by the man was normal. This?

This was… exactly out of some of his dirty fantasies where he got to play the hero and save the day. Poe was trying to save his life, doing his best to that end, but-- General fucking Hux? in his lap and stroking his cheek and saying he was beautiful?

“Shit he’s dying!”

Hux let his arm drop back to his lap, dizzy for the loudness and proximity of Dameron’s alarmed voice and how the man changed his hold on him. Hux was annoyed again, and it was hard to keep track of things. He was pretty certain that he was going to black out with the way his vision kept tunneling, and he was entirely dependent upon Dameron keeping him upright at that. The only thing he was able to focus on was keeping his hand on his thigh which was still soaked in blood.

The man above him was exchanging worried tones with the others as Hux fought to keep his consciousness. The droid beeped shrilly, and Dameron’s hands both squeezed his arm as he spoke some kind encouragement that was hard for Hux to follow in this state.

He thoroughly wished they’d all be quiet and let him die in peace.

my kofi | ao3 main

#gingerpilot fanfic #gingerpilot #armitage hux #poe dameron #Star Wars fanfic #this was so super fun and i just love that little fanart AAAAGH ITS TOO PERFECT #Hux honey you're a natural and Poe is smitten AAHHAA #i could definitely write more shit i love these two xD #please leave a comment over on ao3 if you enjoyed! :D I always super appreciate that even if its just 'thanks for the read!' hahaha!

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melyaliz · 4 years

Text

Past Loves and Future babies pt. 4

Masterlist

Fandom: Marvel / MCU

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OC

Summary: After realizing Peggy has moved on Steve comes back to the present to take on his biggest mission ever. Have a baby that will save the world

(Play avatar theme music)

Notes: This whole story was inspired by the idea of that annoying thing where people over fantasize a situation. (I’m super guilty of it)

I like to think of Dixie as a broken dreamer.

And Steve as a guilty idealist

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

DONATE or REQUEST

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

Soft warmth. That was what Dixie felt as her mind slowly slid from her deep slumber to consciousness. Her eyes slowly drew open, The warmth of the morning light falling across her face filling the rest of the room. Well by the morning light filling the room it was probably more like the noonday sun. Dixie had never been much of an awake before noon kind of gal.

Slowly she moved the sheets next to her were slightly cold. Empty. confused she sat up rubbing her head running her fingers through her hair. Her groggy brain trying to piece together what was off.

She was not a morning person.

Then it hit her.

She was alone.

Looking around Steve was nowhere to be seen.

It shouldn’t bother her. It was late. A normal person would be up and out around now. And it wasn’t like he owned her anything. He literally couldn’t even have sex with her.

Not that that meant anything but…

Letting out a long groan Dixie lay back in the bed. For a moment she wondered if she just closed her eyes maybe she would wake up in her shitty bed back in Arizona. Mac typing away from being up all night ready to turn in while she was considering breakfast burritos or just going back to sleep.

Simpler times.

Times before she had to get a baby pumped into her to save the world by a man who couldn’t even bother to stay the night with her.

Pulling a pillow around her head she tried to close out those unfair thoughts. This was for the better. The less he was around the less she would be attached. The less she was endanger of falling in love.

Dixie had known going into this that it would be like this. She would NOT let dark thoughts about a man who had no reason to be in love with her acting rationally about this whole situation. Yes, it was hard not to play the fantasy game of destiny and soulmate lovers but this was the real world. And it wasn’t unfair to put those unrealistic expectations on Steve.

Things like falling in love with her.

So rolling over onto her side Dixie sighed looking out the large window. The light shining through the thing curtain that hung over it. This was her home now. This was her life. She mine as well make the best of it.

Even if her bed just felt so lonely.

--------

It was warm that morning. For a moment Steve wasn’t sure where he was. It was so soft and comfortable. The calmness seemed to be envelop him. Slowly he opened his eyes his body shifting to realize there was an arm around his chest. A small delicate hand resting on his torso.

It all came rushing back. Last night, the day before.

Dixie.

She was buried into his back, and for a moment he wondered if she was breathing. Taking her small hand in his large one he gently pried her away from his back. Then turing he lay on his side facing her so he could make sure she was still asleep. She mumbled for a moment brows knitting together before she peacefully went back to sleep burying herself in the blankets. Her soft round face was so peaceful as she rested, her breath gently blew a strand of hair that had fallen onto her face.

Gingerly he brushed her hair away pulling the blanket up around her before kissing her forehead.

Everything that had happened. He couldn’t blame her for it. Like she had said last night. They were in this together.

“Well look at you all bright and early” Sam laughed as Steve walked up to him and Bucky stretched on the lawn getting ready for their daily run.

“I thought you would want to sleep in today” Bucky smirked and Sam laughed. However, catching Steve’s rather tense stance, Bucky's smirk flattered. Sam on the other hand, didn’t pick up on the subtle tension on their friend’s shoulders.

“No rest for Captain America?”

“Not Captain anymore” Steve reminded Sam. After coming back from delivering the stones he had given his shield to Sam. even if he couldn’t get the girl he was going to hang up his colors. Help in the background.

Be just Steve Rogers.

“Whatever you say,” Sam said.

“Also you owe me” Bucky shouted hitting Sam on the chest before taking off leading their morning run. Steve trailing closely with Sam several paces behind shaking his head muttering something about “damn super soldiers”

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

Dixie yawned scratching her head as she slowly walked into the living room, still in her pjs just dragging her bare feet through the plush carpet. Blinking owlishly she looked around the room, the large window that overlooked the beautiful landscape was filling the room with warm sunlight giving the whole room a very happy feeling.

This place really was beautiful.

It made her skin itch slightly. Like when you eat something too sweet or smell something that is just… too clean.

Curling up on the couch Dixie pulled a soft white blanket around herself. What to do, what to do. Pulling out her phone she looked it over for a moment before pressing the call button.

She shouldn't but…

“Am I an uncle yet?”

Just the sound of his voice made her want to cry. Her chest twisting uncomfortably. A deep thick feeling building in her stomach. As if her chest was bleeding into her body.

“Hey Mac.” her voice was light and airy. A bit of a giggle added for effect.

“That bad huh?”

Fuck him. There was no lying to her older brother. Years of them relying on the other meant they always knew when something was wrong.

It was a blessing and a curse.

“No babies yet” Dixie said doging the second question as she picked at her red toe nail polish that was peeling. “We didn’t really do much last night. He was… really awkward.”

“Oh really?” Mac paused, “You think maybe they got the wrong sibling?”

Dixic laughed, a real laugh this time. Lodging whatever was ripping into her chest lose slightly. Causing her to feel lighter.

“I mean I do love me a blonde.” Mac continued.

“I’m not sure how the whole pregnancy thing would work though.”

“I mean anything is possible at this point. Gods are real and literally half of all living things were gone for 5 years only to come back as if nothing had happened.”

“You have a point.”

“Well I am the smarter one”

“Can’t argue with you there.” Dixie looked over her even more chipped red nails, she was going to have to repaint them soon. Vaguely she hoped she hadn’t forgotten to pack that color. It was her favorite. It had that Warden Walker feel to it. And if Dixie wanted to channel anyone at the moment it was a woman who wore snake venom on her nails.

“How are things on your end?” she asked changing the subject from her not so baby daddy to her brother.

“Eh, not much. The forms have been pretty quiet and I’m waiting on that program you… acquired. It’s still hot so I can’t trade it for another two weeks at least.”

“Oh yeah I totally forgot about that.” Dixie mumbled digging around her bag looking for her nail polish. “How much longer will you be in Arizona?”

“Probably not much longer. I’m thinking maybe Denver for a while? Or maybe North Carolina? At least then I’ll be on the same coast as you.”

“Same coast is nice.” Dixie said, even if he wasn’t in the same state the thought of having him just a bit closer made her feel better. She knew she was being a baby about all this but… as tough as she acted he was the one constant in her life and she missed him.

“So how’s the new place.”

“Better than anything we could afford.”

“Please send me pictures.”

“Oh I forgot to tell you,” Dixie smiled as she found the police at the bottom on her bad, “Steve didn’t decorate because he wanted to make sure I had a say.”

“Poor guy, he doesn’t know how shit your taste is.”

“Yeah, I should have warmed him but now… I feel like maybe he should suffer for his mistake.”

Mac’s laugh echoed from the other end and for a moment Dixie felt like he was right next to her. The two of them as kids sneaking out when their dad was in one of his moods. Escaping into the night to buy ice pops from the mart down the street and sit on the hill by their house and watch the star trying to figure out the constellations. Just the two of them making plans on when they were going to escape this stupid town and never look back.

No matter how bad it got they always had each other.

It didn’t matter how far he was. Dixie knew he would always be there. Just like she would always be there for him.

---------

“So how was the first day?” Bucky asked as he ran alongside Steve. His blue eyes studying his best friend. He had seen the way Steve had been acting since he got the news about his “destiny” It was like a dark cloud had slowly started to loom over him. It only got worse as time went on until Bucky rarely recognized the man next to him as the car pulled up with the young woman.

Bucky was the only one who had known what Steve’s plans had been. About going back to Peggy. To start a real life. He had told Bucky the night before he had left. Determination written on his face knowing that this was what he wanted. That he was going to finally do the thing he had been fighting toward.

A real life.

Then he came back. Heartbroken. More defeated than Bucky had ever seen him before. If it hadn’t been Steve Bucky had been worried. But he knew that no matter what Steve could handle it.

Or that was what he had told himself until this. It had happened so quickly after Steve had realized he could never have the one thing he wanted. It was as if he really was going to have to give his whole life to the world. Every bit of him, not just his body but his heart as well.

Never be able to have anything for himself.

Which was now, as Steve ran next to him, so focused on just moving. Bucky truly worried. The look on his best friend’s face was so placid Bucky couldn't read him at all.

Which was rare.

Turning Steve shrugged, “We just fell asleep. I… I don’t know Bucky.”

“Yeah I could tell how you kept tip toeing around her all night.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah Steve it really is. She’s not china, she’s not going to break.”

“It’s just…” Steve sighed trying to find the right words. Trying to explain what it was like to force some woman he didn’t know anything about into his life. And not just his life. His bed, his life, his future.

“She’s a stranger Steve, you both are.”

“That’s what I keep thinking. I don’t know this woman at all.”

“Well that’s why she’s here so you can get to know her.”

“There is just so much pressure”

Bucky nodded, this wasn’t something they could just punch their way out of. In fact there really wasn’t much he could do to help his friend really. It wasn’t like he could just go into the bedroom guns blazing and make sure this woman got pregnant by his friend.

“Now I don’t know her but she’s probably feeling the same way you are. You both just need to take the time to get to know each other.” Bucky thought back to his days when they were both younger. All the women he would take out. They had all been strangers once too. “You just need to romance her, treat her like any other dame. Just take the whole destiny out of it.”

Steve sighed chuckling as he looked over at Bucky, “I don’t know if you have forgotten in your old age Buck but… I was never very good at romancing a woman.”

“Well why not start with my tried and true” Bucky said smiling. Steve frowned studying his friend unsure what he was going to say.

“Take her dancing”

-GET TAGGED!-

Masterlist

Story Tag: @itsmeeluciie

Forever tag: @the-shadow-of-atlantis @coffee-randomness @0hmydeku @xx3fsxx @daisyboobear @jason-redhood @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep @cdwmtjb8

#Steve Rogers fluff #Steve Rogers x oc #Steve Rogers fanfic #Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers smut #Steve Rogers slow burn #Marvel fanfic #Marvel long fic #Marvel x oc

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Gifted

Title: Gifted (Sequel to Giftless)

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 39/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE:

Imagine that you are Stark’s niece and you secretly share a strong relationship with Loki since he entered the crew. One day you get hurt so bad during a mission that you are about to die. Loki knows a spell that will save you and share his immortality with you but you and he will be linked forever sharing thoughts, pain, emotions…

RATING: T

The next thing you knew, you were being dragged out of bed. You opened your mouth to scream, your eyes snapping open as you automatically reached for a dagger. A hand clapped over your mouth while the person dragging you out of bed grabbed your wrist to stop you from drawing a dagger on them. “Kat, it’s me,” Claire hissed in a whisper. She dragged you from your bed and through a portal, her hand still firmly over your mouth. She didn’t trust you when you was mostly asleep. You didn’t blame her. “Balder claimed another victim,” she explained once you were on the other side of the portal. “You’re the only one strong enough to save his victims,” she added as she finally removed her hand from your mouth. You stumbled behind her, still not awake as she dragged you to the emergency bay where one of the younger teen supers was lying in the bed.

You saw instantly why Balder had chosen her. She had dyed her hair magenta-red. It wasn’t the right shade, but it was as close as dye could get to your color of red hair. She was one of the newest recruits. You hadn’t even gotten a chance yet to learn her name or her powers. Balder had gutted her, just like he had done to Tony, Pepper, Loki, and Veronica. You fought back your anger at him. That wouldn’t help right now.

