#shes not even trying to do anything except turn the volume up in the echo chamber. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunkissed-zegras · 2 months

Note

38. "stay with me, please? i need you tonight. maybe for the rest of my life, if you're generous."

with jamie!

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 | jd⁹

♡ ─ word count | 1.6k

♡ ─ warnings | hurt/comfort, ANGST!! jamie being an asshole (but it was lowkey justified), mention of his injury/trade :((, thats all!

♡ ─ ev's notes | okay listen i forgot the prompt but the last few paragraphs basically describe what the prompt conveys if that makes sense, i still hope u enjoy it nonnie 😭🩷

Jamie had a pretty hard season, with him moving to Philadelphia unexpectedly and him being injured had really gotten to him. He's spent the last two weeks at home recovering and trying to get better as soon as he could, he wanted to be back on the ice as soon as possible. His injury added another layer of frustration. The pain, both physical and emotional, weighed heavily on him. Hockey had always been his sanctuary, and the forced break on top of the trade felt like the whole universe was against him.

You entered the condo, sighing with exhaustion. The last couple months had been frustrating for you as well, but it didn't even come close to how Jamie was feeling. As you entered the small condo, you heard the shower running and assumed it was Jamie.

You put down everything and began starting on dinner, Jamie probably hadn't eaten anything except breakfast. You were worried for him, more than you could ever express. You'd always had faith in him even in the lowest of the lows but he had never been this low in his entire career. He'd always been a determined person but right now, it really did feel like the odds were stacked up against him.

You wanted to do everything in your power to make him happy again, even if it was for a fleeting moment before the world closing on him again. The smell of a home-cooked meal began to fill the air as you moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and preparing a comforting dish.

As you worked, your thoughts lingered on Jamie's struggles - the trade, the injury, and the emotional toll it all took on him. You understood the importance of hockey in his life, how it served as a source of purpose. Tonight, you wanted to provide not just a meal but a reminder that he wasn't alone in this struggle, no matter what happens.

As your timer beeped, indicating that dinner was ready, you set the table, adorned with comforting dishes. The shower turned off, and soon Jamie emerged, his weariness evident in his movements. You gave him a warm smile, opening up your arms for a hug.

"I made your favorite,"

He slumped down to your height and embraced you tightly, sighing. You let him hug you before he slipped away from the embrace, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders as he did. The weariness in his pretty eyes spoke volumes, but so did the gratitude for the effort you put into making the evening a little brighter.

"Thank you," Jamie murmured, his voice a mixture of fatigue and appreciation. He walked over to the table and sat down as you brought waters from the fridge before sitting with him.

"How was your day?" You asked gently as you settled into the seat, glancing up to watch him.

"It was fine." He responded shortly as he began eating the food, avoiding your gaze. You knew he didn't want to come off bitter but it stung, you tried your best to not to take it personal. "You?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," you replied with a light chuckle, trying to maintain a casual tone. "Work had its moments, but nothing too exciting. I did manage to catch up with Maya over the phone today, she said she missed us back in California."

You knew you had messed up as you heard Jamie's fork hit the plate, the sound echoing throughout the apartment. Shit, I shouldn't have mentioned California. You looked up and caught his tired gaze as he sighed.

"I'm sorry," you offered softly, regret lacing your words. "I didn't mean to bring up anything that might upset you. It's just habit to share little updates about people we know, you know?"

Jamie took a deep breath, and you could see the effort it took for him to compose himself. "It's okay," he finally replied, though the strain in his voice betrayed the words. "I just... miss the way things used to be."

His vulnerability hung in the air, and you felt a pang of empathy. The unexpected move to Philadelphia had disrupted not only his career but also the familiar life you both had in California. You reached across the table, gently placing your hand over his. "I miss it too, Jamie. But we'll make new memories here. It just takes time."

He sighed and pulled his hand away from yours, your chest squeezing in hurt. He took the fork and continued to eat, choosing to stay silent. You didn't know why he was being so distant, so cold. You hated it but you couldn't resent him for it, you knew it wasn't his fault. That still didn't mean it didn't hurt, though.

The room seemed to shrink with the silence, the only sound was the clinking of cutlery against the plate. The unspoken tension between you and Jamie hung heavy in the air and despite your attempt to offer comfort, he withdrew further into his thoughts. As he continued to eat in silence, you couldn't shake the ache in your chest. The distance, both physical and emotional, left you feeling like a spectator in Jamie's struggle, unable to bridge the gap that seemed to widen with each passing moment.

You had never had this problem with Jamie before, he communicated everything he felt so that it was easier for the both of you so this was new territory. What had changed? Why was he retreating into this new, silent version of himself? The questions lingered, unanswered, amplifying the sense of helplessness.

With a heavy sigh, you set your fork down, the clatter against the plate echoing the unease in the room. "Jamie," you began tentatively, your voice soft but carrying the weight of your concern. "I hate seeing you like this, I just want to help."

Jamie had finally slammed the fork down, looking up at you with agitated playing on his face. "You can't fucking help me, Y/N. Do you get that, is that simple enough for you? I can't breathe around you without you looking at me and trying to analyze it and help me. You look at me like I'm some kind of burden you need to carry, and I'm sick of it."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the raw emotion behind them stinging more than any physical blow. It was a side of Jamie you hadn't encountered before, and the harshness in his tone took you aback. There was silence as you both stared at each other and you saw the regret slowly seep into Jamie's expression.

You took a moment to collect yourself, swallowing the lump in your throat before finally speaking. "I never meant to make you feel like a burden. I just care about you, and seeing you struggle hurts. I thought we could face it together, like we always have."

He lowered his gaze, a visible conflict playing out in his eyes. The regret painted across his face was palpable, and for a moment, it seemed like he was grappling with the weight of his words. "I know I messed up," Jamie finally admitted, his voice softer now, remorse evident. "It's just... everything feels like too much right now, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, baby."

The pet name rolled off his tongue like honey as he spoke and you could see the old Jamie come back slowly as you gazed at him. You nodded, acknowledging the complexity of the emotions that had fueled his outburst.

"Everything will be easier if you just talk to me, Jamie." You paused, choosing your words carefully. "I want to understand, Jamie. I want to be there for you," you continued, your voice gentle but firm. "We can face whatever it is together. Just talk to me. Please."

He sighed, the conflict in his eyes softening. "I know, Y/N. I just... I'm not used to all of this. The move, the injury, it's like my whole world got turned upside down, and I don't know how to understand it."

You reached across the table, your hand finding his. "We'll figure it out together. You don't have to carry it all on your own. I hate seeing you hurt like this, baby."

He squeezed your hand, the warmth of the gesture was filled with gratitude. "I don't want to push you away, Y/N. I just... I've always been the one who had it all figured out, you know? But this, it's different. It's overwhelming."

"You don't have to have it all figured out, Jamie. We'll navigate through this together. It's okay not to be okay, you don't have to play the part because at the end of the day, you're just human."

He nodded, a mixture of emotions flickering in his eyes. "I'm just scared of losing everything, of losing myself in all of this mess."

The weight of his fears hung in the air, and you leaned in, your thumb gently caressing his hand. "You won't lose yourself, Jamie. I'm here to help you find your way back. We'll take it one step at a time."

For a moment, he hesitated, the weight of vulnerability hanging in the air. Then, slowly, he began to open up. The words spilled out, frustration, fear, and the overwhelming pressure he felt. As he spoke, you listened, offering support.

After the conversation, you laid next to him in the bed, his head laying on your chest. The silence was comfortable as you both began to seep into sleep, enveloped in one another. Your fingers gently traced soothing patterns on his back as you held him close, your presence a reassurance that he wasn't alone ever.

The soft rhythm of his breathing matched the steady beat of your heart, as Jamie shifted slightly, his fingers finding yours in the darkness.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#❀ evangeline's 1k celly!!⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚#jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x you #jamie drysdale smut #philadephia flyers #philidelphia flyers #jamie drysdale x y/n #nhl angst #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl players #hockey smut #hockey fic #hockey stuff

198 notes · View notes

rainroses45 · 1 year

Text

(Sully family x daughter reader)

description: you are Neteyam’s twin sister and you always try to please your father

a/n: I honestly need some sad fanfic right now so i decided to do it myself…(not edited)

song inspiration: Cherry-colored funk

You were twins, two of the same people. You shared a birth, a home, a face, everything. Neteyam and you were the eldest of the family. Dad expected the both of you to be the role models. The co-captains of the ‘squad’. A role not chosen, but forced upon by the lectures and trainings throughout your childhood. You felt like a misplaced puzzle piece, constantly being shoved into different spots of a picture you weren’t apart of. They tried, oh how they tried to make you be the perfect fit. They cut you apart, shaved off your links that belonged to another puzzle piece, but it was no use, you were an outcast. Not only by your blood, but by your abilities.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

You thought back on today as you stared at the sky. The world was seeping in with your thoughts to the point you couldn’t tell where the crashing sound was coming from. Each wave came harder than the last, its current was strong and frightful, you wanted to make peace with it but weren’t quite sure how to confront it.

Today was a rough day, it wasn’t just how you failed to fit in with the clan, but you got into a fight with the chief’s son. Once again it wasn’t your fault, but it made your dad’s life so much easier to just place the blame on you. No matter how hard you tried to explain yourself, how hard you tried to defend your sister’s honor, nothing was ever put to justice with him in rule. He was the general and you were merely a soldier who served nothing more than another number, another responsibility, another disappointment.

His words still echoed through your thick skull. Its memory brought back the deep waves of depression and hopelessness. The liquid falling from your eyes wasn’t from the ocean, it physically pained you to be associated always as the disappointment of the family.

“I asked you all for one thing! One thing, and you guys completely disregarded it!” Your dad yelled at you, Lo’ak, and Neteyam, his fury rolled off of him in red waves. His tone and volume made you feel unsafe.

“Sir I take full blame,” Neteyam butted into the lecture, again trying to take the fall. I glared at him, he needs to stop doing that.

“Neteyam you need to stop taking the blame for your siblings. Go, I will talk to you later.” Neteyam sighed nodding back in acceptance, he looked at me in sadness and walked out the mauri. Lo’ak began to also leave thinking he was going to get away lecture free, but was soon shut down.

“Don’t think I don’t see you Lo’ak, I will talk to you next.” Your father stated with his arms crossed in disapproval. Lo’ak looked down grumbling, then left leaving me alone with my father.

“I asked for one thing Y/n. One simple order, and you completely disregard it!” Your father turned his attention towards you.

“But sir-“ You tried to explain yourself hoping it would ease the tension. Once news of the fight was heard, he kicked everyone out except you and your brothers, so much for your siblings right now. No one dared to argue back except your mother, but she was quickly distracted by Tuk’s calls.

“No more excuses Y/n! I’m tired of hearing your excuses.” He interrupted you, his words getting harsher and harsher.

“But sir Kiri-“ You tried once again to explain your reasoning, but you were shut down by your father.

“Do you even care about this family?” He glared at you letting his hands form into fists. His death glare cause you to tremble in anger and fear.

“What?” You looked at your father in shocked. How could he ask such a thing? You would die for this family. You would give up anything for your family. “Of course I do sir.” Your voice was shaky and dry while your hands sweat from nervousness.

“Then why are you acting so selfish? Why can’t you be like Neteyam and listen to me?” He asked you with his arms lazily open, waiting patiently for your ‘excuse’. His words hit you deep. Why couldn’t you be like Neteyam?

“I do dad! I try dad- I mean sir, I truly do try.” You looked everywhere until you finally met your father’s gaze once more. At this point tears threaten to fall from your eyes.

“Stop lying!” He screamed, you slowly began to move back from your spot. Your dad looked down to let out a sigh then looked back at you with his hands on his hips. “You’re dismissed, I don’t want to see you right now.”

With that final response you left the area and went to the isolated beach. It wasn’t suppose to end like that.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“Guys,” you softly yelled as you swam towards a nearby rock. Your wounds began to ache more and more. The adrenaline was wearing out and you felt yourself slowly give up. You put your everything during the battle, taking down the sky people left and right, protecting the Metkayina and your family from harm.

Your lungs began to burn, but you couldn’t stop now; you picked your head up to see if anyone was on the rock or near by. Smiling you see your brother laying on the rock, you called out to him. “Neteyam!” The pure joy in your voice was so true and loud. “Neteyam!” You yelled once again, your spirit blossomed giving you the energy to swim towards the rock. During the short distance, you thought nothing of the silence or how your twin never responded back to your calls.

“Neteyam,” you said as you climbed the rock slowly, being careful to not cause any more damage to your open wounds. You touched your brother’s shoulder - it was cold. Your eyes widen at the blood staining your brother’s skin. He’s dead.

You drop your head down, letting your tears fall at the sudden loss, and then looked up to the sky screaming. Screaming for the loss of your twin. Screaming for the pain of not saving him. Screaming because you have only yourself to blame. It was always your fault. One of the only people who stood up for you, who truly loved you for you. He was gone. You didn’t get to say thank you, and you never will.

You slowly laid down next to your brother as sobs escaped. The pain of your wounds was soon forgotten and replaced with the loss of your brother. This is who the both of you are, a product of war. A product that stood no chance in the current. Loving any of us was a death sentence, wasn’t it? If you put everything into perspective, he fell but hit the ground; you fell and there nothing was there to catch you.

You looked back at all your memories, you wouldn’t apologize for your actions, nor would you regret what you have done, but you were truly sorry for the ending of it all. You didn’t know that you too would fill the ocean, and still not leave a permanent mark behind.

You watched the stars as the sky grew hazy and blissful. The pain was too much to bare, it was torturous. Rivers of red issued from your veins to be greeted by the sweet air. Your body ’s temperature dropped every second making it harder to fight off the breeze. You wished to go home and lay in the green moss. You wished you could visit the spirt tree, you wished you could talk to your older brother once more.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•

“Dad where is Y/n?” Kiri asked as they swam away from the drowning ship. Everyone was rescued and the sky people were finally taken care of. It wasn’t until this question was asked that a new problem arose.

“Lo’ak where did you leave your little sister?”Neytiri asked holding on to Tuk who was trying to free herself from her mother’s iron grip.

“She was fighting off one of the sky people, before I left.” He tried to recall back everything the has happened, but it was too blurry. Memories seemed to fade or be miss sequenced in his mind.

“Mama!” Tuk called out pointing towards the rock where Neteyam laid. “Mama look!” She demanded trying to grab her mother’s attention.

“What is it my sweet daughter?” The family turned around to face where the young child was pointing at. It was the rock where Neteyam rested, but there appears to be another body laying there. Quickly your family began to swim, hoping it was you on the rock.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“Is it okay if i give up?” You asked to the darkness. Not knowing your family was nearby; they all began to swim faster trying to reach you. Your body was so tired, oh so very tired. The loss of blood and hope took a role on your body. You felt lethargic and on fire, like a ragged doll being burned alive. You were on the verge of closing your eyes when the sound of splashing and gasps were heard.

“My sweet daughter, oh my sweet daughter,” your mother wailed as she grasped your head into her arms. Your family saw your condition and they knew, oh they knew.

Your father climbed up the rock quickly after seeing how much blood you lost. “No, no, hold on there baby. I got you, I got you.” Your dad whispered as he turned you around to check your wounds. Two bullet holes were seen on your adoniminal , it was a full sweep.

“Be careful with her head,” you cried out in pain at the sudden movement. They shifted you back to the rock, you were still holding loosely to your brother’s hand.

“I am so sorry sweetheart,” your dad cried as he held your other hand. Kiri held Tuk as she looked around confused as to why everyone was crying. Lo’ak couldn’t even look at you, he stared off into the ocean.

“GREAT MOTHER PLEASE, OH GREAT MOTHER PLEASE,” your mother begged, for what you do not know. The sky was getting darker and you felt more heavy.

“I- I want to go home dad,” you sneered out in pain. You turned your head to the side and let out a cough filled with blood.

“I know baby, I know, we are going home, but you have to stay with us babygirl. Stay with us.” He wiped the blood away from your mouth as more tear began to fall from your eyes.

“Dad I am sorry-“ He quickly silenced you before you could finish apologizing.

“No, I am sorry baby. I am so sorry. If I could take back everything I would.” He promised with a sad smile. You were his baby. His little girl, how could he fail his one job. He was a father he was suppose to protect that is what gave it meaning, but right now he felt like that title should be ripped away from him. He lost his children. His reason to protect, how could he such a disappointment.

“Dad I-“ You never did finish your sentence that night. Your eyes rolled back and you let out your last breathe in vain. Goodbye world, you tried and that’s all that matters.

#avatar #sully family #neteyam #lo’ak #jake sully #major character death #sadnees #angst tag #neytiri #atwow tuk #kiri avatar

269 notes · View notes

mandos-mind-trick · 1 year

Text

Here's To The Future - Part 4: Rampage

Summary: The war’s over. That should be cause for celebration, except the wrong side won. Things begin to change quickly, and it doesn’t take long for Midnight to realize something’s not right among the clone army. She should be glad the war is over, but the threat of her losing her boys is all too real. She did swear she would do everything she could to keep them from being separated when the war ended.

She’s not going to give up on that promise. Even if it kills her.

Pairing: The Bad Batch x reader (no clonecest)

Warnings: Some violence, mentions of slavery, a brief mention of blood and injuries.

A/N: Takes place during episode 5. Not much plot wise, mostly just a filler to get to the next part which will be sort of the build up to the climax of the story. Also an excuse to have Midnight and Omega interact a bit more.

Also I am still looking for a beta reader for this one, so if you’re interested…

< Previous | Next > | SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“But she looks so peaceful! I don’t want to wake her up!”

“She’s been asleep almost sixteen standard hours. While she likely needs the rest to catch up on her missed sleep, oversleeping any more may inhibit her cognitive abilities, awareness, reaction time-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever that means. I’ll wake her up.”

She’s already mostly awake by the time large, calloused fingers trail along her cheek. Though the noise in the ship isn’t anything new, it was usually dampened by her door. It’s a lot louder in the bunks with nothing but a privacy curtain to keep the sound out. Sure her room is now uninhabited, but she can’t bring herself to leave Crosshair’s bunk yet. Not while it still smells like him.

“It’s time to get up, cyare.” Wrecker says softly, a vast contrast to his previous volume.

She leans into his touch, groaning quietly. “Five more minutes.”

“Tech says you have to get up.” Wrecker counters, gently stroking her cheek. “Something about cognitive whatever.”

“He’s not my mom.” She pouts. “Lemme sleep till we land.”

“We have landed.” Tech says, appearing next to Wrecker.

“What?” Midnight sits straight up, narrowly avoiding smacking her head on the top of the bunk. “When? Where”

“We landed moments ago on Ord Mantell. We’re investigating the contact Echo knows about.” Tech says, offering a hand.

Midnight ignores it, sliding out of the bunk with a groan. Wrecker catches her easily, keeping her from falling face first onto the floor. She rubs her eyes, trying to blink life back into her body. “How long was I asleep?”

“Sixteen standard hours.” Tech answers. “Though you have caught up on some missed sleep, by my calculations you need at least five days of nonstop sleep to recover completely.”

Midnight blinks at him, her sleep drowsy brain trying to process his words. Had he been keeping track of how much she was sleeping? It’s not that unusual for him, he knew the ins and outs of every member of the squad down to weird little habits they didn’t even notice. The fact that he was paying so much attention to her is touching.

“Aw, Tech,” She wraps her arms around him, resting her cheek on the hard plastoid of his chestplate. “You’re so sweet. But I need a lot more than that to make up for a lifetime of poor sleep.”

“Hmm.” Tech adjusts his goggles. “Well, I’ll have to do more calculations...”

Midnight stands on her toes, kissing his cheek. “You do that, my sweet nerd.”

She makes to walk away, but a disappointed groan stops her. She turns back around, finding Wrecker standing there with a pout. “Well, what about me?” He asks.

“I can’t forget you, Wrecker!” She grins, stepping up to him. She stands up on her toes, cupping his face. She traces the scar on his cheek for a moment before she pulls him down, pressing her lips to his in a sweet kiss.

“Better?” She asks, pulling away.

He nods, sneaking back in for another kiss. “Better.”

****

Ord Mantell city reminds her a bit of home. Or, at least this part of it does. It’s brighter than the lower levels of Coruscant, and a lot cleaner, but if she hadn’t known better, she would have assumed they’d returned to Coruscant.

Despite their missing member, Midnight takes the spot in the middle between Tech and Echo once more. It’s still natural for them, even after all this time.

Omega walks in front with Hunter, their leader grilling her a bit on the rules he had laid out since their last mishap.

“Remember the rules?” Hunter asks Omega.

“Don’t wander off, keep my eyes and ears on my surroundings, and trust no one but my squad.” Omega says.

“And if you get into trouble?” Echo asks.

“Use my comm and give my location.” Omega says confidently.

They make their way down an alley, Echo taking the lead.

“This is the place.” He says, stopping at a flight of stairs leading down to the entrance of a bar.

“Charming.” Tech snarks.

“I’ve seen worse.” Midnight shrugs, following them down the steps.

The bar is dimly lit, and mostly empty aside from an Ithorian and a Weequay arguing over a gambling table, and a Trandoshan.

“Which one of them is Cid?” Hunter asks Echo.

“I couldn’t tell ya.” Echo answers. “I only heard about Cid. Never actually met him.”

“That would have been information to share earlier.” Tech says.

Hunter approaches the Trandoshan. “We’re looking for Cid. You know him?”

“Cid, huh?” The Trandoshan says. “Nope. Doesn't ring a bell.”

“What about them?” Hunter nods at the other two who were now getting into a physical fight over whatever they were arguing about.