In your haze of exhaustion, you didn’t even think of calling for Loki’s help. You weren’t sure how much sleep you had gotten in the last three days, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Too much had been going on. You were in an exhausted autopilot, bordering on a healing trance, which was dangerous for you, so you did exactly what a healer on autopilot did when faced with a victim as injured as this little girl was. You threw yourself straight into the healing without thinking of anything more than fixing this girl.

You didn’t notice or think about anything else until cold hands pulled you gently away from the girls’ bed what felt like a long while later. You had been so lost to the healing trance and the pull of the healing magic that you hadn’t noticed anything around you. “She is healed, darling. Time to let go,” Loki told you softly as he took a couple of steps back, pulling you with him so your glowing blue hands lost contact with the girl and broke the last of the healing trance. You looked the girl over automatically and saw that the wound was healed. It would still be sore and fragile, but it would heal completely with time. Once that was confirmed, you could finally turn from her bed and look at Loki, finally noticing the exhaustion haze in your eyes and that your vision was starting to go black around the edges. Damn. “One of these days you will have to enlighten me as to how you manage to push yourself beyond your body’s limits without losing consciousness until after the healing is complete. It should be quite impossible.” You reached out to hold on to him to steady yourself. He swept you up into his arms before your legs gave out. You opened your mouth to answer his question. “Right this moment is not the proper time to tell you that story. Rest now,” he interrupted you before you could speak and knock out the entire room. That sounded like a good idea, so you laid your head more comfortably on his shoulder. He smiled at you, glad you were being reasonable for once. You vaguely felt, or was it saw, your brain was too foggy to even notice the difference, when Tony arrived. He paused at the doorway, taking in the scene.

Loki turned to glare at Claire and Healer Julia. “You lot are supposed to be making sure she does not get in this state from overwork. I know for a fact that you have been warned by Fury after the last time, which was just a few weeks ago. Surely your memories cannot be that poor,” he snarled at them. “You two both know that healers will not stop until they collapse from exhaustion or the healing is complete, and you know that Lady Y/N is especially bad about that, most especially when you catch her when she is half asleep.” They at least had the grace to look ashamed. Loki slipped into formality when he was fighting to rein in his temper.

“We had no choice. Grace would have died without Kat’s help!” Claire protested, nearly whining.

“So, this child’s life is worth more than the life of your strongest healer, the life of my beloved? Is that why you kidnapped her from our chambers? Is that why you feared to wake me when I could have helped with the healing, which you both very well know?” Loki was downright terrifying when he was angry. His cold rage spiraled throughout the room and ice formed along the walls. You weren’t sure you had ever seen him this angry before. In that moment, all you could do was be glad that his anger wasn’t directed at you. “Neither of you will like the consequences if you ever try to pull this stunt again.” Loki snarled, holding you protectively to his cool chest.

Tony took a step forward in the silence, drawing attention to him. “What’d you wake me for, Loki? What’s the emergency?” he demanded, as if he hadn’t just overheard all of Loki’s threats.

“The healers kidnapped Kat from her bed down here to heal someone without bothering to wake me, or have anyone here to monitor her power levels. You know how healers are…” Loki explained to Tony. His voice was calm, but you could still feel his anger at the situation.

“It was one of Balder’s victims!” Claire protested. “She’s the only one strong enough to heal them!” Tony, Loki, and Julia all glared at her. She wasn’t helping anything.

“Why do you need my help?” Tony asked, almost pleasantly. He was up to something if he was being that pleasant in this situation. “It looks like you have the situation under control,”

“You are much better at yelling at the mortals than I am. I thought it best to ask for your assistance in the matter of scolding them, and of course the subsequent report to Fury,” Loki replied pleasantly. Tony gave him a real smile. Those two getting along wasn’t a good thing.

“You’re right on that one, though you were doing a good job on your own. She gonna be ok?” Tony asked, concerned when you hadn’t moved an inch even though your eyes were still open. You started to answer with a smart-ass remark about how you was perfectly fine.

“Love, I realize that you are exhausted and rather drained of power, which generally makes you adorably brain dead, but kindly try to remember not to speak. I would hate to drop you because I have passed out,” Loki interrupted you before you could answer, his voice kind and gentle with you. He looked over at Tony. “She will be alright once I can get her back to bed,” he reassured your uncle.

"Go. I’ll take care of things here. Get her to bed before she hurts someone,” Tony ordered with a glint of a smile at you. You managed to lift your arm enough to flip him off. “Love you too, imp. Get some sleep,”

“Alright, my darling little witch, off to bed with you,” Loki said softly, his voice filled with love as he carried you from the room. You heard Tony begin roaring at the healers while you left. They were doomed to a long lecture and another scolding tomorrow when Fury got ahold of them.

/You’re not mad?/ you asked, fully expecting, now that you were thinking more clearly, for him to be upset with you for draining yourself this much.

“Not at you, darling,” he told you gently as he climbed the stairs, holding you as if you weighed nothing. “I am upset with them for dragging you out of bed and not bothering to bring me along. I know how healers are. Were it my main gift, I would probably be the same way. I am just glad I woke enough to realize you were gone,” he explained gently and kissed your forehead.

/I’m ok/ you tried to reassure him.

“Try that again in the morning when you can think coherently,” he chuckled. “You sound drunk."

You was asleep in his arms before you had even gotten back to your floor.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #gifted #chapter 39 #nekoamamori

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nad-zeta · 4 years

Text

Matchup Duo

Heyyy I’d like to submit a request to matchup if it’s still open! Here is me:I’m friendly but reserved in the beginning. Once we get to know each other, I’m warm and full of energy. I give lots of love in a relationship and need tons of affection in return.My significant half is a strong and capable guy who shares his tender side with me & only with me. I can be bratty in a relationship and I appreciate having a partner who finds it adorable. ☺️I love to hike and travel, whether just across the state or 2 flights over to the other continent. I also like putting on my favorite dress and hit the best cocktail bar in town. Having said that, some of my best memories area staying at the back yard with soft music on, watching the birds flying by while he handed me a cup of coffee; or having a few closest friends over for an evening.So that’s me and thanks for your patience! Looking forward to your replay.

Stay healthy and safe!Oh gosh and sorry about the back and forth…I forgot to mention that I was requesting for Ikesen matchup….thx!!!!

Hi, there love thanx so much for the request! Hope ya enjoy it and have a good day. Also sorry for taking sooooo long to finish it lol <3

So I match you with……………… Nobunaga

Selfie matchup

The first time Nobunaga sees you, he has to squint a little cause you are just honestly too radiant to look at.

You radiate bright and warm like the sun

He was enchanted by the way your hair caught the light; your hair reminded him of waves of earth, it looked so soft and silky flowing in the breeze

Oh, how easy it would be to compare thee to a warm summer’s day

All he could think was that he would love to caress that sun-kissed skin of your shimmering in the rays of sunlight

Hells you were enchanting

And don’t get me started on your eyes, he could absolutely get lost in those pools of dark cinnamon. Your eyes held depth and heaviness of a thousand untold stories. They were dark like the night sky and would light up with stars when you smiled

OMW how he loved your smile, and darn all he wanted to do was poke that small cute little dimple on your cheek

Your smile and face radiated a warm, welcoming energy that would just melt anyone heart instantly at the slightest grin

You were truly a hot summer fireball bringing brightness and warmth with one flash of a smile

Okay matchup section

Gosh, the first time you saw Nobunaga, you couldn’t help but be instantly attracted to him. He was beyond handsome and definitely just your type. You always did have a thing for strong manly, man guys. And Nobunaga fits that brief perfectly.

You were named Oda princess, which sounded like the most tedious job imaginable. You love to travel and explore. Not sit around in a stuffy castle playing cards all day. Even though you might be a little reserved around strangers, you looked him dead in his crimson eyes and said NO, you would much rather earn your keep instead of sponging off other’s kindness. The act of defiance was most amusing to the devil king. Although Hideyoshi beside him looked like a dog on a leash ready to attack you for daring to speak up to his lord. Nobunaga then decided to name you as castle chatelaine, and the rest was history

You were the most amusing woman standing up to him every chance you could get. You were definitely not taking this man’s shit. He requested to see you that night, and you simply rolled your eyes while making your way up to his room. You found him sitting there lazing against his armrest, and his eyes instantly lit up when he saw you enter into the room. He, in his usually demanding tone, declared that you were to entertain him for the evening. Cue you refusing his request once more. He gave you a dissatisfied frown and narrowed his eyes. You rolled your eyes and finally relented. If he wanted to be entertained, then you were going to entertain him by surprising him. You sat down across from him and handed him some tea. He was super confused; this is definitely not what he meant by entertainment. You smirked at him and said that you were going to entertain him with a story of your travels. This was just your way of low key, distracting him from the real reason he had summoned you to his room. He eagerly agreed to listen to your story. Once done, he commended you, you breathed a sigh of relief, but that was short-lived cause the next moment, he called you out for distracting him for the true purpose of you being summoned. The two of you kind of just laughed it off. You told him that you definitely weren’t going to get intimate with a man you had only just met and that the l only entertainment you were going to be providing him was with stories of your travels, well until they would run out of course. He wore his usually cocky grin and agreed, bidding you a good night as you left to retire for the night

Little did you know both Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi was eavesdropping the whole conversation. They both looked at each other and smile. You were now cleared of any suspicions of being an assassin. They really wanted to believe that you were indeed a warm, kind person. They had seen how hard you worked for them the past week, and the maids sang your praise at the friendly, wonderful person they had come to know you to be. And your conversation has now just proved that you indeed are who you said you were.

Nobunaga would invite you over to his room almost every night. You wondered when this man even got time to sleep. It had been a few weeks of your nightly visits to Nobunaga’s room, and the two of you really got to know and understand each other through the little chats. It had become a bit of a tradition now to sit in his room and drink sake while exchanging exciting stories. You had long run out of travel stories and was now telling him about the plots of books you’ve read and movies you had seen. The most entertaining story Nobunaga had heard to date was the one that you had come from the future, which he 100% believed after you had shown him proof, of course. Tonight was a little different, though. When you walked into his room, he wasn’t wearing that classic smirk if his. Instead, he was slumped over his desk, writing some documents. He was so absorbed in his work that he didn’t even hear you knock or come in; only once you were sitting in front of him with warm concerning eyes did he lookup. Red tired eyes met yours; you could see from the dark bags under his eyes and a weak smile that he definitely hasn’t taken a break for a long while. He told you that he was too busy with work to chat and drink with you tonight.

You boldly stood up and walked towards him. You gently took his hand in yours and led him over the area of the room where the two of you would usually chat and drink. You sat down and pulled him down to rest his head on your thigh; you knew the man must have been tired by the lack of resistance shown to your actions. He simply submitted. You whispered softly that he needed to take a break and that you would stay awake to protect him. It had come up in your many conversations the real reason he had only slept 3-4 hours a night. You gently pulled your fingers through his raven hair and caressed his face while he closed his eyes. He fought the sleep as long as he was able, only intending to rest his eyes for a few moments and then get back to work. Perhaps it was your soothing presence or the pleasant feeling of having someone play with his hair. He was quickly losing the fight for consciousness, as you coaxed him into a deep sleep.

Nobunaga woke up in the middle of the night; he couldn’t remember the last time his body and mind had allowed him to fall into such a deep slumber. He was honestly so relaxed he could probably get in a few more. He looked up, to see you slumped over. Little did you know Nobunaga gave you the gentlest softest look. He got up, easily lifted you up in his arms, and tucked you into his futon, getting in behind you and warping his warm arms around you as he nuzzled into your hair and drifted back into a deep sleep. The last thought Nobunaga had before drifting back off to sleep was that he may genuinely have met his match with this fireball in his arms and that he will now spend the rest of his life trying to earn and gain your affection. Little did he know you had long ago fallen in love with him. The two of you subconsciously cuddled closer to each other in your sleep.

Nobunaga woke up late that morning, having slept the best sleep of his life. He had slept with many a woman, but none brought comfort to his soul, quite like you did.

You woke up that morning feeling so warm and cozy, you had slept in way past noon, but you couldn’t help it everything around you just screamed comfortable. You slowly opened your eyes only to see you were mere centimeters away from Nobunaga’s face. No words were exchanged; the two of you simply just stared into each other’s eyes until finally, Nobunaga spoke up. “Fireball? What would you say I told you that I love you”. He tucked a strand of hair that was in your face behind your ear, letting his fingers linger. You could see by the look in his eyes he was serious and a little scared of rejection. You just smiled up at him and gave him a feather-light kiss on the lips. Had this been a few months ago, you would have lost your shit and freaked out, but you had spent so much time with this softy boy that you couldn’t help but fall in love with him

Gosh, did the two of you love to sneak out and travel around. You would leave abruptly only leaving a small note for Hideyoshi to find saying BRB. The two of you would go everywhere. He loved to take you on his favorite hiking trail. The two of you would hike up the mountain for hours, Nobunaga had even brought along a picnic basket prepared by Masamune. Once the two of you reached the top of the mountain, he threw down the soft blanket and started laying out all the food. The two of you had a feast, just chatting and eating away. He led you to the ledge of the mountain, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to sit on his lap. He nuzzled into your neck and nibble on your ear. The two of you sat there for a while, basking in the last rays of the sun. The sunset was incredibly beautiful, even more so when sharing it with the man you loved.

Nobunaga loved you so much; he treated you like his most precious fireball. One day some local daimyo came to visit in hopes of marrying off his daughter to one of the warlords, more specifically Nobunaga. As a princess of the Oda forces, you were to dress up according to your title and status. You put on your favorite dress that Nobu had commissioned for you a while ago. It was the perfect combination of old and modern. It was a black dress with gold and red trimming that matched Nobunaga’s outfit perfectly. As you were getting dressed and ready to greet the guests with the rest of the forces, Nobunaga snuck into your room to give you a quick gift. He gave you the most beautiful hairpin and spent a few moments chatting with you. He was feeling a bit grumpy cause he wasn’t in the mood to entertain; he would much rather spend a quiet night drinking sake with you.

At the banquet, you were feeling a bit bratty. Especially seeing the way, the daimyo’s daughter was clinging to Nobunaga. You were chatting with Mitsuhide and Masamune’s side-eyeing the whole situation. Nobunaga could see the light pout on your face from being away from him for so long. He knew you were a bit “bratty,” so to speak, but honestly, he found it incredibly cute. He was sitting on his dais, leaning on the armrest. He wore that same old stone-cold smirk with a haunting gaze. Only those close to him were privileged enough to see the real Nobunaga, and only one was special enough to see his sweet loving side. He had, had enough of the small talk between him and the woman trying to gain his affection; he looked over at you, trying to catch your eyes to call you over. Finally, when the two of you locked eyes, his expression softened, and he motioned for you to come over to him. Once in front of him, he took your hand in his and pulled you to sit in his lap. He then nuzzled into your neck, saying how much he had missed you. The daimyos daughter was furious and started to bad mouth you. Nobunaga then, in his loud commanding voice, decided to make your relationship status clear to everyone around so that no one would question it again. “This woman here in my beloved little fireball and the keeper of my heart. She is and will be the only woman that will ever conquer my heart, and to her, I give my life”. Needless to say, the two of you spent the rest of the banquet together in each other’s arms, smiling and chatting away.

You love Nobunaga so much; he is so sweet and soft-hearted, a side that was reserved for your eyes only. He would go to the ends of the earth to see that radiant smile grace your face and would give you the world, sun, moon, and stars if you asked him. The two of you can often be found sitting on the castle rooftop listing to soft music in the distance. During this quiet time, the two of you would look up at the stars and moon, drink sake, and chat away merrily. Expect lots and lots of kisses and cuddles. Nobunaga love to touch and kiss you, he will legit shower you with his affection and love. He loves nothing more to spend the quiet evenings with you, his head resting on your tight, and you pull your fingers through his soft raven hair. He will close his eyes and think back to the first time he saw that beautiful warm sunshine smile of yours. He will smirk at the memory, thinking that he is so happy to have met his soulmate

Other potential Matches………………. Hideyoshi

I hope you enjoyed it, love! And I hope you are staying safe and well @mineko811 !

#oda nobunaga #ikesen nobunaga #nobunaga oda #matchups #ikesen matchup #match ups #nobunaga matchup #submission

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cheekytorah · 4 years

Note

Thank you for always submitting the most creative prompts! You always get my fluffy gears turning. 💛

This too me so long to respond to because I was trying to make something for you for christmas because you are one of my favourite followers, always liking and sharing always commenting and dropping me asks ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you for always finding the time to write my prompts (even though I leave you so many lol) and promising to write the rest. It means a lot!

So Happy Holidays/Christmas/New years etc etc 💋

In my effort to finish this for you I failed to find a Beta so I’m sorry it’s a bit rough.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sirius felt himself return to consciousness. The images of warm calloused hands, bright, happy camp-fires and sweat slicked bodies were immediately replaced with a sudden need to vomit and fear that his skull was moments from cracking in half, exploding from pain.

He stood up and dashed for a bush, expelled the contents of his stomach-albeit not much-and groaned in agony. He looked around at two of his best mates, in similar hell, and smiled slightly till he had to close his eyes to block out the excruciating sun. Misery does love company, after all.

Eyes closed, the warm darkness brought on a cascade of memories from the night before. Dancing around a fire in their pants, like a trio of idiots-thanks Prongs. Drinking vermouth to begin with-thanks Wormtail. Vanishing tents because how else would they be real men-yeah that one was Sirius, of course.

Then a memory of James voice encouraging him to-no he wouldn’t.

“Prongs, did you let me drunk call people last night?”

James moaned in response.

“No,” Sirius gasped. He felt panicked as memories of yelling into his phone some weird song that involved butchering Remus’ name assaulted his mind. “Did you tell me to call Moony last night?”

“I may have mentioned the merit in a drunken confession.”

Sirius stomach dropped out.

“I would like it on record that I was completely against it,” Peter interjected.

“Oh fuck,” Sirius groaned and laid down on the grass.

Why was it always fucking him?

James crawled on hands and knees and curled in a ball beside Sirius, flinching under his murderous glare.

“I’m sorry. Maybe we should turn our phones off before a night of drinking.”

“I’m never drinking again, look where it gets me. I think- fuck Prongs-I left him a voicemail where I waxed poetic about his hands! HIS FUCKING HANDS!”

“That I don’t remember,” James chuckled, but then winced when Sirius punched his shoulder.

“He probably hasn’t even heard it yet,” Peter said thoughtfully. “He did text me earlier to say his phone was going to die and he’d forgotten his charger. Wouldn’t have one till he got home tomorrow morning.”

Sirius looked up hopefully. Maybe they could, oh but it would never work, they’d have to get to Wales and none of them could apparate in their state. They’d also have to somehow manage to steal Remus’ phone without him seeing, get it back to London-

“We can do it,” James nodded, recognizing the look on Sirius’ face. “Just let me die here for a little bit and we’ll get to the car.”

They drove through to the afternoon, arriving at the Lupin’s cottage in a few short hours. Lyall answered the door but after a disgusted sniff, scowled at the boys and told them Hope and Remus had ventured out to a cousins in London. He quickly slammed the door shut in Sirius’ face and they were once again on the road.

“I swear to Merlin, James, if this ends badly,” Sirius warned.

“Look, if anything you can claim it was a prank gone wrong. Alcohol distorting the point of the prank, and I don’t know, making it more confusing.”

“Oh sure, that will go really well,” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Or, you could just tell him it was all true and then snog his face off,” James teased.

“Remus doesn’t feel like that about me,” Sirius gripped the steering wheel and glared at the road. “You think I would keep this secret for all these years if I wasn’t damn certain the truth would ruin our friendship?”

He cursed under his breath. He had made a move on Remus’ about 10 years ago, laying on their backs at the top of the astronomy tower in sixth year. He had kissed him, and Remus had pushed him away and told him not to confuse things. It was pretty clear then that Remus didn’t want him.

“I don’t get it,” James shook his head. “You could have any bloke you wanted, I see them throwing themselves at you. When was the last time you even went on a date?”

Sirius was about to object, that he went out with plenty of men, but he wasn’t sure they’d agree that one offs in the loo of a dirty pub once every few months really counted.

“Over a year ago,” Peter supplied.

“Not all of us can be with the person they are in love with, settle down and have a bloody family by the time they are twenty-one,” Sirius snarled. “And you,” he pointed at Peter through the rear view mirror. “You are not allowed to have an opinion on my relationship status when you don’t date at all.”

“I’m aro,” Peter shrugged.

“And I’m bloody serious, so both of you lay off me.”

Sirius muttered mockeries under his breath. He turned down a dead-end street as the sun began to disappear behind the trees.

~*~

“Merlin’s saggy balls!” Sirius booted the tire of James father’s car in frustration. “How do we even find him?”

They had knocked on the door and a couple cute young college kids answered the door. Not an extension of the Lupin family, and had no idea who Remus or Hope even were.

“How did Lyall give us the wrong address? Shouldn’t he know where his own family lives?” James asked, similarly discouraged.

”Lyall Lupin doesn't even like his own son, why would he care about a cousin?” Peter said absently.

”Plan B, Padfoot,” James said slowly. “Prank gone wrong. It’s believable.”

“Honestly, you should just tell him the truth,” Peter rolled his eyes. “He won’t stop being your friend, you know him better than that.”

Sirius dug his hands in his pockets and glared at the ground. Why did this have to happen. Why did he have to drink so much. Why did he have to confess his undying love to Remus?

“Well, I’m out of options, so just remember I want my casket in red oak, not that cheap shit. I know your parents are loaded so don’t hold out on me,” Sirius grinned at James but his smile quickly faded and he groaned.

Sirius kept glancing at his phone, no new calls, or texts. Obviously Remus hadn’t heard the voicemail—yet, because he wasn’t being bombarded with questions or apologies or—what he wanted most—returned affections. He knew that was an impossibility.

James took the drivers seat again and they set off on their trip back to London. Peter was snoring in the back and James was humming along with the radio. Harry and Lily would be sleeping when he had finally dropped them off and slipped into their cottage in Godric’s Hollow, so they had stopped for some take out and pulled up outside an old skate park.

“Why do you think Remus doesn’t like you back?”

“I tried to kiss him once, back when I first realized I was gay—like super gay—he pushed me away. Told me he didn’t want me to ruin things when I was finally earning back his trust.”

“Can you blame him? After what you did-”

“Of course not, but if he had felt something for me, he would have said something back then.”

James made a noncommittal noise and went back to his curry.

“Blimey, this stuff is garbage,” he complained and Sirius smirked.

“Nothing beats your mums,” Sirius chuckled.

James nods as they drive off towards Sirius’ flat. When they pull up Peter is awake and slides into the passenger seat. They both wave and Sirius slips into the building. When he’s in the safety of his bed he lets all his doubts cloud around him, attacking him with anxiety and gloom. Was he going to wake up and lose Remus forever. Had he already lost him and just didn't know it yet

~*~

Of course his dreams were affected by his uncertainty. Words of harsh rejection yelled at him in Remus’ pitch. It was as if he was drowning in ‘let’s just be friends’,‘I can’t even look at you’ and ‘you disgust me’. He was covered in a cold sweat and he felt sick. He was overreacting, he told himself, but the fear of losing one of his most important people terrified him.

It was half-past eight when he knocked quietly on Remus’ door.

“Oh hey Moons, can I use your phone?” Sirius pushed past and stood expectantly in his living room.

“Sure, something up with yours?”

“Oh err, yeah not working right.”

Remus hums in agreement and Sirius darts over to the phone charging on the wall. ‘1 new voicemail’ flashed on the screen. Sirius sighs with relief as he punches in the voicemail code and listens.

“Moony, no doubt Sirius is on his way over there right now. We went to great lengths this weekend to attempt to prevent you listening to Sirius’ voicemail from friday night, but in case he managed to delete it, I think you should know anyways. He’s mad about you. You both are a couple of idiots who need to wake up and smell the big gay love.” Siriuis could hear James snickering as Peter spoke and then the line went dead. He cursed under his breath, vowing to kill James. But then, if this was the only new voicemail. Oh fuck.

Sirius turned off the phone, squeezed the phone in his hands, and bracing himself turned around to face Remus. Remus who was standing now, leaning against the doorway to his bedroom with a raised brow and crossed arms. Remus who had a delicious little smirk playing at the corner of his gorgeous mouth. Remus who-

“Anything interesting?”

Siius didn’t know what to say. What could he even say? So he didn’t say anything he just stood there like a wild animal cornered, assessing his escape options. Remus pushed off of the wall and strode forward a few paces and came to a halt in front of Sirius, not five feet from him.

“You know,” Remus said thoughtfully. “I got this really interesting voicemail Saturday morning.”

Sirius felt the colour drain from his face.

“But you-”

“You didn’t think my mum would let me get away with not having a phone all weekend did you?” Remus interrupted with a smile, amusement painting his every feature. Then his smile faded into a look of uncertainty. “Look, if you want, we can forget the whole thing.”

“What do you-”

“You were drunk,” Remus interrupted again. “We all say things we don’t entirely mean when we’ve had far too much to drink, and you definitely sounded like you had too much to drink.”

“Well I-”

“And you didn’t really get my hopes up or anything, it’ll be fine. Our friendship is the most important thing to me. You, James, Peter, us-the Marauders I mean-That’s what matters and I wouldn't want to screw any of that up. Nothing else matters, I don’t want to make anything awkward either, the other stuff could just fade away.”

Sirius grinned, both his brows raised and watched as Remus babbled away, offering a ‘Moony?’ every so often, hoping to cut into his spoken monologue. And people told Sirius that he was the one who liked to hear himself talk.