“Was I not clear? You’re in the wrong place.” The Trandoshan taps Hunter with the wrench in her hand. “So unless you’re here to spend money, get lost.”

“Great plan, Echo.” Wrecker says.

Midnight watches the Trandoshan sit at the bar, narrowing her eyes. She moves closer, leaning up against the bar. Omega plays with the buttons on one of the dejarik tables as the others argue.

“You know, it’s a bit odd.” Midnight says. “This place is called Cid’s. So unless that name was picked at random...”

“You’re Cid.” Omega finishes for her, stepping up closer to them.

The Trandoshan turns, crossing her arms. “You’re both sharper than your friends over there.”

Omega activates her comm, the sound echoing in the close quarters. “I found Cid.”

The other four turn to look, Midnight leaning against the bar with a smirk on her face, Omega pointing up at the Trandoshan behind her.

***

“I had a good thing going with the Jedi.” Cid says as she leads them into her office. “They valued my insights. But now that they’re all dead, the demand for my services has declined. Thanks to this new Empire.”

Midnight leans against the wall near the door, the others looking around Cid’s office.

“Times have changed...for all of us.” Hunter says.

“No kidding. I never had clone deserters come to me before.”

“Yes, well, we separated due to a fundamental difference in ideology.” Tech says.

“That’s cute, you thinking I care.” Cid cuts him off. “Cut to it and tell me what you want.”

Echo plugs himself into the scomp, bringing up an image of the bounty hunter.

“We encountered this woman on Pantora.” Hunter says. “Do you know who she is?”

“No.” Cid shakes her head, staring at the holo of the woman. “But I know a bounty hunter when I see one.”

“Can you find out who hired her?” Echo asks.

“That depends on what you boys do for me.” Cid says.

Hunter and Tech share a look, Midnight rolling her eyes. They were still very new at this.

“Are you fresh outta the tube? You pull a job for me, and I get the information you want. That’s how this mercenary thing works.”

“Mercenary?” Echo asks.

“Not too quick, are ya?” Cid asks, moving behind her desk. “Clearly the kid and cover girl back there are the brains of your operation.”

“What kind of job?” Hunter sighs, asking exasperatedly.

“A rescue.” Cid says, sinking into her chair as they move closer. “There’s a nice bounty on a kid named Muchi. My sources say she was taken by Zygerrian slavers who are holed up on the other side of the planet. Bring me the kid and I’ll get you your intel.”

“Well, who collects the bounty?” Wrecker asks.

“Oh look, it talks. We split the bounty 70-30, my favor. Take it or leave it.”

“Grab a kid from a few Zygerrians?” Wrecker says, moving towards the door. “We can do that in our sleep.”

“Looks like we have a deal.” Cid says, tossing the puck to Hunter as the others file out. “Details of the bounty are on that. Don’t screw it up.”

****

“What do you think?” Hunter asks as she leans up against the side of the pilot’s seat.

Midnight shrugs. “I don’t trust anyone. But, if she can make good on getting this information, she might be useful to have around.”

“And if she can provide us a way to make credits...”

Midnight sighs. “We don’t have to-”

“Keep your credits.” Hunter cuts her off, already knowing where this is headed.

“Why?” She presses. “I have more than enough.”

“I want you to keep them.” Hunter says, his tone telling her he’s done arguing this point.

Wrecker groans, clutching at his head, really finishing the conversation for them. Midnight moves to the empty seat, plopping herself down.

“You all right?” Hunter asks Wrecker, watching him.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s nothing.” Wrecker nods, getting up from the copilot’s seat, leaving the cockpit.

“According to Cid’s intel, the Zygerrian slave traders are hiding in the ruins of Old Ord Mantell city.” Tech says as Echo and Omega enter the cockpit.

“What’s a slave trader?” Omega asks, taking Wrecker’s abandoned seat.

“Someone who buys and sells people for credits.” Tech explains nonchalantly.

“People can be sold?” Omega asks in surprise.

“They don’t have a choice.” Echo says. “They’re captives treated like property.”

“That...doesn’t seem right.”

“It’s not. And we are going to stop it from happening to that kid.” Echo says.

“As well as earn a decent amount of credits once the job is complete.” Tech interjects.

“Yeah, that too.” Echo says before exiting the cockpit.

“Don’t worry, Muchi. We’ll rescue you.” Omega says, holding her trooper doll.

They land a distance away from the city, making their way to an overlooking cliff. Sure enough, there’s a ship sitting in the city, and several Zygerrians roaming around. Omega, Tech, and Wrecker scan the city with binocs, looking for the captives.

“I have a visual.” Tech says. “I only see one child.”

“Poor Muchi. She looks scared.” Omega says.

“I’m clocking two dozen hostels.” Tech continues. “Multiple entry points with minor fortification.”

“Simple smash and grab like that time on Kuat.” Wrecker says. “Easy enough.”

“I’m in.” Omega says. “What are we waiting for?” She makes to move forward, but Hunter stops her.

“You get back to the ship.” He orders her.

“But-”

“That’s an order.”

They leave Omega behind, sneaking their way down into the city. Tech leads the way, all of them careful not to make too much noise.

“Echo, you’re the eyes in the sky.” Hunter says as they stop. “Wrecker, Midinght, draw the Zygerrian forces out. Tech and I will grab the kid.”

“Not a problem.” Wrecker says.

They move further into the city, waiting for Echo to get into place.

“Echo, sitrep.” Hunter asks, ducking behind a piece of rubble.

“Two roving patrols on speeders. First guard checkpoint dead ahead.” He goes quiet for a moment. “Hang on. I think I’ve got company.”

“Well, take care of it. Quietly.” Hunter says.

There’s a yell and Echo falls from the building, hitting the ground with a thud. A Brezak flies out of the sky, narrowly hitting them. It lands, hitting Wrecker with its tail, throwing him into a rock. Tech, Hunter and Midnight fire at the Brezak, but it flies off. They find themselves surrounded by Zygerrians, one of them firing an electric net at them, knocking them unconscious.

***

Midnight leans against the fountain, glaring down one of the Zygerrian guards. He’d been the one to chain her up, being a little too touchy for her liking. Once they get free, she’s going to smash his head in. Her arms are cuffed behind her, the position not exactly comfortable. She supposes it could be worse, though.

“It’s getting looser.” Wrecker says, tugging at his collar, trying to get it off discreetly.

His body suddenly jerks, being electrocuted by his collar.

“Do that one more time and you’ll be-” Echo is cut off in his threat by his own collar electrocuting him.

“Save your energy.” Tech says from next to her. “We are going to need it.”

The Brezak that had attacked them flies overhead, landing on one of the tallest buildings. Midnight can just make out a figure standing at the top, looking down at them. That must be their leader.

The Brezak roars, the three people that had been there before shrinking back in fear, the child whimpering.

“Relax, Muchi.” Wrecker says. “We’re the cavalry.”

“What are our odds out of this, Tech?” Hunter asks.

“I am not certain.” He replies.

“So much for being smart.” Wrecker snarks.

Tech sighs. “This is not a standard military operation, and seeing as how we’ve never been tasked with rescuing a child from slave traders before, there’s no data I can compare it to.”

“We need to signal Omega before their scouts find her.” Hunter says.

“Except our comms are over there with our weapons.” Echo says, nodding at their pile of gear.

Tech looks up, eyes widening before he turns back to Hunter. “We won’t need a comm to signal her.”

Hunter turns, looking up at the roof of a building. Midnight glances over, seeing Omega there.

The door to the building slides open, the lead Zygerrian coming through. Midnight hates him immediately upon first sight. He walks with his hands behind his back, holding himself upright with an air of arrogance and self importance. He reminds her a bit of Admiral Tarkin.

“Look at what we have here.” He says, walking closer to them. “Five new slaves to add to my collection. “Strong ones too. You should fetch a nice price.” He steps in front of Midnight, grasping her chin in his hand. His grip is tight, his claws threatening to break her skin. “This one especially.” He smirks at her.

She’s not sure what possesses her, but she leans her head back, spitting right in his face. He releases her, wiping it off of his fur before rearing back and slapping her. Her head snaps to the side, her cheek burning. The others shift, rattling the chains. Midnight turns back to face him, glaring at him. She can feel the slow ooze of liquid sliding down her face. He’s caught her with his claws.

“You’re going to regret that.” She says, as threateningly as she can.

He smirks, chuckling. “Even the most defiant of slaves can be broken.”

“The Republic outlawed slavery.” Echo says angrily, trying to draw his attention from her.

“We’re not in the Republic anymore, skug.” He says, turning and walking away.

“You’re lucky we don’t have our gear, because this would go very differently for you.” Echo says, trying to direct Omega discreetly.

Midnight shifts slightly, wiping some of the oozing blood onto her armor. It would be easier to clean off that than if it gets into her clothes.

“Are you alright?” Tech asks her quietly.

Midnight rolls her eyes. “I’ve been hit by men before, Tech.” She turns to look at him, the look on his face cutting off her breath.

His brows are furrowed behind his goggles, eyes narrowed. There’s a dark look on his face, his eyes full of anger. She’s never seen him look like this before. At least, not up close.

Something falls off to their left, drawing everyone’s attention. Omega must have knocked something loose in her attempt to get down to them. A couple guards begin walking in that direction, but Wrecker kicks a rock, knocking the feet out from under a guard. Midnight bites back a laugh, but is quickly sobered as another guard ignites his electro-whip, whipping Wrecker with it.

“We can make do with one less slave.” The leader says, turning back to them. “Maybe I’ll feed you to my pet.” The Brezak roars in response. “As for the rest of you, you will be part of a new beginning. With the meddling Republic gone, we can return to Kadavo and rebuild what was taken from us. Under this new Empire, our operation will flourish once again. And if you do not comply... the person next to you will pay the price.”

Midnight resists the urge to roll her eyes. She hates monologues, especially given by assholes who think too highly of themselves. Thankfully the leader is distracted by something, one of the guards carrying over a struggling Omega.

“I found her sneaking around the cage.” The guard says.

“I wasn’t sneaking.” Omega says. “I was unlocking.” She holds up a bolt.

The large cage begins shaking as something snarls inside. The Zygerrians run to try and close it back up, but the doors fly open, a rancor bursting out. The Zygerrians fire at the Rancor, but only succeed in making it angrier.

“A rampaging adolescent rancor is not the distraction I was anticipating.” Tech says.

“That’s their problem.” Wrecker says, bracing himself against the fountain. “We’re getting out of here.” He snaps the chain holding all of them in place.

Echo works on removing their bonds, Omega coming up to the child.

“It’s okay, Muchi. We’re here to take you home.” She says.

The older Falleen points at the Rancor, speaking in Falleen, but none of them need to understand to know what he’s saying.

“The rancor is Muchi?” Echo asks.

The others grab their gear and weapons, Hunter tossing Echo his as the rancor runs through the city, tossing Zygerrians as it goes.