“Granted it hasn’t in years. I mean, it’s not like weird or anything-fuck-I just mean-”

“Moony!” Sirius said loudly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he shook his head in exasperation. “Shut up.”

He stepped forward quickly, gripped Remus shoulders and pulled him against himself. Their noses were practically touching, Remus’ eyes locked with Sirius’.

“If you don’t want me to kiss you, tell me now,” Sirius said quietly, practically a whisper in the silent room, their lips a mere inch apart. When Remus didn’t reject him Sirius closed his eyes and brushed his lips gently against Remus’ in a chaste kiss. He pulled away and looked at Remus, searching his face for a reaction and grinned when Remus beamed back at him.

One of Remus’ arms snaked around Sirius’ waist and the other cupped the back of his neck, pulling him back into a kiss that was deeper, stronger, and felt like a promise. They tasted, explored and teased for what seemed like forever, and ended too soon. Remus tasted like fresh water in the desert, smelled amazing, felt like home. They were still standing there-sirius still in his leather jacket and his shoes on-when a loud crash interrupted their ministrations.

“All your clothes better be on, Pads,” James called as he banged his way into Remus’ flat. “I swear to Merlin!”

Remus chuckled as Sirius groaned and dropped his head to Remus’ shoulder, but his shoulders shook with his own laughter too. He pulled back and looked back into Remus’ eyes who simply winked at him.

“What if it’s me who stripped and pulled a naked man, Prongsie?”

“Well that would be quite unexpected and out of character for the great Mssr. Moony, and I would have to encourage it,” Sirius could practically hear him grinning. “Carry on, I’ll just wait here, totally not listening to you both at all.”

Sirius grabbed a pillow off of Remus’ bed, darted out of Remus’ room and threw it at James who was sprawled out on the couch already flicking through the tele.

“Perv,” Sirius laughed and tackled James, giving him a couple playful punches to the gut.

Remus’ laughed and pulled out some of the pizza James had brought--apparently it was already lunch time, they really had been snogging for sometime--and settled on the floor, all lanky limbs and curly hair. Sirius watched him fondly before falling back into their usual banter and good natured teasing. This was the best part of being in love with his best friend.

#wolfstar #sirius #remus #sirius x remus #drunk calls #drunken confessions

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evien-stark · 4 years

Text

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 145

Uploading the image you’d finally obtained and finally had time to do something with- Kilgrave’s face. Clear on your footage. And now it was going into your network files. Damage Control agents had it. The Avengers had it. But you had to mark his face with a DO NOT ENGAGE label. Because you couldn’t send people after him. He’d just tell them to kill themselves. Or use them to do greater damage. This all had to be worth something. There were too many casualties as it was.

You were running out of fuel. You’d had to sit down at the bar eventually when the rest of your life started fading. You’d ordered a clean up. A cordoning off of the area. For the agents to link up with the police who were already asking questions. Press had to be silenced. Statements had to be taken. Hope was stabilizing at the hospital, in a room close to Tony’s- who was in and out of consciousness still, you weren’t sure why-

It was dark already. You were tired. And lost. Somebody would find Kilgrave. LUNA and JARVIS were running overtime, feeding his image to each other and spreading out all across the city. Tapping into security cameras, social media posts, even crawling buzzwords for enhanced people-

Yet it all felt useless.

Eventually, in her shame, Jessica sat down next to you- got up, reached over the bar, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, and then sat down again. You didn’t have enough left in you to be tactful anymore. “Why did you do that?” Your voice was quiet and drawn. “Why did you let him get away?” Sure- really it had been you. You let Kilgrave run away. But only on her command.

She was stewing. Eventually anger found its way to her again. “What. You want me to admit I realize the irony of the situation?”

Ah, yes. The irony. That the woman who had blamed you for not killing Kilgrave which then allowed him to hurt more people- somehow that had been your fault. And now, when you’d had the chance this time, she’d gone and let him go. More people would pay the price. In exchange for one life. Again. Yes. That irony.

Her head fell back as she drained the bottle and then put it down on the bar a little too hard. “...is Hope gonna make it?”

Your exasperation bled out of you. “Yes. She will. At what cost?” Finally turning to give her a dead-eyed stare.

“Fuck you. Just because you’re a fucking Avenger you get to say who lives and who dies? Hope deserved more than that-”

“Yet you came at me months ago telling me it was my fault Kilgrave hurt you. And Hope- what did she do that for? Did he make her?” This was going to turn into a firestorm very quickly. The two of you just spitting at each other-

But to your surprise, she turned away from you, wringing her hands atop the bar. “No. She did it on her own.” Her voice had quieted down. You had to wait for her to talk again because you just didn’t want to put it all together anymore. She needed to start doing some of the fucking teamwork. If she even knew the meaning of the word. “Hope wanted me to kill him. But he was holding her hostage. So she tried to get herself out of the way.”

Yeah. Yeah. Of course that’s how it happened. “I could’ve- I could’ve reached out and snapped his neck. I could have shot a hole through him. I could have ended this. And maybe even saved Hope- but you-” Shaking your head, shivering in your seat.

“Yeah. Me. I fucked it all up because I didn’t want her to die. Fucking sue me.” She was writhing internally. So much built up inside her and no place to put it. Her fists slammed down on the bar as her head lowered. “Hope deserves better than this, damn it. She deserved to live. I won’t fucking apologize to you.”

“What about everyone else? What about anyone else he hurts? Do they deserve to live too? Isn’t that what you forced on me when we first met?” It seemed unfair, maybe, to push her when she was at her limit. But so were you. And fuck Jessica Jones.

Maybe fuck you, too. For your involvement in all this. Maybe Jessica had been right. Maybe you’d been right, too. And maybe none of it really mattered. Because Kilgrave was the one who was really responsible for all this. So the two of you could blame each other as long as you lived. But in the end it was meaningless.

It was just so tiring being asked to be the bigger person day in and day out. It was pulling holes inside your heart. And yet even still… you put it aside. As you always did. “What’s he want with his father? I’m guessing the vaccine didn’t work?”

She sniffled, reaching up to wipe the back of her hand across her nose. “How do you know about that?” She was clawing desperately to try and keep it together.

“I ran into Clemons at the facility. And Simpson- who I’m holding on assault charges, by the way. Did you know he was enhanced?” Talking to her but staring blankly straight ahead.

“Enhanced? No- Trish probably doesn’t either- is that really important right now?”

“I guess not. His father, then?”

“No. The fucking vaccine didn’t work. That’s what started this whole mess- and his father-” She shook her head with a sigh of angry disgust. “He’ll probably use him to make some sort of super juice for his powers.”

You found yourself nodding. If his father had been trying to engineer a vaccine, it would make sense that he could also go about it the other way. Make him stronger. That was a very real problem.

It was terrible, the shock that shunted through you when she half turned to look at you and ask, “Is Stark okay?”

And right there you found your limit. Pushing back from the bar, you found your feet in a hard stand. Leveling a steely gaze on her, “You don’t get to ask me that.” What little you had left inside of you carried you out of the bar and into a waiting car.

Because of the delicacy of the situation, and because you knew you were running on borrowed time, you’d called Happy. He asked where you wanted to go- to the hospital, of course- you thought you heard your answer. But just as the car inched off from the sidewalk and pulled onto the road everything went dark.

---

You were in a place of comfort. ...too comfortable, in fact. Curled on your side. Dvahli purring away tucked somewhere close to your stomach. Your hand in Tony’s. He was warm and close and- this was all wrong. Kilgrave was around somewhere and you were- ...not home. You couldn’t be home.

Pulling yourself together you sat up, an ache made itself known in your temples so strong it threatened to put you right back out. But you soldiered through it, because it was clear you’d been unconscious for far too long. When the fog cleared your vision you found yourself in the dim light of Tony’s hospital room. You were asleep aside his bed in a cot. Something Happy must have gotten for you.

It was light outside-? The sun was trying to bleed through the drawn blinds. You struggled to get out of bed. Dvahli made noises of upset as you moved and then replaced herself as she jumped over to Tony’s bed. Tony- who was still asleep. Taking a glance at the clock above the door, you felt a sense of unease reading 2:18PM. Tony definitely should have been awake.

Your entire body ached. Possibly begging you to go lie back down, but you ignored it, partially limping your way to the door until the rest of your muscles could get themselves together. In the hallway you flagged a nurse down. “I need to speak with his primary doctor- whoever’s been giving him meds.”

She nodded. “Sure thing, ma’am.” And then headed off.

Back inside the room you slid into a seat, taking your phone out. You weren’t sure if you were or weren’t surprised that there were several missed calls from Jessica. None from your agents. No pings off JARVIS or LUNA. Kilgrave hadn’t been widely located, but Jessica clearly wanted something from you.

You thought about calling her. You probably should call her- and you would- but the door to the room opened and a doctor with a chart walked in so that got your attention first. “You wanted to speak with me?”

Pulling yourself to a stand you had to figure out how to approach this delicately. “Hi- thanks- my head of security has been telling me that Tony’s been out of it. I feel like he should be up by now- not like walking around but… up.” Tony never stayed in a hospital longer than he had to. Even when you wanted him to. He should still be here, for sure. But this was unlike him. It was wrong.

The doctor made a weird face at you, and you felt a ripple of annoyance come over him, but he glanced back down at the chart and flipped a few pages. “Well… we were given instructions to sedate him. He kept asking to leave and- it was your own words here on file- you wanted him to rest-”

“I wanted him to rest not be incapacitated.” Trying your best not to raise your voice.

“He was also complaining about the pain.” At this you made a face of sheer disbelief. Tony would never. And the doctor eased back on that idea. “Not to our staff- to yours- but your staff then mentioned it to ours-”

“Your staff is my staff. And so what?” Tony must have said something to Happy and Happy must have said something to a nurse. This was out of control. “It doesn’t mean you can just drug him to sleep.”

“Please don’t take offense to this, ma’am. But he’s a difficult patient. This is how we treated patients of his caliber at SHIELD.”

This man was very lucky you’d slept for probably an entire day. Had you been in the state you’d been in when facing Jessica at that bar hours ago, you’d probably have reached out and throttled him. As it was now… “Maybe that’s the way SHIELD dealt with people, but that’s not the way we do things now.”

“Well nobody told me that. If we have different protocols, you should have mentioned it.”

The phone in your hand was ringing. This man probably had no idea how lucky he was. “Back off the meds. That’s all.”

He curbed a roll of his eyes, probably extremely unaware you were wading in his distaste for you. “I’ll make a note of it.” Flipping the chart closed, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

Jessica was calling you again. It was probably more bad news. But you had to find some way to make this all worth something. Maybe she had a tip for you. But when you answered and barely got through a greeting she started yelling, “Where the hell have you been? I need you. I’ve needed you for hours.”

“That’s a first.”

“Real fucking cute.” She was incredibly angry, but at this point you were numb to her feelings. “Luke’s in trouble. You have a super hospital or something, right? Where you took Hope?”

“Luke?” Brain a little slow to chug on the memory of meeting him. Luke Cage. You remembered. “Yeah- why? What trouble?”

“I have him and a nurse in my apartment but she needs more tools. You’re well equipped, can you come get him?”

It was probably your fault. You’d been dead to the world for too long a time. She was asking for your help, you just didn’t know why. “What’s the matter with him that you can’t take him to a regular hospital? I only benched Hope here because-”

“He’s enhanced.”

“Jesus Christ, Jessica. Do you know anybody who’s not enhanced?” It was probably unfair to her, to just let those words tear out of you. But at this point you seriously had to wonder. Where the hell were all these people coming from? And why did she seem to know them all? ...doubly unfair considering… well… you were who you were and knew who you knew.

“Lots. But that’s really not important right now. Are you gonna help or not? Look- I’m just as tired of this shit as you are. You have no idea what I’ve been through in the past day.”

You supposed that was probably true. Something terrible had to have happened if she had gone to Luke and now Luke was apparently critically injured… “I’ll send a team to pick him up. Come with them. We’ll compare notes.” Even though you had nothing. But she’d been working on something. Clearly. Chasing Kilgrave- for him to lash out like that…

“Yeah. Okay.”

Her call clipped out as another one came in. And truly and honestly, you wanted to be done with surprises for the rest of your life. Bruce calling your name shook a tremor through you. “Hey- this stuff you sent through the labs- these pills?”

“Nice to talk to you too, Bruce.”

“Sorry- it is nice to hear you. Tony’s been quiet. Can’t imagine things have been easy over there. We’ve all been kind of worried. Then this stuff shows up on our reports?”

You sat down again, for lack of energy. “You know something about it? Those pills were on a guy who attacked some of our Damage Control staff…”

“They’re combat enhancers. Our good friend General Ross had files on files about this stuff, back when…” Back when Bruce mistakenly thought he was doing good work for the man. “It doesn’t matter. This stuff was shut down a while back. I was surprised to see it suddenly.” There was an uneasy pause before he worked up the courage to ask, “What the hell is going on over there?”