“Gear up. We have to go after Muchi.” He says. “If we don’t capture her, we don’t get our intel from Cid.”

They follow Hunter who tracks the Rancor, running through the city. The other captives follow, barely managing to keep up as they stop for a moment.

“What about them?” Omega asks, motioning to the Falleen and the human.

“Omega and I will get them to safety. You find Muchi.” Echo says.

“Right. Go for the speeders at the south entrance.” Hunter says.

Tech translates for them as they head off in their own direction. The others follow the path of bodies, finding Muchi surrounded, but easily taking out the Zygerrians.

“She’s doing fine on her own.” Wrecker says, impressed.

Midnight is impressed as well, silently cheering as the rancor takes out Zygerrian after Zygerrian. That excitement quickly ends, though, as Muchi turns on them, having taken care of the rest of the Zygerrians.

Of course. How exactly were they going to convince a rancor they’re the good guys?

Wrecker and Tech draw their weapons, but Hunter quickly puts his arms out to stop them. They need Muchi alive, and as unharmed as possible.

A roar sounds behind them, the brezak swooping out of the sky with the Zygerrian leader on its back. They turn and fire, barely missing getting taken out by it as it lands. The brezak turns on Muchi, the Zygerrian lifting his electro-whip, but Hunter tackles him off the brezak before he can hurt Muchi.

Muchi turns and runs, the brezak following after her.

“You’re going to pay for this, skug.” The leader says to Hunter.

“I’ll handle him.” Hunter says as Wrecker, Tech, and Midnight run up to him. “Go get Muchi.”

They run after the rancor, following the sound of the fight between the brezak and the rancor. Muchi must have won as the brezak flies off, leaving them facing down the angry rancor.

“Any ideas how to stop that thing?” Wrecker asks Tech.

Tech pulls out his datapad, typing away. “Rancors adhere to a social hierarchy. You have to challenge the alpha for authority.”

“Oh that I can do.” Wrecker says, tossing his blaster aside before he runs at Muchi.

Tech and Midnight watch as Wrecker and Muchi fight, beating the piss out of each other. Hunter joins them soon after, watching as they begin to slow down, getting tired.

Echo rides up on a scooter with Omega, Wrecker and Muchi barely swinging at each other now.

“How long’s he been at this?” Echo asks as they hop off the scooter.

“Too long.” Tech answers. “He’s losing his touch.”

They weakly swing at each other one more time before Muchi flops on her side, falling asleep. Wrecker leans against her, gently patting her head.

“Aw. She’s kinda cute up close.” Omega says, stepping up closer.

“Nicely handled, Wrecker.” Hunter says.

Wrecker grunts indistinctly, giving him a thumb’s up. He’s going to sleep really well tonight.

***

They eventually get Muchi and Wrecker roused again, transporting them back to the city. Omega rides happily on Muchi’s back as they make their way towards Cid’s.

“Aw. That’s a good rancor.” Wrecker says, patting Muchi’s head.

A male Twi’lek comes out of Cid’s, approaching Muchi happily. He speaks to Muchi in Huttese, hugging her face. Cid pushes past the two Gamorrean guards, looking at Hunter in disbelief for a moment.

“See, Bib? All is well.” She says. “Now, about the matter of payment.” The Twi’lek snaps at one of the Gamorreans and he hands over some credits.

Omega slides off the rancor, the Twi’lek and Gamorreans leading Muchi away.

“Bye, Muchi.” Wrecker says.

Muchi turns, roaring happily at them.

“Gotta say, fellas.” Cid says. “I wasn’t sure you could pull this job off.”

“You could have told us we were going after a rancor.” Echo says.

“Hmm. Must have slipped my mind.” Cid says. She points at Hunter. “You, dark and broody. My office.”

Tech turns on Midnight as Hunter makes his way into the bar with Cid. He tilts her head back, looking at the scratch marks on her cheek. They’ve stopped bleeding, but the skin is still burning.

“They’re not very deep.” He says, studying them. “But they need to be cleaned.”

“I’m fine.” She says, trying to push his hands away. “What’s the worst that could happen? My skin falls off?”

“Yes.” Tech deadpans.

Midnight gives him a horrified look. “Okay. When we get back to the ship you can clean them.”

“Good.” He takes her face again, poking at the cuts. “They shouldn’t scar. It doesn't appear to have broken too deeply into the dermis. Bacta should clear them up rather quickly.”

Midnight tries to bat his hand away, but he’s insistent on poking her face.

“Do they hurt?” Hunter asks, appearing out of nowhere as he steps up to her.

“They do when someone’s touching them.” She tries to push Tech’s hand away, but he’s insistent.

Something comes over Hunter’s face as he stares at her, his eyes hardening and the look darkening. She looks up at Tech, finding a similar look behind his goggles. She looks past Tech at Echo, his eyes narrowed.

“Oh.” She says lamely, letting her hands drop to her sides.

“I hope you gave him what he deserved.” Wrecker says, stepping closer.

“I did.” Hunter says, his voice dark. “Come on.” He puts a hand on her back. “Let’s get back to the ship.”

***

Midnight changes clothes, stretching out her limbs now that they’re free of the armor. Her skin itches a bit, the bacta gel having absorbed quickly after Tech applied it. The cuts are already healing, hardly more than raised bumps. By tonight, there’d be no sign of them even being there.

She had protested the use of bacta on them, seeing as how they weren’t that bad and they’d probably heal well on their own, but after seeing the looks on their faces, she had quickly given up. She hasn’t seen them that protective in a long time.

It makes sense, though.

They’re entirely on their own now. They don’t have the GAR to fall back on. If something happens to one of them, they only have each other to fix it.

She slips some credits into her bag before tossing it over her shoulder. She leaves her room, making her way towards the ramp.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Hunter asks, stepping in her way.

“Supply run.” She answers simply.

“By yourself?”

She gives him a look. “Uh, yeah. That was the plan.”

“You’re going to wander around an unknown city by yourself.” Hunter lifts an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah.” She shrugs. “We need to stock up on some things.”

“She is right.” Tech says, stepping up behind her. “We are running low on medical supplies, as well as hygiene products.”

“Not that any of you use them.” She murmurs. “Plus if we’re going to be spending time here, I’d like to get to know the city a bit better.”

“Let one of us go.” Hunter says.

“Uh, no.” Midnight says, Hunter giving her a taken-aback look at her outward defiance. “I’m going. I am the least recognizable of all of us.”

“She has a point.” Tech says from behind her.

Hunter stares at her for a moment before his shoulders slump and he sighs. “Don’t wander too long.”

“Can I go?” Omega asks, all of them turning to look at her.

Midnight looks to Hunter, shrugging. Hunter looks down at Omega before sighing. “Fine. But stick close to Midnight and don’t wander-”

“Keep a close eye on my surroundings and trust no one but my squad. And I’ll use my comm and give my location if I get into trouble, I know.” She says.

“Quick learner.” Midnight smirks.

“Be careful.” Hunter says, wrapping an arm around Midnight’s waist.

“Usually am.” She murmurs as he leans down, kissing her softly.

“Keep an eye on her.” He murmurs, kissing her again.

“Two eyes.” Midnight says. “Don’t worry. Think of this as a learning opportunity.”

She kisses Hunter one more time before slipping past him and heading for the ramp. She heads down the steps, Omega skipping happily after her.

“What was that you were doing?” She asks before they even make it out of the landing bay.

“What was what?” Midnight asks.

“You and Hunter. I saw you and Wrecker doing it earlier too.” She says.

“Oh.” Midnight blinks, trying to figure out how to explain it. “We were kissing.”

“What’s that?”

Midnight lets out a long breath. “Well, it’s something you do when you love someone. It’s one way to show it.”

“Oh.” She says, going quiet for a moment. “What’s love?”

Midnight laughs. “That’s a complex conversation for another time.” Midnight puts a hand on Omega’s shoulder, stopping her at an intersection. “Keep close. Don’t stare at anyone too long, and try not to make eye contact. We’re trying to be discreet.”

Omega nods. “Right.”

Midnight pats her shoulder. “Come on. This way.”

She leads Omega down a street, walking slowly as she looks up at the sky. It’s visible between the buildings, starting to go yellow with the setting sun. Midnight smiles softly, dropping her gaze back to the street in front of her. “Reminds me a bit of home.” She says, skirting around a drunk weequay on the street.

“Where are you from?” Omega asks, looking up at her.

“I’m from Coruscant. Born and raised there.”

“Is it a nice place?” Omega asks.

Midnight laughs. “Well, depends on how you look at it. The entire planet is one big city.”

“Wow.” Omega breathes. “There must be a lot of people there.”

Midnight nods. “Close to three trillion, it’s estimated. Though, most of them are very poor and live in the lower levels. There’s lots of crime down there, since the police can’t and don’t bother to help. I grew up so far down, I didn’t see the sky until I joined the GAR. Spent my whole life in artificial sunlight. I’d never seen dirt or a real tree until I got off Coruscant, either.”

“You’re like me.” Omega says. “I spent my whole life in a lab on Kamino. I didn’t get to wander often. I didn’t really want to, either.”

Midnight snorts. “I don’t blame you. Some of those regs had some nasty attitudes.”

“Yeah they did.” She laughs.

They walk in silence for a few moments. “How did you know about me? When you approached us on Kamino, you knew my name.”

“Well, you’re sort of famous.” Omega says sheepishly.

“I am?” Midnight asks in disbelief.

“Yeah. You’re a member of Clone Force 99 and you’re not a clone.” Omega shrugs. “They talked about you all the time. Tarkin asked about you too.”

Midnight grimaces. “I’m sure he did. He really wanted me to join his squad.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” Omega says. “They really care about you a lot.”

Midnight nods. “Well, we’ve been through a lot together.” She nods. “I care a lot about them too.” She nudges Omega gently. “And you.”

“Me?” She asks in disbelief.

Midnight nods. “Of course. You’re part of the squad too.”

Omega smiles. “I’ve never had a sister before.”

Midnight blinks in surprise. Of course, the boys would technically be her brothers, as they were all clones. Even though Midnight’s not a clone, she had integrated herself into the squad rather successfully it seemed, to the point Omega had known who she was.

“I haven’t had one either.” She says, slowing as they reach the shop selling medical supplies.

She leads Omega inside, making quick work of grabbing what they need. They head on to the next store, picking up more personal items and some hygiene products, not that the guys would use them regularly.

“We should get some food.” Midnight says as they pass by a few food vendors. “I know the guys have to be hungry.”

Omega stares wide eyed at all the choices. “These look so much better than rations.”

Midnight smiles. “They are.” She wraps an arm around Omega’s shoulders, leading her towards one of the stalls. “Maybe someday we’ll get to eat food like this all the time.”

“Really?” Omega asks, blinking up at her.

Midnight nods. “Someday when we can put this bounty hunter business behind us and find somewhere nice to settle down.”

“That sounds fantastic.” Omega says dreamily.

Midnight nods. “It does. It really does.”

Taglist:

@amyroswell, @dangraccoon, @hunnythebee, @lokigirlszendaya, @kriffingmeshla, @storm-breaker7

#star wars #star wars fic #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #the bad batch x reader #poly bad batch #tbb x reader

78 notes · View notes

uhlatcha · 2 months

Text

BEGINNING OF END - ATEEZ DREAM CATCHER AU - CHAPTER ONE: MINJI'S DREAM

AO3 | WATTPAD | MASTERLIST | PLAYLIST

STORY SUMMARY: A group of teenager boys found confort in each other and in the dreams they share, but what they don't know is that a group of girls in a boarding school not far from their city, who hide a powerful secret can change completely their lives, puting not only their dreams in danger, but also the destiny of the world.

FANDOMS: DREAMCATCHER AND ATEEZ

WORD COUNT: 2352

GENRE: FANFIC, SCIFI, FANTASY, MISTERY.

DISCLAIMER:

This is a work of fiction influenced by Ateez and Dreamcatcher respective lores. I used a lot of references and canon stuff, but also made some changes so both worlds can work together.

NOTES: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, ANY FEEDBACKAS ARE WELCOME.

CHAPTER ONE: MINJI'S DREAM.

The dream was always the same. A younger version of Minji was sitting in a large room in what appears to be an abandoned warehouse. The place was completely dark, except for the light coming in from a skylight in the ceiling.

She is sitting at the table in the center of the room, on which there is a book. The blue leather-bound volume had a curious symbol engraved on the cover, an hourglass in the center of a circle very similar to a globe.

"The universe is divided into many dimensions." It's the phrase on the first page of the book, and when she turns the page, she finds once again the drawing of an hourglass, this time, hand painted on the page covered with characters that she didn't have time to read, because her attention was attracted by the sound of footsteps echoing through the warehouse.

As she looks towards the sound of steps, she sees a silhouette emerging from the shadows, walking towards her. Her heart tightens, it's as if suddenly she can't move. As she gets closer, she realizes that the silhouette belongs to a boy. He would look very normal if it wasn't for his blue hair.

Dressed in black and carrying the curious object portrayed in the book, the blue-haired boy calmly approaches Minji, a faint smile on his lips, as if to transpose her.

She feels like she should run, that's what she wants to do, but her body simply won't move, so she continues sitting, just staring at the boy, who just reaches the light, extends his hand, nodding his head so that the girl takes the golden hourglass he carries.

Minji reaches out and takes the artifact. The boy smiles at her and nods. He doesn't say anything, but something seems to click when the girl picks up the artifact, as if the object should be with her. The boy takes a step back and a bluish light begins to emanate from the hourglass and Minji wakes up, sweating and panting, sitting up in bed in a sudden movement.

"Are you okay?" Siyeon, who was sitting on the bed on the other side of the room with a book resting on her knees and a small flashlight in her hands, asked.

Minji nodded. She didn't remember the first time she had that dream, but it had been with her for years. And the feeling she had when she woke up was always the same. That she couldn't escape, that even in the real world, when she was awake, he would find her. The blue haired-boy.

Which was ridiculous, since Minji had never seen anyone even remotely similar to the blue-haired boy in her dreams. How could someone who didn't exist pursue her? Persecution didn't seem like the most logical word to describe the situation, but that was exactly how she felt.

Siyeon was still staring at her, more curious than worried, she pointed the flashlight at her roommate, who squinted her eyes.

"Had a nightmare?" She asked.

"Kinda." Minji answered, with a confused expression.

"How can you kinda have a nightmare?" Siyeon asked and Minji just shrugged, trying to find a more comfortable position on the bed.

She signaled to her friend that she was going to go back to sleep, or at least try, and instructed her to do the same. Siyeon agreed that she should,since the light might bother Minji and their new roommate, the girl who arrived at the mansion that week, and still didn't exchange a word with any of the girls from the school.

But it still took her a while to abandon the book in her lap, she had to finish it, since it would be discussed the next day at the book club, a book that she should have already finished, but wasn't even halfway through, what made her worried that Sua would get mad at her for not finishing the reading in time.

What she didn't know was that Sua hadn't finished the book either, and was very busy at that exact moment, in another corner of the mansion, with other books and a not-so-benevolent purpose.

****

"Maybe she can't speak, just like Minji?" Gahyeon suggested.

"Gahyeon!" Handong scolded the girl, poking her with the elbow. "You shouldn't say things like this."

The girls were at their usual table at the mansion cafeteria, and Minji was sitting right in front of Gahyeon, drinking a cup of tea, beside her, Yoohyeon, Minji's best friend, was looking with an annoyed face at Gahyeon.

"I'm not mocking her or being mean." Gahyeon protested "Is it wrong to say the truth now?"

Handong couldn't believe the youngest. She just turned to Mnji, saying that she was sorry for her friend's behavior. Minji just brushes it away. Gahyeon wasn't trying to hurt her, they were friends, she was just a little unconsciously mean from time to time, a lot of the richest girls were sometimes, but it wasn't the case at that moment. And it wasn't like she said something wrong, MInji couldn't talk, she was mute. But assuming the new girl was mute too just cause she didn't approach anyone, was kind of wrong.

"Maybe she's just really shy, or nervous." Siyeon suggested "It's normal not to feel so comfortable around new people."

They were talking about the new girl, the one who was sharing the room with Minji and Siyeon. She arrived at the beginning of the week, and all the girls knew about her was her name: Dami.

The girl was attending all classes since she arrived, but never talked to anyone, even to the teachers, she just ignored everyone and kept walking alone through the school.

"I heard she came from a mental hospital." Gahyeon whispered.

"Okay, I had enough of you for today." Yoohyeon said, getting up.

"What? I'm just saying what I heard." Gahyeon protested.

"You shouldn't spread everything you heard from your rich mean friends." Yoohyeon scolded her.Then she turned to Minji. "I see you in class."

"Are you coming to the book club meeting later?" Siyeon asked as the girl walked away. "Sua will get mad if you don't."

"I'll be there." She answered without turning around.

Siyeon sighed, less worried.

"Where is she, by the way?" Minji asked, not obtaining an answer. The one who could give an answer was the one who just left: Yoohyeon, who was Sua's roommate.

"She's probably in the library, or in the photography club room." Handong pointed. "She's spending a lot of time there lately working on a project."

"I don't understand how she stands to stay in that dark room for so long. I find that room suffocating." Gahyeon commented.

"I have to agree with you on that." Siyeon said. She was still with the book in hand, now a lot more close to the end. She would have finished it by the evening before dinner when the book club meeting was scheduled.

The bell announcing the end of the breakfast and beginning of classes rang, interrupting the girl's conversation. The girls started to get up with their trails.

"Are we going to the corner shop tonight?" Gahyeon whispered to Minji after they left the cafeteria. "I'm running out of snacks."

"I don't think it is a good idea." Minji pointed out.

"But it has been more than two weeks since the designated break! We always go to the corner shop after the book club meetings!" Gahyeon sulked.

"I think Minji is right." Handong pointed out "We can't go out and break the curfew when there is someone else we don't know well enough sleeping in their room.What if the new girl snitches us?"

"WAIT?" Gahyeon said. making the other three girls stop in the hallway. "So you having a new roommate we don't trust means we are never going to sneak out of the academy again? UNTIL WE GRADUATE?"

"I hadn't thought about it." Minji pointed out, seeming worried about that possibility.

"We need a solution, really quick." Siyeon said, as the girls headed to their respective classes.

****

"So hum... Dami, how were your first days?" The counselor asked.

Dami was sitting in his fancy office, the room filled with bookshelves would be very cozy and inviting if the circumstances were different. The counselor seemed like a decent guy. Hair well cut and neat, clothes clean and ironed. He wore a placid expression as he watched, waiting for an answer that didn't come.

It didn't matter that he seemed like a nice person, she had already learned not to trust anyone. Dami didn't want to talk about how her first week had been. In fact, she didn't want to talk about anything.

And yet, everyone around her continued to direct questions at her.

What is your name? Where are you from? Why are you here? Do you want to sit with us? Almost everyone at the academy seemed so friendly, always kind and curious, willing to help her with whatever she needed. Of course there were also some people talking shit on her back. She heard some girls in the bathroom speculating about her and the circumstances that led her there. But they were a minority, as far as she knew.

She didn't expect that when she found out she was going to a boarding school. She expected spoiled rich girls, hateful teachers and a horrible place.But the academy was a pleasant place, an old house but very well maintained and cared for.

Many of the girls who lived and studied there were very rich indeed, but there were also girls like Dami, who were lucky enough to end up there after not very fortunate circumstances.And they all recognized how lucky they were to be there, being well cared for and receiving a good education.

Everything there seemed perfect, and that was what bothered Dami the most. How could a place like that exist?

Coming from where she came from, after what she'd been through, all the perfection of that place seemed elusive. The real world wasn't like that, was it?

"I know new beginnings can be difficult" the man who seemed to realize he wouldn't get an answer began "But I hope you start to feel at home here soon."

Home... Dami didn't understand the meaning of that word.

"I'm sure the girls are excited to meet you." he guaranteed. "Your roommates..."

"About that" Dami spoke for the first time, causing the man's eyes to light up.

"Can I have a room of my own?"

The glint in the counselor's eyes disappeared.

"The girls weren't nice to you?" he wanted to know.

"Quite the opposite" She had to admit it "They are very kind and polite."

The counselor smiled, proud of his choice to her roommates. But soon his smile faded in confusion.

"But if they are so nice, why do you want a room of your own?" he wanted to know.

"I still don't feel comfortable sharing a room after... You know." she didn't finished the sentence, she didn't had to, he knew what she was talking about. "I'm not sleeping well yet, and when I fall asleep... Sleepwalking starts again."

"Are you still having sleepwalking episodes?" he asked, worried, taking notes on his notepad.

"Yes." Dami lied. She hadn't had any sleepwalking episodes since arriving at the academy, at least she hadn't had any signs of it when she woke up, but she didn't want to share a room, so she needed a convincing excuse.

"It could be dangerous to the girls, I don't want to hurt anyone" she added.The counselor pondered for a moment.

"Having roommates is important for your socialization." He commented "But if sleepwalking worries you I can see if we can get you a private room. On one condition.

Of course, everything was going too well as she'd planned.

"You need to socialize in other ways... Join a club, maybe?" he suggested.

Dami didn't want to socialize, she wanted to stay as far away from everyone as possible, until she could think of a way to escape that place.

"I can try," she agreed, just to try to reel the man in.

"That's great" the counselor said, opening one of the drawers in his desk and taking out a sheet which he handed to the girl. "You can choose and fill out the form." he said, handing her the list of clubs and sports teams. He really wasn't willing to be tricked, but Dami wasn't about to give up a room of her own, so she skimmed through the list, analyzing the available options. Dancing, music, volleyball, photography... Everything seemed to require a lot of effort, until her eyes found the right words.