“I don’t think it’s related, honestly.” Which made it all the more maddening. This was just noise. It had nothing to do with Kilgrave. “If you know about where we might find those files, send them my way. It’s not important right now but… I imagine it will be. At some point. And… thanks for picking that up for me.” He’d just gotten a hit on a lab computer and went straight to work without you asking him. God you missed your family. You wanted them home.

“Yeah. Alright.” He must have been feeling the same way, because the next thing out of his mouth after some silence, “I noticed you uh… didn’t answer me. ...can you at least let me know- are we close to this being over?”

You put your hand over your face. He couldn’t see you. But it felt right to hide your suddenly overwhelming sadness. “I hope so.” But you had to do better than that. “I think so. I’m sorry. I’m trying. Just… give me a little more time.”

“I know you’re working your hardest. Nobody is blaming you. We’re just worried about you and Tony. That’s all.”

“It’ll be done soon. Thanks for worrying about us.”

“Don’t thank me. Just… I’ll work on this for you. And you let me know if there’s something else I can do. Okay?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

You imagined he wasn’t alone. He wanted to help. They probably all did. But you’d put them so far away. So that they could stay safe. This had to be over. You had to end this. For them. For everyone.

---

It took a little too long to get a team down to Jessica’s apartment, bring Luke and her little squad over to the hospital and get everyone settled. You had them station him as far away from Tony’s room as you could, and put Happy on security detail for Tony’s door. These people were not allowed anywhere near him- especially considering the messy state things were in. Tony needed to sleep off those meds. And you still had to decide if you were firing that doctor.

Luke was just short of being in a critical state- at least that was your guess what with all the nurses and doctors moving in and out of his room once he was there. While you paid all these people and had several times now declared this official Avengers business, that didn’t mean they could violate HIPAA for you. ...at least you hadn’t asked them to, yet. You couldn’t help but wonder what way Luke was enhanced that made him a handful for a normal hospital.

Once the dust had settled, Jessica met you outside in the hallway. The sun was going down. “He gonna be okay?” You at least had to ask. She seemed to care a great deal for Luke. He was important to her. That was worth something.

...maybe this made you a little bit of a monster, the way you’d reacted when she’d asked you about Tony.

“You have better tools here. The nurse thinks he’ll make it.” She crossed her arms, looking around.

“Our nurse or the one you brought? Who is she?”

“Her name is Claire Temple. Apparently you have a friend in common.” Offering this information easily, for some reason. You had no idea what. And were absolutely too tired to ask her to expand on it. The web was growing wider. All these encompassing yet unimportant little points kept popping up.

If it didn’t stop soon you were pretty sure you’d go insane. “Doctor Banner is running some tests on those pills Simpson had on him. He’s seen them before, but I told him it’s unrelated.”

“Great. So you’ve got nothing. That’s what you’re saying?” When you just stared at her, she shook her head. “It’s fine. We’re close to finishing this.” Reaching into her jacket pocket she pulled a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to you. “That’s where Kilgrave is with his father. Right now.”

The address on it was somewhere you didn’t recognize- definitely in a highrise somewhere, though. “How do you know?”

“He called Luke from this guy’s cell phone. Justin Boden. I ran a check on it. He’s probably holed up there. Waiting.” She seemed so very sure about this.

But this couldn’t be rushed or handled poorly. This was obvious. “He knew you’d figure it out. This seems like a trap.”

“Well it’s all I’ve fucking got and you’ve got nothing, so what else are we supposed to do?” Again she really was asking you for a better plan. And again you had… well. Nothing. As she said.

“I’ll go there myself.”

“Fuck you.”

It was almost exactly like a physical slap across the face. You struggled to not retaliate or react to it as such. “Then what do you want to do, Jessica?” Clearly you had no say in the matter.

Her eyes locked on to yours. “We go there. Together. And we end this. No matter what.”

There were a lot of caveats she was asking you to overlook. Holes she wanted you to ignore. No matter what held such a big significance. It meant promising to throw everything to the wind to justify this one end. Your death? Hers? Countless others? Could you agree to do the right thing here no matter what?

Yes. Yes you could.

You held out your hand for her to shake on it. “No matter what.”

This had to stop. Now. And whatever it took to make it stop… that’s what the two of you would do.

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter One Hundred Forty Five #Jessica Jones Spoilers

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crue-sixx · 5 years

Text

Drowning

Title: Drowning

Fandom: The Dirt

Summary: The reader is the adoptive daughter of Nikki Sixx, and after a solo outing with his mother, she starts to have feelings that she doesn't belong.

Warnings: Swearing, Nikki's mom being a cunt, suicide attempt. If any of these are a sensitive subject, please don't read.

You were twelve when Nikki Sixx adopted you from an English orphanage. You knew your birth parents were dead-your father having died in a car accident in Redondo Beach before you were born and your mother died having given birth to you. Neither biological family wanted you, so you became a ward of the state. You had potential adoptive parents, but after the head of the orphanage told them about your parents, they were automatically turned off and adopted another kid instead. For twelve long years, you were passed by when a rather scary looking man came and asked for you specifically.

He was with three other men, one of which was a blonde who turned away at the very sight of you. The other three stared in awe as they took you in,, the tallest saying "She looks just like Razzle!" he was excited and continued "Just look at those dimples! "

You were confused more than anything, the head asking Nikki if he was sure he wanted to adopt you, as if he were merely looking for a new puppy to bring home to the kids. "Yes, I'm sure. I already did all the fucking paperwork and submitted it months ago!"

You were unused to cussing, the prim and proper orphanage having stressed the importance of being ladies and gentlemen. You took things in stride and you were told to gather your belongings, that you were moving to L.A. with your new family. You were so excited that you were going to a family. Of course they'd have to foster you for a while before the adoption would be official to see if they were a good fit for you, but Nikki seemed to be so excited about the whole thing. Of course he'd consulted his wife and other kids first and they all agreed to have you.

The first few weeks were a wonderland to you, playmates that wouldn't try to take your things and adults that didn't yell at your for the slightest misgivings. You had your own room and school was an absolute dream. You life had become just that-a beautiful dream.

It was on a Sunday that dream came to an end when Nikki's mother Deanna wanted to take you out for ice cream, and only you. Nikki was reluctant at first, but your enthusiasm was what convinced him to let you go. She started out sweet as pie, but when you sat down after getting your treat she turned into a viper. "You know he's not your real dad right?"

"I'm 12" you answered sarcastically "I've lived in an English orphanage. I know my biological parents are dead" you couldn't understand why she felt so threatened by you.

"I mean" she she said "That you're talking up Nikki and his wife's time from his real kids. You should just go away" she offered. You couldn't defend yourself after that, even though most of the time Nikki and his wife had spent with you were with your foster siblings, you'd thought of them as your brothers and sisters all the same.

She looked you square in the eye, her taking your chin gently in between her pointer finger and thumb "I know all about you. Your father dying because my son's lush singer crashed his car and you killing the very woman who gave you life... they died so they wouldn't have to be around you..." her tone then assumed a deathly low vibration "It's a sin for you to want to live...just get it over with so they can go back to their normal lives. They'd be so much better without you in it..."

You weren't hungry anymore, you just letting your ice cream melt. You didn't know if you should cry or not, tell Nikki all the vile things his mother said to you, but you thought that would unnecessarily burden the family. But Deanna's words stuck with you, effecting your schoolwork and relationships. Nikki noticed something and asked "Hey, you okay kiddo? You seem down lately..."

"I'm fine, Nikki" you said, trying to hide the pain in your voice. He had never pressured you to call him or his wife Mom or Dad, he encouraged you to find out more about your biological father Razzle Dingley and your mother.

"That doesn't sound too convincing, Y/N" he put an arm around you "If something's wrong you gotta tell me so I can help you. It's okay to feel sad."

"I said I'm fine" you replied, this time with a little more annoyed tone. He reluctantly backed off, and the next few weeks Deanna would take all the kids, including you on outings but wouldn't acknowledge you in any way. She explained to the Nikki's other kids that you were being punished and not to even look at you much less talk to you.

The kids, not knowing better did as they were told even when she wasn't around. This sent you even lower than you imagined you could ever get-this was worse than the orphanage. At least there you were noticed. You started thinking that Deanna was right. So after the last outing, you made up your mind-you raided the medicine and liquor cabinets and found a big bottle of Tylenol and vodka.

You stared at the pills in your hand, about half the bottle contemplating what would happen. You just said "Fuck it" to yourself and popped the handful and chased it with a swig of vodka. Soon, you felt sleepy and dozed off into a sleep you hoped to never wake up from.

The next day was a school day, and all the kids were ready except Y/N. When Nikki noticed you weren't with the rest of them, he asked "Where's Y.N?"

His son answered "She's still sleepin'. We tried to wake her up but she's snoozin' away and smells funny" Nikki sighed and told his kids to stay there while he got you up.

"Y/N, time for school!" he announced in a cheery voice, but the smell of vodka hit him. He recoiled, your room smelling like a distillery. It was then he noticed the half empty pill bottle on the floor next to your bed. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize what was going on. "Shit!" he shook you and slapped your face to rouse you.

You answered a slurry "Wut?"

"How many of these did you take?" he was trying to remain calm, but his voice was shaking as well as his whole body.

"Half bottle..." you answered before trying to go back to sleep. Nikki was on the phone with paramedics at this point. He was advised to keep you awake and if possible induce vomiting. His wife was worried sick with the rest of the kids, who were now all crying at the sudden loud noises. He went with you to the hospital in the ambulance and stayed right next to you.

When they pumped your stomach (they had to insert a tube down your throat because you had lost consciousness and couldn't vomit normally) and you had remained stable, you felt Nikki's hand clench yours "Why Y/N" your eyes fluttered open and saw he was crying. "Why'd you try to kill yourself?"

"Your mother said that it'd be better if I wasn't here..." you came clean, tired of feeling sad simply for existing.

His face changed from sorrow to rage "When?" he quietly demanded.

"The first time she asked you to let me go with her alone. She said my biological parents died because they didn't want to be around me..."

Nikki bit his lip so hard a trickle of blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. "You listen to me, Y/N...that woman is a bitter old bitch who isn't happy unless others are miserable. Your parents loved you. Razzle and Hilda wouldn't shut the fuck up about being parents. They wanted you, to see you grow and become a whole person..."

You too were now sobbing at this revelation, he held you tight to him, telling him how Deanna told the other kids to ignore you and how you were always left in the car when she took you and the kids out. He had called Tommy earlier so he could come sit with you while Nikki saw to his other kids and to update them on your condition. He had knocked on the door and Nikki gave him a quick rundown and stated he needed to make a phone call.

"Hey Y/N!" he tried to sound in a good mood, but you weren't biting.

Instead you asked "What was my dad like?"

The question caught him off guard and he said "He liked to party and was super cool. Your mom was more reserved and quiet, but they complimented each other perfectly. She was from a well to do family, but they didn't like Razzle one bit. They even disowned her once they found out she was pregnant. But they didn't care, all they had were each other and that's all they needed" he thought of his next words carefully. "When the accident with Vince happened, Hilda was inconsolable. She went overseas to have you and we were all told that you had died with her. About a year before Nikki adopted you, we found you were alive in England" he held your hand.

"You...actually looked for me? Why?"

"Guilt, maybe" he looked at you "We don't know...Vince still can't look at you without thinking about Razzle...it's nothing you did..."

You looked up at him and asked "Can you teach me to play drums? Like my father?"

"We have different styles of playing but I bet I can get his old band to let you beat his drum set!" he smiled for real at the prospect "I'll teach you the basics and you can make your own style!"

You agreed to his terms and shook on it. In a few hours, your brothers and sisters piled in and snuggled up to you on the bed, apologizing for ignoring you and pleading with you not to hurt yourself again. You promised and returned their snuggles, Nikki's wife patting your hair affectionately.

Nikki came in finally and said "It's time to go home, everyone" you had been discharged on the condition that you had to see a therapist twice a week. Soon you were able to take it down to once a week and then you didn't have to go at all. Deanna had come calling again, but Nikki shut her down.

"You will never see my children again" he growled "You will never talk to me, my wife, or my kids ever" he slammed the door in her face and called the cops to have her forcefully removed. You hid behind the corner out of sight when you saw her face in the window, after he had dispatched his mother he hugged you tightly "You never have to see her again, you hear?"

"Yes, Daddy" you looked up at him. He had earned that title the day he showed you he actually cared. He looked down at you and smiled through his tears. You still kept your last name as Dingley, but you considered Nikki Sixx your father, his wife your mother and their children as their siblings, never questioning their love for you ever again.