"Reading Club". she announced, and the man smiled, satisfied, handing her a form to fill out.

"That's great" he said "I'll ask Siyeon, your roommate, to accompany you to your first club meeting, she's one of the founders of the club, she'll be very happy to welcome you as a new member."

Dami didn't answer. She wasn't the least bit interested in the club, she just thought it would be the easiest to deal with on the list.

"Actually, I think they have a meeting tonight before dinner." the counselor announced, making her even more disappointed with her decision. "You will love it, the girls are very smart and always choose amazing books."

She wasn't really interest in all of that, bit she would have to pretend for a while if she wanted to be free. And God, how she wanted it.

****

Sua caressed the black leather cover of the book she was holding. It was a really old and rare exhibit. She had been taking care of the book for a while but soon it would be in someone's else hands.

It was almost time.That was all Sua could think about. She had been working on that for so long...

She was stuck in her own world when the bell announcing the beginning of classes rang. She had to go to class, so she protected the book, putting it on a velvet bag and hide it in one of the drawers of the studio table, locking it with a key.

If anyone entered the photography club room, they wouldn't find the book. Not that anyone wanted to be in that room recently, or that anyone could do something with the book.

She left the room and ran to her class. She still had a lot to do for her project, but it had to wait. Soon everything would be ready as she planned.

1 note · View note

certifiedskywalker · 3 years

Text

Breathing Room - Bucky Barnes

Thanks to Sharon’s new profession, you have a chance to catch your breath in Madripoor. Though, Bucky never fails at stealing it away.

WARNINGS: drinking (?) and tensiooooonnn

“I’ve never seen him look at anyone like how he looks at you. Except for Steve.”

“It’s not like that,” you persisted as you shook your head.

Ready to prove your counterpoint, you traced the path of Sharon’s pointed gaze. It landed on Bucky who, amidst the party of stiff art connoisseurs and writhing criminals, looked strangely at ease. When you let your gaze linger, you saw him shift against the far wall he was leaned on. His eyes found yours in an instant as if he had been glancing in your direction before. As if he already knew where you were stood.

Under the colored lights that seemed to flash in tune with the music, Bucky’s eyes, once bright and blue, were dark as he focused on you. Despite the heat of all those that danced, you found yourself frozen. A chill rolled up your spine and threatened to overtake you, thrust you in the depths of Bucky’s stare. Only the sound of a knowing, humming sigh freed you.

“Uh-huh, sure. It’s not like that,” Sharon echoed sarcastically. You glared at her as she moved out from behind the bar. She passed a glass of dark liquor over to you with a grin. Gently, you nudged the drink back across the counter and shook your head.

“I’m on a mission.”

“So is he,” Sharon quipped as she tipped her head towards Bucky. Steaming embarrassment rose along your skin as you glanced back over towards the super-soldier. He was no longer fixed on you. He instead squinted at Zemo as the Baron broke it down in the most awkward, display of dance you had ever seen.

“Yeah, and I’m not it.”

“You are, you just won’t admit it,” Sharon sipped at her drink before she continued. “The way he watches you...he’s ready to take a bullet for you.”

“He already has,” you sighed, gesturing to your left arm. “Vibranium, remember? He’s covered me more than once.”

“Couldn’t forget it.”

“Also, he stares at everyone.”

Sharon scoffed, a light laugh slipping from her lips. “Sure, but not like that.”

“Do you really think...he’s hard to read. I don’t know if he really means to…”

“You’re right, he might not mean to look at you like you’re his lifeline, but it doesn’t change the fact that he does.” Sharon downed the rest of her drink and rested the empty glass on the counter. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m on a mission too: to sell some art and information.”

With a wink, she sauntered away, towards a group of individuals clad in formal wear. You watched her go for a moment longer before you shifted your gaze to sneak a glance at Bucky. When you did, you found he was already looking at you, dark eyes fixed on your face. It was tough to tell in the red tones that shone down on him, but you thought you saw Bucky’s mouth quirk the slightest bit upward. Though, you did not stare long enough to see if it morphed into a full-fledged smile.

You were too aware of how your chest tightened to let yourself linger on him. Especially with Sharon’s teasing, her insights, you could not find it in yourself to stare back. Not then, not when there was a chance Bucky felt the same as you had for years, which meant both of you were too stubborn, or too wary, to say anything about it. Even the thought of it knocked the air from your lungs. You eyed the liquor Sharon had poured out for you, considered downing it to distract yourself from the new wave of nerves that washed over you. Before you stretched your fingers out towards the glass, a sudden warmth brushed against your left shoulder.

“You gonna drink that?”

You turned and saw Bucky, his side nearly pressed against yours. The scent of the cologne Sharon had forcibly sprayed on him before the party filled your nose. Fragrant balsam and clove: warm, welcoming, and enough to numb your racing thoughts. When you didn’t respond to his question, Bucky leaned in closer to you with furrowed brows.

“Y/N?” Up close, you noticed just how clear his eyes were, how wholly focused on you he was. Silently you hoped he didn’t detect the shuddering breath you took.

“Yeah,” you said as tipped your head towards the drink, “it’s all yours.”

Bucky nodded at you as he reached for the glass. As he moved, his gaze remained fixed on you and you could not tear your eyes away. The moment the lights flashed an almost natural white, you swore you saw hints of pink on Bucky’s cheeks; but before you could truly tell, the fixtures flickered between blue and red. As Bucky brought the glass to his lips, you forced your eyes to the granite countertop.

To busy your mind, distract yourself from the lure of Bucky’s presence, you traced your fingertips along some of the natural patterns on the stone’s smoothed surface. It was only when you heard the clinking of glass against the countertop over the music that you felt enough courage to face the man stood at your side. Bucky’s eyes were still trained on you when you looked back up at him, full of that same attention Sharon had noted earlier.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink before,” you remarked, “or relaxed.”

“I’m not relaxed,” Bucky said, shouting slightly to be heard over the music. You smiled as he leaned in closer to add, “I don’t think I’ve ever been. Not since….”

“The forties?”

Bucky averted his eyes from you at your teasing question and turned his gaze to the floor. “Well, yeah, honestly.”

The smallness of his voice made your heart ache. Without a moment’s thought, you reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. At your touch, Bucky met your eyes again, and then you saw it. It must have been the glint that Sharon picked up on before. A ferocity, but not one that frightened you. It was a ferocity born of passion, the same, deeply rooted feeling that forced the air from your lungs when you let yourself stare at Bucky for too long.

The passion that you had kept bottled in your chest since you met him, the real Bucky, not the Winter Soldier. It had taken so long for you to truly see him and he was just finally seeing himself. Until the party and Sharon’s observations, you hadn’t realized that maybe he was seeing you too. How long had you been blind to each other, giving each other breathing room when all you wanted was to be close?

“Honestly, I think you look good,” you said, with a confidence that surprised you.

Bucky cocked his head to the side slightly, with the faintest hints of a smile on his lips. “Really? I don’t...it’s been...I haven’t been to a party since the forties. I haven’t danced…”

“You look great, Bucky,” you pressed as you let your hand fall from his shoulder. Bucky blinked at you a few times as if trying to compute your compliments. You gave him a soft smile, an expression that he, shockingly, returned.

“So do you, Y/N.”

The way he said your name sent another chilling shiver down your spine and tightened your chest. Your breath grew ragged and you became suddenly self-conscious about the volume of your breathing. Though, when you noticed how Bucky’s chest rose and fell a bit more rapidly than before, your worries faded. They melted into the music and the smell of his, Sharon’s, cologne until all you felt was warmth and light.

“Do you want to danc-”

Before Bucky could ask his question in full, a drunken party-goer knocked into your back and sent you leaning off your stool. As you tipped forward into him, Bucky opened his arms to catch you. The cool metal of his left arm dug into your waist as your hands braced against his chest. Once you found your footing, you glanced up at Bucky.

“Are you alright?” His eyes scanned over your face as he asked. Yet, all you really heard was Sharon’s voice: he’s ready to take a bullet for you. Ready to fight for you too.

“I’m fine.”

Despite your assertion, Bucky looked past you and towards the person that had nearly knocked you over. For a moment, you saw the man that Zemo had ordered around in the Power Broker’s bar. He wasn’t your Bucky. The passion had turned to anger in his eyes. Quickly, you trailed your hands up from his chest to cup the sides of his face.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” you forced Bucky’s face to turn until his eyes found yours. “I’m fine. Are you fine?”

Bucky didn’t respond. Instead, he just stared down at you, his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again. Gently, you rubbed the pads of your thumbs along the peaks of his cheekbones. At the contact, eyes glinted and you knew he was the Bucky you loved again. The scruff that lined his jaw and grew up the sides of his face prickled and tickled the skin of your palm as he drew in closer.

Suddenly, there was no more breathing room; but you were so wonderfully okay with that. Each breath you each took mingled between you until there was no space at all. Bucky’s lips brushed softly against yours, a tentative ask for permission before you closed the gap. He tasted like whiskey as you kissed and, when his arms tightened around your waist, you felt that you might drown in him.

You were prepared to do just that when you heard someone loudly clear their throat. With a small gasp for air, you and Bucky parted and turned your attention away from the other. Sam, clad in Sharon’s spare turtle neck, stood with his arms crossed over his chest and a knowing grin on his lips. Your hands slipped from Bucky’s face and the super soldier’s arms went a little more slack around your waist.

“So, if you two are done, Sharon found Nagel.”

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, “we’ll...follow you.”

Sam glanced at you then Bucky and back again. “You really gotta work on your timing. We’re on a mission, guys. Seriously.”

Before you or Bucky could comment, Sam started off towards Zemo and Sharon. You glanced up at Bucky who seemingly sensed your eyes and looked back at you.

“He’s not wrong.”

“Don’t tell him that.”

598 notes · View notes

whythinktoomuch · 3 years

Text

Tentatively stepping through the doorway, Lena was greeted by the natural wintry gleam of the Fortress of Solitude. She had only been there that one time all those months ago, but the surroundings appeared familiar enough, seemingly burned into her memories as a particularly difficult flashbulb of an experience.

Cold. Dimmed lighting. Wide open spaces that gave off the illusion of emptiness despite holding some of the most important secrets to be kept in the world.

And in the middle of it all, stood Kara Danvers, still dressed in her Super regalia, staring off into the distance like little else mattered.

“Kara.” Lena rushed forward, the clack of her heels bouncing off the polished walls in an anxious rhythm that rivaled that of her heart.

Kara looked over, blank expression slipping slightly. “Lena?” she murmured, sounding surprised, though not at all startled. “How’d you get out?”

“… Out?” Lena echoed, but Kara didn’t elaborate. Maybe the disconnect was to be expected though, and there were more important things at stake for the moment, so, “Kara, you need to come back.”

“Back.” Kara chewed on the word, tasting the implications like they weren’t quite to her liking. Then she gave a single nod. “Oh. I see.” And with that, Kara turned her back on Lena and walked right off, right into the distance that gradually converged into a yawning doorway.