#motley crue #mötley crüe #the dirt #nikki sixx #tommy lee #vince neil #mick mars #motley crue imagine #mötley crüe imagine #nikki sixx imagine #motley crue fanfiction #mötley crüe fanfiction #nikki sixx fanfiction #not mine #submitted #submission

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kessielrg · 4 years

Text

[Daybreak Academy][KH AU] Hospital Beds

Summary: In which Skuld fades in and out of consciousness in the aftermath of her overdose (chapter 37 of Daybreak Academy). [oneshot][spoilers for @daybreak-academy-fanfic, obviously]

Rating: K+

Word count: 2,220 words

Skuld had only passed out on one other occasion in her life. It was the 2011 Departure County Regional Lux Pageant: Junior Division. It was the last major competition before going to state, so -of course- it was a very big deal. The whole situation could have been avoided if she, or her parents, had been paying enough attention that day. Ultimately, it was ruled that Skuld had been dehydrated and the incident was never brought up again.

But that was when something in Skuld changed. Her parents all but glossing it over and working on the next pageant nearly made her pop a blood vessel. After that incident, Skuld refused to attend any more pageants so long as she had a body to live in. No more lights, no more angry moms when their kid didn't win a crown, no more stage cues from hosts that didn't even pretend to care; none of it. Skuld was done.

When she received her letter of acceptance from Daybreak Academy, Skuld gave her parents an ultimatum: if she went to Daybreak, then she wouldn't attend any more pageants. It had to be one or the other. Of course her parents let her go to Daybreak- having a prestigious school listed as your alma mater looked far better on a resume than how many useless gold crowns you've won. For that, she was thankful her parents had some sort of common sense.

They say, when your brain realizes that it's about to die, your whole life flashes before your eyes. When Skuld could feel her whole body shut down on her, the rest of her life up until then didn't even matter. Back then (and right now) her only thought was 'what if no one finds me?' That thought was infinitely more terrifying when she was in her own private dorm and not about to be shuffled on stage in front of a crowded audience.

Skuld had no idea how long she had been out. Her mind took what seemed to be years before realizing that she was in a hospital room. A slow glance toward the window indicated that it was sometime during the day. Wasn't it after sunset when she passed out? The memories were fuzzy at best, and a good part of it still seemed fragmented as she tried to piece together what had actually happened.

But thinking took up too much brain power that she didn't quite have back yet. What with the 'hard reboot' and all of waking up without intentionally making your body shut down. She didn't even bother to know if her parents were even aware she was in the hospital right now. She had listed Headmaster Ava as her emergency contact for so long, she had memorized that number far better than her own parents'. Skuld let out a soft sigh as she let her body succumb back into a black abyss of nothing. Maybe she'll feel a bit better later on.

Hopefully.

. . .

“I should have known the moment she came to callbacks alone.”

Skuld knew the voice but couldn't bring herself to open her eyes to be sure. It took a lot more effort than she had to even give the slightest of peeks. Her glimpse was short, but it confirmed her suspicions. In the hospital room with her was Ms. April. With Ms. April was Headmaster Aced, awkwardly trying to navigate the hospital room with a small vase of get well soon flowers in his hands.

“You never would have guessed too.” Aced calmly noted, setting the vase of flowers on the bedside table. “Everything was kept on track, she dropped off notes about what needed attention then she'd send another note saying she found a solution...”

“That's not the point, Aced.” Ms. April snapped. “She's still child. There was no reason for her to have such a heavy workload without any of us noticing. I should have noticed. Ava- Ava should have noticed!”

“Ava?” Aced repeated. A quick look of confusion crossing his features. “What does Ava have to do with this? Gula is the Leopardus headmaster.”

“That stupid student council she started!” April declared. “Don't tell me you're not aware of it!”

“Of course I was aware, all of us knew...”

“And did any of you know that the five students she cherry-picked had trouble adjusting?” the short teacher snapped back. “Skuld wasn't the only one. And the fact that you don't even know that-!”

“It's not like any of them were from my house.” Aced argued. “I'm not the one who would have noticed even if I could!”

A dark silence immediately filled the room the moment he said those words. Ms. April was fuming.

“April...” the youngest of the two tried to say in a timid voice. “I...”

But Ms. April wasn't going to listen to him. Instead, she turned on her heel and immediately headed toward the door. Fear was quick to reach Aced's features as he went after her.

“April!” he even feebly tried to call. “April I didn't mean…! April!”

Skuld could hear the door shut when they both left. The tense air still lingered in the room, and it made her feel incredibly awful in its aftermath.

No, Skuld dully thought, Don't leave. It wasn't anyone's fault.

But she could feel herself drift off again. In seeing no use of fighting it, Skuld relaxed her body and went back to sleep.

. . .

Third time's the charm, as they say, and this time around Skuld felt much better. Or better enough that she could actually maneuver her body to reach for the call button. It still took a lot of effort, though, and she immediately flopped back down on the hospital bed in exhaustion.

“Skuld?”

Skuld blinked as she looked to who had said her name. To the right of the bed was Ava and Gula. They looked like they had placed another small vase of flowers by her bed and were completely surprised to see her awake. The teen tried to give them a smile of acknowledgment, but it came out as a momentary twitch instead.

“We should get the nurse.” Ava gently whispered to Gula, placing a hand on his elbow.

“I did.” Skuld slurred as she gestured to the call button- it was an attempt to pick it up and show it to the Vulpes headmaster, but it was a futile effort at best.

“How you doing kiddo?” Gula then asked, casually sitting at the end of Skuld's bed as if it weren't a big deal. He even gave her foot a playful pat before adding, “Enjoy your nap?”

“Gula!” Ava admonished before giving him a whack on the shoulder.

Gula only shrugged while giving a playful laugh. “Honest question.” he casually proclaimed. Skuld looked between the two of them like she had never seen them before. Maybe a part of her thought she didn't.

“My head is… numb?” she admitted in a slow drawl. “Still so tired...”

“Do you remember what happened?” Gula asked. His smiling face diminishing quite a bit to something more serious. Skuld raised an eyebrow before looking down at her hands. That was an idea she hadn't really considered until now. Her face scrunched as she tried to recollect her memories.

“I sent an email...” came the slow answer. “I got up and things were… wrong. Someone was at my door? Anna? Nora…?”

“Anora.” Gula corrected her. His tone was a bit darker than before now too. “Anora had come to your dorm just as you fainted. She called the ambulance for you.”

“Right… Anora...”

A small silence fell between the three of them as Skuld tried to further recollect her memories. She knew who Anora was, right? Skuld reclined a bit and in a brief flash when she closed her eyes, she could see a pink haired girl who very seldom talked and was currently the object of attention from…

“Ephemer.” Skuld wondered out loud as she looked back at Ava and Gula. “Is he with you?”

“Ephemer will be coming by later.” Ava told her. “He needed a little more time to… to process what had happened.”

“Idiot thinks its his fault.” Skuld huffed. She noticed her mental flub a moment too late, but didn't bother to correct herself. Gula laughed at it, though.

“Nice to know your sense of humor is still in tact.” he teasingly mused. It earned him another hard smack on the shoulder and Ava saying his name in a very disapproving manner. This time, Skuld did manage to smile, but it was still half formed and looked rather lopsided. Still, the attempt had been made, and only seeing it out of the corner of their eye made both Gula and Ava relax a bit more.

The soft moment was only interrupted by the nurse finally coming into the room. Ava and Gula excused themselves not long after, allowing the nurse to have more room to do her work. After some time the nurse called in the doctor for further tests. The doctor assigned to Skuld's case arrived about ten minutes after that. Not that Skuld was complaining when she saw him- he was super cute.

“How are you feeling, Miss Niyati?” the doctor asked her as he looked up from his clipboard of notes on her condition. He hit her with a million watt smile that nearly made Skuld's blood pressure spike.

Despite this, she gave him the automatic reply of “Dead.” without any thought put into it. The doctor laughed at this.

“Well, these charts say otherwise.” he humored her. “But that's just a sign you're still living, isn't it? Do you feel any pain, or a bit woozy?”

Skuld gave a small half shrug at first. “I think I have a delay. Words don't sound… good.”

The doctor once more gave her a kind smile before assuring her that such things were natural after an unexpected nap time. He went on to explain a lot more about how she had gotten there. Apparently she had taken too much acetaminophen and her body had shut down before any major damage could be done. The doctor told her that she was lucky to have gotten to the hospital as quickly as she did. Who knows how long she would have been out -let alone if she could even be woken- had her friend (Anora?) not contacted first responders right away.

It took some more time for them to run through some basic response tests before the doctor decided that she was good for now.

“I'll have a nurse come by so we can get your body weight before we do an MRI. With all luck Miss Niyati, you'll be out of here in no time.”

“Good.” Skuld replied with a small sigh. She was starting to feel a lot like herself again, and the idea of being in a hospital any longer than she needed to was starting to bug her.

“By the way,” the doctor said, almost as if he had forgotten something important. “Your friend, the one that came with you, she's still sitting outside. Would you like me to tell her that she can come in and sit with you?”

Skuld paused for a moment, looking up at the doctor like she had no idea what he was saying. But then it hit her; it must have been Anora. Right? Gula had said that Anora had called the ambulance, but he didn't say if she had come to the hospital as well. Ephemer had yet to show up, so maybe she was keeping watch for him?

The young woman carefully shook her head at the doctor. “She's waiting for someone.” she told him. He gave her an affirmative nod in agreement.

“Well, if that's all,” he said to her, “Then I'll be on my way. Remember, I'll have a nurse coming by for you later so be on the look out and try not to go to sleep again. Alright?”

At Skuld's agreeing nod, the doctor gave her one last brilliant smile before making his leave. Once the door closed, Skuld let out a long sigh as she relaxed against the hospital bed. Her head lulled over to the side so she could look at the small assortment of get well soon cards and flowers her bedside table had accumulated. When the nurse had helped her, Skuld had convinced them to read a few cards to her. They were all nice gestures- some of them were littered with apologizes about the school play.

But that was a subject for a different time.

Skuld's thoughts were interrupted when she heard the door to her hospital room open and close. She looked up to see Ephemer and Anora. Ephemer looked like a wreck- his eyes were bloodshot from crying, his clothes were put on rather haphazardly, and his hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in weeks. Anora, standing a little behind him, was nothing more than a shrinking wallflower that didn't want to get in the way between the old friends. Seeing them was almost a relief.

Skuld tried to give them her best smile before fondly remarking, “There you are. I was wondering how long it was gonna take for you to show up.”

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currahee-gal · 5 years

Note

Hey can I request a fluffy Luz being best friends with reader like during the war and they start to catch the feels for each other and just like super fluffy friends to lovers type thing

LUZ?? FRIENDS TO LOVERS?? FLUFF?? UM YES ABSOLUTLY!! Sorry this was so much later than I wanted it to be but I personally loved writing this one. Hope you like it!

You Misheard Me

Pairing: George Luz x Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, MORE FLUFF, Lipton being a bit of a cock block in the most innocent way, George being his silly George self, and you guessed it MORE FLUFF

Word count: 1,820 (these keep getting longer, I have no self control)

A/N: I forgot to put this on the first two fics but these stories are solely based on the actors from the Band of Brothers series, not on the actual heroes

L/N = last name

Carwood Lipton didn’t need to open his weary eyes to know who was laughing. He was resting in his foxhole when he heard it. Heaving a sigh, he crawled out of his foxhole in the pitch dark and made his way two foxholes down. The snow was crunching under his boots as he approached the snow covered tarp that covered hole that housed some giggling paratroopers. Lip bends down and flips open the tarp.

“Luz. L/N. Sound discipline. You know the drill.”

You and George looked up with guilty expressions, your smiles quickly falling from your faces. If you were to ask Lip, he would say that you guys looked like two kids caught out of bed by their parents with their hands deep in the cookie jar. Here you two sat, one of you on each side of the foxhole, sharing one blanket. In the center of the blanket was a deck of cards, along with a couple of unlit cigarettes and a lighter. He almost would have smiled at the scene if it wasn’t so late and if he wasn’t so exhausted.

“Sorry Lip, we’ll be quiet.” George nods solemnly, pouting out his lower lip. You tried to your laugh, covering it with a cough.

“Yes Lip, we’re sorry. We’ll pipe down real quick.” You nodded along, bringing your index finger to your lips before letting out a soft “shhh”.

“I better not hear you two for the rest of the night.” Lipton scolds.

“Oh no, you don’t have to worry about us, Lip. We won’t make a sound. After all, as the legendary George Luz once said, ‘flies spread disea-’ ow!” George cuts you off with a swift but gentle kick to your thigh with the tip of his boot.

“We’ll be quiet, Lip.”

“Alright, good night you two.” Lip nods and waves, closing the flap.

You and George exchanged a look and you both almost burst out laughing again.

“Shhh!” George whispers, pressing his index finger to your smiling lips. “We can’t let Sergeant Lipton know that we’re having fun. The consequences would be unspeakable!”

“He is right though,” you gathered your card in your hands and examined them. You had a 2, 5, 10, a king, and an ace. “We were being a bit loud. And it is sound discipline. And it’s-” You check your watch. “0100.”

“And we were in the middle of a game before we were so very rudely interrupted. Got any queens?” George quirked an eyebrow, making you giggle. You shook your head.

“Go fish. Got any kings?”

“You’re looking right at one, baby.” He deepens his voice and winks as he hands you a card. You smile and snatch the card from him, putting your pair of kings down on your lap.

“Got any aces?”

“Y/N?”

“Yes, George?”

“I’m bored. Let’s play a different game.”

“Aren’t you tired?” You placed your cards in your lap.

“A little.” He shrugged, mirroring your actions. “Are you?”

“A little.” You yawned as you reach for a cigarette and the lighter. As you raise the lighter to your cigarette trapped between your chapped lips, your hands tremble from the cold. So much that you almost drop the lighter, but after a couple fumbles, it’s still in your hand. “Shit!” you muttered in frustration, flipping the lid closed.

“Cold?” George teased. You glared at him before he reaches across the two of you. You can feel his legs shift under the blanket, his legs entwined with yours. “Here, let me.” He takes the lighter from your hands, ignites the flame and lights your cigarette. The flame flickering from the lighter illuminates the dark hole for a moment, lighting up Georges features before he snuffs out the flame.You let out a puff of smoke and sigh.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t be.” He shrugs before holding out his hand and grins. “Not until you give me a puff.”

You scoff and you hand him the cigarette. He places it between his lips and takes a deep inhale as you start to put the cards and spare cigarettes away.

“George?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“I’m cold.”

“So’s everyone else, what makes you special?” He tone would have been harsher if the obvious smile on his face didn’t give it away.

“I’m the George Luz’s best friend, that’s what.” You smirk.

“Hmm, I guess that makes you sorta special.” He hums in thought. After a moment, he opens his arm for you to crawl under. You rest your head on his chest and his right arm drapes over you, holding you close. Luz pulls the blanket up to your chin

“Cigarette?” He offers. You nod and take the stick from him. As you take a breath in, you feel the smoke warm you up a little. You hum delight. “Are you nice and comfy now?” He asks as he takes the cigarette back when your done. He swiftly puts it out in the dirt, a soft sizzling sound lingers in the air.

“Mhmm.” You hum, closing your eyes. When your consciousness starts to drift, so do your thoughts.

You felt kind of bad for how you ended up in George’s foxhole. You originally were bunked with Babe and Guarnere on the other side of the field, but those two boys snore so damn loud, you couldn’t stand it. It was borderline too much and wanted to wake them up because of the sound discipline, but before you knew it, you were already walking over to George’s foxhole. You felt guilty about going over to his foxhole so late at night, but what were you supposed to do? Find Liebgott’s fox hole? The bastard would be cocky all week. You would feel even worse if you went to go find Roe. You knew he had room but the man hasn’t slept in weeks. Every other hole was filled, except George’s. Plus, it helped that you two had been pretty good friends since Toccoa, and that you had the biggest crush on him too, but he didn’t need to know that. As cheesy as it sounded, he made you see the light at the end of this war filled tunnel with all his stupid jokes.

He was half asleep when you came but he seemed happy to see you despite it being the dead of night. You explained your situation and he was more than happy to share his foxhole. You were planning on just going to sleep, but you were wide awake and so was George. So, in trying to fall asleep, you tried to talk each other to sleep. When that just ended with giggles, you tried cards. That was just more laughter and George’s ridiculous jokes. One laugh got a little too loud, and Lip had to come and yell at you guys. Well, it wasn’t yelling. More of a scolding. Is Carwood Lipton capable of such emotions that lead to yelling and fighting. What’s his breaking point? Does it exist? Is his amount of patience infinite?

“Y/N?”

“…George?”

“Are you still awake?”

“No, I’m sleeping. I’m fast asleep. That’s why I’m speaking to you right now. I am dead asleep.” You mutter into his chest, snuggling closer and wrapping your arms around his waist. You feel him tense up a little, but he relaxes and starts tracing shapes on your back.

“‘S a shame. I wanted to tell you something. But if your asleep, then-”

“No no no no, please. What is it, Georgie?” You whine, turning your head to look up at him through tired eyes.

“Georgie? Wow, you must be really tired if you’re calling me that.” he chuckles, the vibrations reverberating through his chest.

“What? You don’t like that nickname?” You smile tiredly, starting to play with the buttons on his coat.

“No, I love you!” he laughs.

“You love me?” your voice drops to barely above a whisper.

“What?”

Both of pairs of eyes grow wide as a silence fills the small foxhole.

“I-I didn’t say that.” He sputtered

“Yes you did.” You nod, leaning back slightly.

“No I didn’t.”

“You just did.”

“When?”

“Just now. You just said it.”

“No! No, you misheard me. I said it. I love it! The nickname, I love it. Georgie, I love…it.” George falters and, even in the dark, you can see that George is blushing ten different shades of red. He let out a sigh.

“Alright. Yeah, I said I love you. I do, I wish you didn’t have to find out this way. I had a whole plan!” he put his hands in his face and groaned. “I was gonna ask you out after all of this was over. I was gonna take you back to the states, back to Massachusetts. Well, first I’d go back home with you and ask you father if I can escort you on a date. Hopefully I get a yes. But then I’d take you back to Massachusetts. I was gonna take you to my favorite diner for burgers and then we’d go see a film. Maybe You Were Never Lovelier, do you like that film? Is that still even in theaters? Maybe we go dancing if the film doesn’t work out. I may not look it but I sure can cut a rug. Then I’d take you to my folks house. You’d meet my mom and dad, all my brothers and sisters, they’d all love you by the way. Especially Ma, she’d adore you. Who wouldn’t, you’re absolutely wonderful and beautiful and-”

You cut him off by pressing a kiss to his lips. He almost immediately responded, his hands flying to cup your cheeks, making sure you didn’t go anywhere. Your hands rested against his chest, as you were practically on top of him. When you pulled away, your noses were still brushing against each other.

“That’s one way to shut me up.” He smiled.

“I love you, too. Ever since Toccoa.” You kissed the corner of his mouth. You lie your head down on his chest again and bring the blanket back up your body. “And all of that sounds wonderful.”

“So,” he pulls you closer to him, resting his chin on your head. “Whatta ya say? Wanna come back home with me?”

“As long as I’m with you, George, I’m home.” you whisper, leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw.

“Really?” He beaming down at you.

“I mean it. I love you, George.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

You start to doze off, a smile on your face. For the first time since the war started, you see the end. You can feel it, it’s close. You know it. You’re just about to fall asleep when-

“Y/N.”

“Yes, George?”

“Did you cheat at blackjack earlier? ‘Cause looking back on it-”

“Go to sleep, Luz.”

“Alright, sweetums. Sleep well.” He whispers as he kisses the top of your head.

#request #george luz #george luz imagine #band of brothers #band of brothers imagine #bob #bob imagine #imagine #luz imagine #luz

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honestandsincere · 5 years

Text

when the party’s over pt.2

“But the thing is, he’s like objectively gorgeous. He’s not even hot, he’s beautiful.” “I get it.” “I’ve spoken to like four different girls across campus and all of them think he’s perfect.” “That’s interesting.” “I think I might be in love. That’s not even an exaggeration, it’s- y/n? Are you listening?”

Y/n looks up from her bowl of now soggy cereal and gives her friend a tight-lipped smile, “Sorry, Cass. I am paying attention. Promise.” Cassie tucks a strand of auburn hair behind her pierced ear and crosses her arms against the table, the way she does whenever she feels inclined to stage an intervention, “You’re not, you’ve been infatuated with your cornflakes for the past twenty minutes. You’re not good.” “I’m fine.” “And I’m going to get a first in my degree. Stop lying, y/n! You’ve been a hermit for the past week. Talk to me.”

Y/n sighs and runs a hand through her hair. Cassie is annoyingly astute. It’s a Thursday morning and they’ve got the apartment to themselves. Ethan has an early morning lecture and Grayson is on the other side of town at lacrosse training.

“I don’t know what to say.” she shrugs. “Is it something I’ve done?” Cassie asks, her eyebrows furrowed in deep concern. “Jesus, of course not, Cass!” “Oh thank God!” she laughs in relief, placing her hand over y/n’s that’s cradling her spoon, “The last thing I want to do is fall out with you.” “I know me too.” y/n smiles. “So what’s up?” Y/n grimaces and Cassie notices the way her eyes drift upwards to wander around the kitchen and avoid contact with hers, “I haven’t been sleeping well recently.”

The penny drops for Cassandra Young as she finally puts two and two together. She fights the pleased smirk that dances across her lips. She’s hit the jackpot. Cassie is acutely aware of Grayson’s little habit of accumulating female companions and then sending them home after maybe half an hour of sitting next to each other on his bed. She’d stumbled into a girl who was leaving their apartment as she was walking in, alcohol’s effects wearing off and her eye makeup smeared halfway down her cheeks. This girl, Lauren if Cassie can remember correctly, had explained that Grayson had brought her home but had decided he was too tired for anything more than talking about what football team they each support. Cassie was baffled, to say the least when she’d met Lauren, not expecting to see anyone awake at four thirty in the morning. She was even more taken aback by the concept of Grayson Dolan bringing girls back to their apartment. Cassie is not ignorant or deluded or oblivious, she knows the way Grayson feels about y/n based on what she would deem empirical evidence. This notion of him trying to prove some kind of point makes her want to knock some sense into him. It’s a typical boy thing really, the whole jealousy card.

“Let me guess, it’s because of Gray.” “Well, yeah that’s partly to blame.” y/n flushes, not expecting Cassie to be so observant, “You’ve noticed it too?” “Noticed what?” “The girls, Cass. Every single weekend he’s got someone new in his bed, and not that there’s anything wrong with that, I just wish they weren’t so loud!” she’s getting more worked up by the second and Cassie has to hide her amusement. “Oh my God, you’ve heard them doing it?” she knows full well that there’s no way y/n could’ve heard something that wasn’t actually going on, but Cassie can’t wait until her friend finally admits that this is irritating her. “No! I’ve always fallen asleep by then or I’ve got a podcast playing or something.” Y/n doesn’t want to admit that Grayson having female company irks her beyond her own belief, because admitting it aloud would make it that much more real. Suppressed feelings are dangerous enough as it is, having an external source acknowledging the emotions is essentially a recipe for emotional armageddon. She can sense that maybe Cassie has an inkling because Cassie can read people the way a middle-aged woman devours the horoscope page of a trashy magazine; with intense analysis. But simply stating that you’re jealous of the girls your best friend brings home is laughably harder than it sounds. So y/n consciously changes conversation topic back to Cassie’s beautiful stranger in her Economics seminar, reveling in the way her best friend’s eyes widen with excitement. They’re stood at the sink when Cassie’s mouth works faster than her mind and decides to drop the bombshell, “You do know that he doesn’t actually sleep with them, right?” Y/n, having forced her mind to stray far away from Grayson Dolan, doesn’t quite understand, “What?” Cassie dries her sudsy hands on the back of her jeans and turns to look at y/n who’s leaning on the kitchen counter, “Grayson hasn’t had sex with any of the girls he’s brought home. He doesn’t sleep with them at all. They all end up leaving after like an hour of him being all awkward because he doesn’t know how to tell them he’s not into it.”

This revelation hangs in the air above the girls, like flecks of dust that haven’t yet settled. Y/n is processing what Cassie has said, the words all making perfect sense yet being completely incomprehensible. Grayson Dolan has sex, he must do. She can’t fathom a universe in which the boy wouldn’t get any. She’s heard him talking to girls in his bed. She knows they must do stuff. Cassie watches as incredulity washes over y/n’s blushing features. Bingo. “Where did you get that idea from?” she stammers. “I’ve bumped into some of them leaving, they’re all super sweet. I’ve heard them too, I’ll be going to the kitchen to get water or something and he’s talking about getting them an Uber.” “Oh.” Cassie breaks into laughter, the soft chuckles telling y/n that she’s been so blind. It’s blatantly obvious, as cliche as it may sound, that she’s the last person to know. She knows that the connection y/n and Grayson have may be strong, but it’s also deep. It’s fragile in its strength, both them incredibly insecure in their own forged bond. It’s as if their closeness is a given, that regardless of their romantic circumstances, Grayson and y/n will always be Grayson and y/n. Through disjointing themselves into a relationship in which they consider their friendship absolute, they’re setting themselves up for heartbreak.

Luckily, y/n has a painfully busy day. She’s occupied with the tribulations of a tutorial and then an excessively profound study session with her Literature research group in the library. Y/n doesn’t think about Grayson. She desperately wants to, even if it’s just for a split second, but she knows that thinking about him will only lead to her conjuring theoretical scenarios in which she always gets let down. A wave of relief comes in the form of Ethan Dolan when he meets her outside of the student theatre at six in the evening. His eyes light up when he sees her coming his way, her tote bag filled with notebooks slung over her shoulder. “Hey there, kiddo.” he jokes, pulling her into a hug, “How’ve you been?” “Swamped,” she mumbles into his t-shirt, inhaling a familiar scent of gum and cologne, “Super excited for this though.” “Yeah me too, the reviews it’s had are all very complimentary.” Ethan leads her into the ugly concrete building that was probably recognized as architectural genius last century. “Guess we’ll have to see for ourselves!” y/n smiles, reaching for the programme he had in his hand. The show is underwhelming, to say the least; a load of students rolling around in fake blood screaming in iambic pentameter. Ethan and y/n sit catatonically, in sheer shock until the interval arrives. As the lights come up they turn to look at one another, pale-faced and slightly panicked and burst into a fit of childish giggles. “Jesus,” he breathes, “What is this?” “I don’t even know, I’ve never hated Macbeth more.” “I’m sorry I dragged you along to this,” he grimaces, unable to fathom what they’ve just watched. “Don’t be, it’s all very interesting.”