Lena had no choice but to chase after her. “I know why you’re doing this, Kara. And you have to know that it wasn’t your fault. None of it was.”

Kara didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. Her silence was already speaking volumes just by stretching on and on, running parallel to the seemingly never-ending hallway.

“Will you at least explain what you’re doing here?” Lena demanded, her patience eaten up by a sense of urgency that was somehow eluding Kara. Time was of the utmost importance—that much had been impressed upon her repeatedly and emphatically before she made this journey. “Look, I’m not going to leave until you talk to me.”

Mild amusement flitted over Kara’s features as she looked back at Lena. “How’d you even get here?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.”

Then when Kara made no move to continue their conversation, Lena sighed in exasperation, “I have my ways, okay?”

“Of course you do,” Kara said easily. “I’m just… surprised that they’d send you, of all people.”

“I volunteered to come. Well, I insisted anyway.”

Kara glanced back at her again, expression now unreadable. “We’re not even friends anymore,” she said, matter-of-fact, no malice intended or needed. “We haven’t talked for—what—six months? I guess what I’m trying to say is that, you wouldn’t have been my first pick.”

“And I’m sure the many people who were opposed to my coming here would agree,” Lena said, but Kara didn’t take the bait, falling silent once more. “Where are we going anyway? What’s down here that’s so important that you have to see it right now?”

Kara took an abrupt left turn, and the hallway opened up just as abruptly into an endless series of shut doors, all evenly spaced out along either wall. Each door was fashioned with its own nameplate, which was of little interest to Lena until she started recognizing the names. By then—trailing behind Kara, passing by doors that read James, Winn, Kal-El, and a few with lettering that could only be Kryptonian—it became all too clear why they were there.

Lena’s sense of purpose was renewed, however, when Kara walked right past a door labeled Alex without slowing. “Wait, that’s where we have to go,” she called out in realization. “We need to get to Alex, right? Right, Ka—Kara! Hey, where are you going?”

But Kara evidently wasn’t listening, her stride only cut short upon arriving at another door altogether. The door was plain and simple enough, except in that it was one of the very few without its own handle. The name Mon-El was etched into the dull gold, just barely catching in the light at eye level.

“They disappear sometimes,” Kara said. “The doorknobs, I mean. Well, the doors too, but there’s always another to replace them so… it’s hard to keep track.”

Lena tried her best to not acknowledge the predictable twinge of nausea that twisted in her stomach. “What’s in there?”

“When I could still open it, I’d just see his spaceship disappearing into the horizon.” Kara shrugged. “I’m sure there were other things too, but it’s been years.”

“… Kara, let’s get back to Alex’s door,” Lena said, clearing her throat, ridding herself of any lingering pangs of unjustified jealousy. “It still has a doorknob, so we can still get in there, right? That’s what that means?” But Kara was ignoring her. Again. “Are you even listening to me right now?”

“You say that to me a lot in here.”

And just as Lena was about to ask what the hell Kara possibly could mean by that, she noticed yet another door, just a bit farther down the hall, literally with her name on it.

“You can go in there, I think,” Kara continued, shrugging again. “There aren’t really any hard and fast rules here, but that might be the only door you can open without me.”

Lena, inevitably, took a pause.

Her door appeared more intricate the longer she studied it. The rich, glossy oak with accents of rose gold. The plumerias carved into the wood at every corner. A touch of cursive to her name, lovingly engraved across the polished nameplate. It had a delicate padlock that looked more decorative than practical, but Lena already knew that it would fall away for her, if she wanted.

Admittedly, it took a rather lengthy moment for Lena to successfully tear her eyes away from the door. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Well, there isn’t much else I can give you besides that,” Kara said, promptly moving on, venturing deeper into the hallway that only opened up to more and more hallway with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of doors.

“Kara, stop…” Lena abandoned her door to chase after Kara again. “I’m serious,” she pleaded, seizing Kara by the elbow, tugging insistently. “Let’s go through the Alex door. We can go together.”

Kara shook her head, shaking her arm when Lena refused to loosen her grip. “Let go,” she snapped, eyes briefly flashing red, and Lena unfortunately flinched away from her. Huffing hard, Kara then pivoted away, slipping through the closest door and Lena slipped in right after her before it could swing shut.

The whole world was on fire.

Proud buildings coming down in flames. Air condensed into a thick black smoke. Everyone dying around her…

Coughing, Lena was immediately forced to press her sleeve to her mouth and nose. The door was nowhere to be seen. After a more thorough survey of her surroundings, she finally noticed a slumped figure in the relative distance. It was hard to make out anything in the light of the fading red that made up the sky, but who else could it be? Lena made her way over.

Thankfully, Kara wasn’t too far. She was just sitting atop a darkened precipice, arms around her knees as she watched the world die before her.

“This…. is Krypton,” Lena said as she realized. “Kara. You can’t stay here. This can’t be healthy…”

“And you, of course, would be the resident expert on keeping healthy habits,” Kara said, and her sarcasm didn’t even need a bitter tone to land.

And that about settled it.

Lena grabbed a piece of smoldering debris—still warm, somewhat spongey, surely not fatal—and lobbed it as hard as she could at the back of Kara’s head.

The projectile bounced off harmlessly enough, but Kara slowly turned around, eyes widened. “Ow…?” She pressed a hand gingerly to the back of her head, no doubt still tender from the blow. “What are you doing? The sun isn’t yellow here!”

“None of this is even real!” Lena snapped, and to prove it, she lifted a much larger piece of debris that normally would have buckled her with its mass. When she sent that hunk of rock sailing through the air, Kara finally demonstrated some life and dove out of the way.

“What the hell, Lena?” Kara said, some frustration and thus vigor breaking through the monotony. “What are you doing here? Why did you even come?”

“I want to see what’s behind Alex’s door!” Lena threw back, just as frustrated and then some. “What is this, Kara? Behind one door, you see your home planet imploding. Behind another, you see the man you loved leaving you forever. So, what the hell could possibly be happening in the one for your sister? Whose life, by the way, is still hanging in the balance, in case you forgot.”

Kara huffed, whirling away. “That’s none of your business.”

“You made it my business by fucking off to wherever this is,” Lena said, fighting to maintain eye contact as Kara tried repeatedly to turn her back on her. “You made it my business by making me come after you! So, just do me one fucking favor, and just tell me—”

“I kill her.”

Lena fell silent, blinking, the soundtrack to her sudden hesitation coming alive in the sounds of the world burning up around her.

“I kill her in there. Over and over and over again.” Kara’s words were falling out like she couldn’t stop them, an outpouring of shame and relief rolled into one. “She dies by my hand, only to die all over again, and again, and—”

“Okay, I get it,” Lena hastily cut in. “Well, no. I don’t get it, get it, but… what do you mean you kill her? How…?”

Kara covered her face with a sharp exhale. “Lots of ways! Heat vision. Super strength. Sometimes I’m just throwing her off a building. Other times, I’m choking the life out of her with my bare….” She broke off, voice drying up. “I don’t want to go in there, okay? Stop asking me.”

“Kara, this… this is ridiculous,” Lena eventually sputtered. “Alex isn’t dead. She’s hurt bad, yeah, but how could you possibly give up on her when—”

“Because it doesn’t matter,” Kara said flatly. “Because if not now, it’ll be some other time. She’ll die, and it’s going to be all my fault.”

“But what happened to her isn’t your fault.”

Kara sighed, heavily and exhausted, and suddenly she looked every bit the lonely woman who’d lost everything in a way only few people have. “Lena… Everything down here’s my fault.”

Her entire body sagged then, and she was back on the ground, curled up and watching the horizon again. So, Lena just walked over and sat next to her.

Everything was steadily plunging into darkness. There were more cracks ripping apart the earth than there were buildings, people, or even life in general. The fire climbed higher and everything was smothered in smoke, but all Lena had to do was consider taking a clean breath of air, and she could.

“What happens when it’s over?” Lena asked.

“Just starts up all over again.”

“Okay then.”

After a while, when the sky was too obscured to distinguish from the ground, Kara directed her gaze to her own feet. “… You ever think about what yours would look like?”

“My mind palace, you mean?” Lena asked, and Kara nodded. “Oh, I already know. Boxes.”

Kara exhaled a dry chuckle or two. “Boxes? That’s it?”

“Maybe some filing cabinets too. Just to keep everything organized,” Lena said, and she was mostly joking, but also not. “Boxes just always worked for me.”

“… Is there a box in there with my name on it?”

Lena blew out a breath, shakily laughing at the self-evidence of it all. “Of course there is, Kara.” Maybe even more than one, though they didn’t have to get into that now, or ever.

“Do you want to know what happens behind your door?” Kara asked haltingly, gaze still dropped.

“Not at all. I’m sure whatever it is, I’ve imagined much worse on my own terms,” Lena said, and Kara kinda laughed again, but wouldn't disagree. “… You know what happened to Alex wasn’t your fault, right?”

“Might as well have been. Should’ve been there.”

“You can’t be everywhere at once, Kara. That can’t be expected of anyone, even Supergirl.” And when Kara gave no indication that she was listening, Lena continued with a sigh, “If Alex could be here, she’d say the same exact thing. Though I’m sure she’d include some Midvale lingo and much more swearing.”

“What’s Midvale lingo?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be above using it right now.”

Kara didn’t laugh this time, just nodded solemnly before asking, “How long have I been in here?”

“You’d been out for almost six hours when I made my way over.”

“Did Alex improve at all while I’ve been gone?”

“That’s not really a thing you can tell just by looking,” Lena said vaguely. She didn’t want to lie, but she also didn’t want to give Kara any reason to stay behind.

But Kara looked at her like she knew exactly what Lena was trying not to say. She’d always been so good at reading Lena, or maybe Lena had always been so bad at hiding things from Kara. Either way, if only it had been vice versa, maybe they’d be on better terms now.

“I don’t want to come back just to watch her die. I’ve already done that too many times in here.”

“If she does die, you’re going to regret not being there.”

The ground underneath them started to crumble and come apart, falling in on itself, and Kara watched it happen with disinterest while Lena just watched Kara. But eventually, finally, Kara seemed to come to a real decision because she carefully took Lena’s hand in hers, and Lena let her.

“… Thank you for coming,” Kara said quietly, barely audible over the world falling apart.

“Thank you for coming back.”

They watched the last of the world collapse around them, swallowing them up in a pitch darkness.

Lena jerked awake with a gasp in her corner of the room, but everyone was by Kara, clamoring around her, greeting her with words of worry and such. And Lena just nodded to herself because everything was back to being how it should.

She disengaged the electrodes and pulled the wires off her head, and Brainy appeared by her bedside to help her remove the last of it.

“You were successful,” he said. “I knew you would be. You had the best chances of getting her out of that state, though 67% of the people in this room did think differently. But thank you for bringing her back.”