Ethan sighs loudly, like you do after you’ve been laughing for a while and suddenly remember that life seems to advance without giving you time to tap out. “Cass said you two had a talk this morning,” he says. Y/n feels her face get considerably warmer, “She did?” “Yeah, something about Gray keeping you awake at night.” Ethan spreads his legs a little wider, trying to get comfortable in the weirdly malleable velvet chair. He turns to gauge her expression. “Only on Saturdays,” y/n cringes, “It’s not that big of a deal.” “Just know he’s not having sex like five centimeters from you, yeah? Gray wouldn’t do that to you.”

He has to bite his tongue to keep himself from telling her more than his brother would want her to hear. Ethan loves y/n, they’ve been friends since they’d started college. But this was Grayson’s business and he didn’t want to intervene, as much as it frustrated him. Watching y/n shuffle into the kitchen on a Sunday morning, her hair slipping from the scrunchie she’d tied it in the night before and a fake smile adorning her slightly chapped lips when she saw Grayson, is painful in itself. Knowing that she thinks Grayson is the type of person to say one thing and completely refute his own morals is irritating. Living in an apartment with two human beings who refuse to accept that maybe there’s a possibility that they might be in love with each other is wickedly bothersome.

Y/n doesn’t know how she’s supposed to deal with this information. When returning from the theatre with Ethan that evening she heads straight to her room, avoiding any interaction with her housemates. She strips herself of her jeans and blouse and pulls on some sweatpants and the softest hoodie she owns, before curling up on her bed with her laptop in front of her. Being a recluse is quite enjoyable. Her phone vibrates on the bedside table, causing her to look up from the Netflix show playing in front of her. Y/n feels her heart begin to pound markedly faster when she sees who the text is from. SMS messages from your best friend aren’t supposed to make your palms damp. breakfast tomorrow?

She replies with the excuse that she has an essay to write. She hopes he’ll believe her, but she knows deep down that he’ll see right through the lie. Y/n hasn’t seen Grayson since Tuesday when he’d knocked on her door asking her if their Wi-Fi had cut out or if it was just his computer messing around. She doesn’t think she’s going to be able to face him again. Everything about him hurts her, and the worst part is that she knows it’s not intentional. Grayson can’t help how adorable he is when he laughs at one of his own jokes. He’s utterly oblivious to the way he makes her feel when he makes direct eye contact with her and asks her for her opinion because he really values it. Grayson Dolan doesn’t know that all he is is damn near perfect. There’s nothing he can do to make this better, she can’t risk losing their friendship over her emotional confusion. She wishes she could blame the whole scenario on someone else. But sadly, when you’re in love with your best friend, there’s not much you can do other than wallow in your own misfortune. Y/n curses whoever decided that unrequited emotions should be a fixture of human existence.

When she should be sharing pancakes and maple syrup with Grayson, y/n’s in the library. Her copy of Wuthering Heights is fanned out in front of her and her legs are tucked underneath her on one of the semi-comfortable chairs. Academia serves its purpose as a distraction, recently her motivation levels have been unwaveringly high. Someone moves to sit in front of her and instinctively she looks up to see who’s been unlucky in finding their own table. Y/n’s greeted by the blinding grin of Nat, his hair as tousled and as soft looking as it has always been and his adorable tortoise-shell glasses perched on his news. “Hi!” she whispers with a smile, fiddling with her pastel highlighter. “Hey, how are you?” he unzips his Kanken and takes out a hefty looking book. “I’m good, still studying. You?” “You’re incredibly motivated this term, aren’t you? I’m just trying to get in some reading before a lecture.” “How conscientious of you.”

Nat laughs, causing a few heads in the quiet space to turn their way. Y/n isn’t embarrassed to be seen with Nat. If anything, she’s quite proud. He’s popular across campus; vice-president of the student union, on the lacrosse team and well-known amongst faculty staff. People don’t mind that he’s a little loud, his vivaciousness is admirable. The pair get to work in their comfortable silence. He’s got his head rested on his hand as he flicks through the browned pages of his novel and she’s taking notes as she reads the assigned extract of her book. Y/n can’t help but sneak a few glances at him, so enthralled by his studiousness and his effortless ability to look cool. She’s halfway through quoting Heathcliff when she hears a whisper of her name. Nat watches her intently as she looks towards him, taking in the adorable sweater she’s wearing and the way pieces of her hair fall into her face every few minutes, forcing her to swipe them behind her ears. “There’s a party at mine tomorrow night, just a few of us seniors getting together. I’d really like you to come,” he says quietly. Y/n’s a little startled by the invitation. She’s never been directly invited to a party before, let alone a senior’s.

“I think I’m around,” she says abashed. “Awesome! I was kinda worried you wouldn’t wanna come.” Nat runs his tongue over his bottom lip and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “I don’t see you at many parties anymore.” “I haven’t been up to go out recently,” “I always see the Dolans at frat events, but never you.” “I guess I just haven’t been invited to a party I actually want to attend,” she lies, Nat’s not going to know about her situation so there’s no point feeling guilty. “Sounds like you’ve got high standards,” he laughs. “The highest.”

“You’re an actual saint, Grayson! Thank you so much!” Cassie cheers as she slams the back door of his Bronco. “Yeah thanks, bro.” Ethan chimes in, giving his brother a firm pat on the shoulder before clambering out of the car. “Don’t mention it.”

Grayson watches as Ethan shuts his door and begins to walk towards Alpha Sigma Pi’s house. He’s just about to drive off when Cassie runs back to the passenger side of the vehicle and pounds her tiny fist against the window. Grayson winds it down, looking at her in bewilderment. “Jesus, Cass! What’s wrong?” “If you’re planning on talking to y/n tonight, she’s not home.” “Oh, ok.” “She’s gone to this senior’s house to talk about Descartes with other clever people and she’ll probably wind up having sex with one of them because they all look cool as fu-” “When is she coming back?” Grayson asks, his mind teeming with scenarios in which something awful happens to y/n. “She never said, I’m sorry G.” Ethan’s noticed that Cassie hasn’t been following him, so he turns back towards the car. Grayson wants to question why he’s in need of Cassie’s sympathy but doesn’t want to have his entire emotional turmoil relayed to him through the eyes of his housemate. He runs a hand through his hair, tugging on it slightly as he realizes his entire plan for the night has been foiled. “What’s going on?” Ethan asks as he reaches the Bronco, his arm wrapping around Cassie so he can stick his head in through the window too. “I told him that y/n’s not in tonight.” “Yeah she’s gone to Nat’s, y’know the guy on the lacrosse team,” Ethan tells his twin, “Looks like you’ve got the apartment to yourself tonight, Gray.”

Cassie can practically feel the tension radiating off Grayson. She notices the way he’s refusing to look at them, his hazel eyes fixated on the empty road in front of him. His jaw clenches and relaxes a few times and he exhales loudly. “She’s safe, it’s not like this guy’s a creep or anything, and she hasn’t been out in ages.” she reasons. “I know,” Grayson mumbles, “I’m just gonna head home, get some sleep. You’re sure you don’t mind getting an Uber?” “No, you go ahead. You haven’t had a quiet weekend in ages.” Ethan says, giving the Bronco a little tap before lifting his weight off it. Cassie flashes Grayson a look of uncertainty to which he returns a tight-lipped smile. She steps away from the car and Grayson rolls up the window. The pair on the sidewalk watch as he drives off down the street. Cassie looks to Ethan, “Do you think it’s ever going to happen?” The broad floppy-haired boy shrugs, “I mean, I’ll be surprised if it doesn’t.”

Y/n has never felt so out of place in her entire college life. She’s stood in Nat’s kitchen alone, pouring herself a glass of something strong. Around her are a few seniors, collectively looking like an Urban Outfitters campaign, chatting animatedly amongst themselves. This kind of affair was a lot more understated than she was expecting; there’s no pounding bass blasting through speakers and there isn't a keg in sight. Y/n recognizes a few of the girls there, one red-head making an effort to approach her and ask if Professor Stevens was grading harshly this year. She’s received some compliments on her dress and a guy told her that her earrings were ‘actually awesome’, yet y/n feels so uncomfortable. She wonders if everyone that’s acknowledged her presence knows that she’s not a third year and doesn’t really belong here. She doesn’t even know why she decided to come.

Nat stumbles into the kitchen, notably tipsy and cheers at the sight of all his guests. He makes his way around each small cluster of people, giving hugs to the girls and weird bro-hugs that y/n will never fully understand to the guys. When he finally reaches her, his flushed face is adorned with a megawatt smile. “Y/n! I’m so glad you made it! How are you?” he shouts. “I’m good thank you, Nat. I see you’re having a nice time.” “We were playing Ring of Fire,” he guffaws, leaning on the counter opposite her for balance, “And as you can probably tell, the odds were not in my favor.” Y/n takes a sip of her drink, wincing at the burn it leaves in her throat, before taking another. She listens to him ramble about various drinking games as he gesticulates fiercely. Nat, despite being rather drunk, notices that y/n isn’t her usual relaxed self. He pushes up his glasses that have slipped hilariously far down his nose and shoves his hands into the pocket of his patterned dress pants. “You’re not drunk enough.” Y/n chuckles mid-sip of her drink, “You’re very right.” “Come play some games with us, it’ll get you pissed in no time.” Y/n gladly follows him into the living room and ends up squashed on a couch in between Nat and a very friendly girl called Sarah.

Grayson Dolan is pissed off. Not at anybody, unless if being angry towards yourself counts. He’s finally decided that he can’t go on avoiding y/n and she can’t go on avoiding him. Granted, it’s taken him far longer than it should have to come to the conclusion that there’s no point dancing around the term friendship if they’re not exactly friends right now. Grayson doesn’t know how he intended on telling her that he thinks he might have feelings for her. Before he’d found out that she wasn't in their apartment, he’d assumed that he might just walk in and profess his love for her on one knee. Y/n likes romantic literature, so she probably would have liked that. Nonetheless, Grayson is acutely aware that he does live in a reality in which everyone can break into song and somehow all know the choreography to an improvised number. As rom-com-like as this whole ordeal may feel, it’s still very much a brutal situation in which someone inevitably gets hurt. Not every male is a loveable, bumbling and British with the ability to somehow win the emotional lottery. Take that Hugh Grant.

He’s lying in his bed, the curtains drawn and the lights out, with the hood of his sweatshirt blocking out the rest of the world. He wants y/n. He wants her so much it hurts. He hates himself for ever blindly believing that it would take another girl to fill the weird void he has in his life. Grayson thought perhaps having someone else would ease the pain, maybe even dull it down a little until he could watch y/n smile at him and not have a rapid increase in heart rate.

Falling for your best friend is excessively romanticized and Grayson has come to realize this now. He didn’t wake up one morning realizing he loves y/n, nor did it come to him in an inexplicable flash of affection. It all sort of happened in stages. One minute he was admiring how charmingly funny she is, the next he’s noticing how pretty her eyes are and eventually he decides that she’s the best thing since sliced bread. It wasn’t a mutual epiphany, more of a staggered process in which the ‘f word’ transforms from something fricative and blasphemous to friend.

He doesn’t notice his phone’s vibrating at first, he’s far too immersed in his thoughts to be tugged away from them. But as Grayson rolls over onto his side, he notices his bedside table is shaking. His large hand fumbles along the surface, knocking over a tube of zit cream on his quest for his device. His eyes widen at her name across the screen and in panic, he accepts the call. “Y/n?” “Grayson?” he notices the way the first syllable of his name slurs into the second. “I’m here, is everything ok?” “Gray, I miss you. The party’s finished. I just wanted to call you.”

Part two! Here it is! I hope you guys liked it! It’s been a bit of a struggle trying to write all my ideas down in a way that’s somewhat cohesive and readable. This is definitely the longest piece I’ve written on Tumblr to date! I think it’s because this little story thingy is told from both characters’ perspectives, and usually I tend to like to stick to one narrative, if that makes sense? Anywho, please let me know what you thought because your feedback means the most! Have a lovely day / night - K x

{ p.s. here’s the lil tag list shenanigans I promised I’d try and sort out for you gorgeous people! @the-evolution-of-stupidity @skurtdolans @graydolan12 @thedarkrozeofnight @yslbailey thank you so much for all the love! }

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