“I didn’t do a thing,” Lena said honestly. She glanced down at her watch out of habit, and the numbers blurred and made little sense to her weary brain, but it was time to leave. That much was obvious. “It’s late. I should get going.”

“You don’t want to talk to Kara?”

Lena looked over, and just past Nia’s shoulder, she saw Kara staring right at her. “I think she has better things to do tonight,” she said, stepping into her heels, neatly pulling her hair into a tidy bun. “Please give our hero my best, and… keep me apprised of Alex’s condition as well.”

Pausing on her way out, Lena threw back one last glance. Kara was still staring at her. Her mouth was moving and answering questions as they were offered up by the people around her, but her eyes would only meet Lena’s from across the room. Kara half-raised her hand in a subtle gesture, and Lena took the wave for what it was and turned on her heel to leave, refusing to entertain the persistent itch to look back the entire time.

#post-reveal/fallout but pre-make-up sc is where i Live #not sure what this is but it sure is a thing huh #ALSO THE NEW POST LIMIT WOULD HAVE TOTES KNEECAPPED THIS; had to turn off the beta version to post!! >:(#i hate!!! >:(((#my words.

500 notes · View notes

mymelodyheart · 3 years

Text

Save The Date Chapter 11 ~What’s Brewing Claire?~

picture credit

Previously in Stramash ...

Jamie pulled back to look at her face and tipped her chin up to survey the cut on her lips. "He did this?"

She could only nod as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

Jamie turned the gun in his hand and marched towards the door, shouting at the police ushering Jack out to wait. Before Claire could scream for him to stop, he brought his forehead down on Jack's nose in a head butt before handing the weapon to a nearby officer. The sound of cartilage crunching echoed in the tiny room, making Claire wince. Jack fell onto his knees with a loud thud, holding his bleeding nose, shouting improprieties muffled by his hands.

"Now, that was uncalled for, Fraser," an officer clucked, but his grin and the amusement in his eyes implied he wasn't too bothered over Jack's injury. "Now go and get some rest. I'll handle the paperwork and delay the statement for tomorrow morning. You both have done enough to save the day."

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

Jamie studied Claire. She lay relaxed on the examination table, going through her phone and reading messages. She looked untroubled and seemed to have recovered from the ordeal this past weekend. The only tell-tale sign left of that hellish night was the tiny scab on her lower lip and bruising on her right cheek where Jack Randall had struck her. She was whole and safe, and yet here he was, having trouble letting go of that incident.

When he'd helplessly watched Jack shoved a gun against her neck and dragged her away from his sight, he'd felt the full gravity of her vulnerability and his inadequacy to secure her safety. But how Claire had handled the situation was nothing short of mind-blowing, albeit heart-stopping. She'd kept her presence of mind, aptly keeping Geneva talking while the tech specialist monitored the audio listening device. The moment they'd identified the voice on the phone, the administration in Broadmoor had been immediately alerted to make sure Geneva didn't go anywhere until the police arrived.

Geneva and Jack were in jail now, awaiting trial and most likely would stay there for a very long time. He really needed to stop fixating on what could have gone wrong and focus on the matter at hand, like their baby's condition and Claire's health.

He puffed out a breath and sprung onto his feet. "Ye comfy, Sassenach?"

"I'm good," she replied, without looking up from her phone screen.

"Ye ken, we can cancel the baby reveal for another day."

"I know, but I prepared so much food already."

They were having his family and closest friends over for afternoon tea to share the news of their baby. Claire had insisted on a celebration to invalidate the ordeal Geneva had put them through, determined not to allow recent events to cast a shadow over their upcoming nuptials. Jamie had thought it was too soon, but Claire had pressed that the sooner they moved forward from the incident, the better.

So last night, she'd spent the entire evening preparing shortcrust pastries, scones batter and making Victorian sponge cake. Apparently, she'd taken some lessons in baking and cooking from Mrs Fitz so that she could host parties like Jenny and his ma. It was as if her work, all the travelling she'd been doing, preparing for the wedding and recovering from trauma wasn't enough. She also needed to put up a brave front.

Though the doctor had given Claire an all-clear in London after a routine checkup, Jamie had insisted on another examination when she'd complain of spotting last night. He hadn't a clue what that had meant, but the concerned look on her face was enough for him to push her for another doctor's appointment. To his relief, she'd hardly put up a fight, and he'd immediately arranged a consultation with a private practice to speed things along since the NHS hospitals were notorious for long waits.

"I just want ye to be certain, Sassenach. That's all. I dinnae want this tea party putting a strain on ye."

Claire put her phone down and glanced up at him. "I'm pregnant, Jamie, not incapacitated. I know you're worried about the spotting, but I'm quite certain pregnant women gets them sometimes. I don't feel ill, but here we are, taking precautions."

Sighing, he moved to her side and took her hand in his. "It's just that I'm bothered about that bruise behind yer back. It looks vicious. I ken bruising looks a lot worse than it is, but I cannae help but wonder if the baby has been harmed when ye banged yer behind on those shelving units after Jack pushed ye. I'm concerned about any delayed complications. Or if the doctor in London overlooked something."

She squeezed his hand. "Your worries are valid, Jamie. The odds of miscarriage or complications might be highest in the first trimester, but I haven't had any issues." She shrugged. "Oh, well, except for the tiny spotting last night. I'm sure everything's fine. Try not to worry."

Easier said than done, Jamie thought. How could Claire sit there looking so calm? Now that she's pregnant, the world was suddenly full of threats: unpasteurised juice and dairy, soft cheeses that she loved so much, fish high in mercury, saunas and hot tubs, secondhand smoke, changing Adso's litterbox. Not to mention aunt Jocasta's bloody stories of baby-abducting fairies. He really needed to stop reading too much pregnancy information; otherwise, he'd go insane.

Claire gave him a look that said she could tell he was overthinking things.

He promptly kissed her on the lips. "Aye, I guess ye're right," he conceded. "I'm sorry for over-reacting."

The door suddenly opened, and in walked a friendly-looking middle-aged female doctor. "Hello, Claire! Dr Fiona Innes. How are we feeling today?"

"I'm good, just a bit nervous about the spotting," Claire breathed.

"Understandably." Then the doctor turned to Jamie. "And ye're..."

"James Fraser. The one who got her up the duff," he replied, taking the doctor's outstretched hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Jamie!" Claire gasped, her face crimsoning profusely.

The doctor laughed. "Hah! I like that! A good sense of humour will get ye through anything." She dragged the ultrasound monitor closer to the exam table and pulled up a stool. "So, let's get started so we can put both yer mind at ease, shall we?" She proceeded to put gloves on and prepare the probe that Jamie had the unfortunate luck of knowing already what it was for. "Now, Claire, I want ye to lie back and place yer feet in the stirrups."

Claire did as she was told while Jamie helped her ease down. He winced when he heard the sound of latex snapping over the probe. He looked away and took Claire's hand in his.

"Is this your first ultrasound visit, Mr Fraser?"

He glanced over his shoulder, thinking the doctor must have noticed the strain on his face. "Aye and no."

Dr Innes arched an eyebrow.

Jamie pointed at the probe and tried not to grimace. "I've seen a doctor used that thing on her when she was hospitalised a few weeks ago. I hadn't known what was going on then, so I walked away and let them get on with it."

"I see." The doctor refocused her attention back to Claire. "Now relax for me and big deep breaths," Dr Innes advised as she put lubricating gel on the blunt tip of the probe. "This will be a tad bit uncomfortable."

Claire shut her eyes and took a deep breath while Jamie whispered all sorts of nonsense in her ear. When her grip clenched into a tight vice, he pressed his lips on the top of her head.

A few seconds passed, and that's when he heard it. He stilled. It was loud, clear and steady. The unmistakable sound of a heartbeat coming from the monitor. It was their baby's. He let out a sharp exhale, realising he'd discovered something powerful in the tiny, vulnerable life form growing in Claire's womb.

His ma once said that the heartbeat was the first music that a child heard and that every bairn was born knowing the rhythm of their mother's song. To Jamie, this was the sound of their child's soul, the unspoken words already speaking volumes. It was as if it was saying, I'm alive and well, can you hear me?

"Weel, that sounds like a strong and healthy heartbeat there," Dr Innes remarked. "See right there?" Jamie and Claire stirred in their positions to take a better look at where the doctor was pointing. "That's yer baby."

Releasing Claire's hand, Jamie stepped closer to the monitor and tipped his head to the side, adjusting his eyes to discern the grainy image on the monitor. When he finally figured out the shape, mixed emotions began to bombard him in all directions. He felt the complexity of love at seeing a piece of himself and Claire on the screen, inspiring fierce protective instinct to kindle within him. Words like elation, joy and sobering responsibility were too meagre terms and did not give justice in describing how visceral all his emotions were.

"T-that ..." Jamie pointed an index finger at the image, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Is that a ..."

"It's not what ye think, Mr Fraser. That's the foot," Dr Innes responded briskly. She shifted the probe at a different angle to capture another image. "As far as I can see, everything seems to be in perfect working order. I can safely say ye have a healthy, strong baby, so ye can both rest easy."

Jamie continued to stare at the monitor, still trying to wrap the idea of impending fatherhood around his head. "The baby is no' missing any parts, is it?"

"The baby has everything it should have at this stage of the pregnancy," the doctor replied, amused. "Though I think we'll need another few weeks to be able to tell the gender."

"Thank you so much, doctor," Claire said gratefully, pushing herself upright. "We were worried about the spotting and thought it might have had to do with the stress and trauma of what happened last weekend. It was mad, really. I nearly got abducted and had a gun pointed at me."

The doctor threw the probe's latex into the waste and began peeling off her gloves, seemingly unaffected by what Claire had just revealed, making Jamie think physicians were used to hearing such stories. The doctor gave them both an understanding look. "Having a gun pointed at ye is quite jarring, so I understand why ye're both concerned. So how are ye coping mentally?"

"I try not to dwell on it and carry on as usual," Claire shrugged. "So far, I'm dealing with it fine."

The doctor looked at Claire curiously, her expression full of empathy. "Sometimes ignoring it isn't as cut and dried as you think. Try and get some counselling. Ye're going to deal enough with all the hormones impacting yer physiological, physical and mental well being. This is the time to be enjoying this exciting time in yer life, so counselling is just taking a precautionary step to ensure you are in a good place and prepared for what the next few months will throw at ye."

Jamie locked eyes with Claire, and a silent agreement passed between them. They both understood the impact of a traumatising experience, and he wanted to take the doctor's advice on board.

"I'll make sure she and the baby are well taken care of," he reassured the doctor, patting Claire's thigh.

"I'm sure ye will," the doctor smiled, pressing buttons on the monitor.

"Let's just hope he won't go over the top," Claire added. "He has a tendency to do that."

The doctor pulled out copies of ultrasound images from the printer and glanced up at Jamie. "I can understand the need to protect, but just bear in mind, us women are more resilient and stronger than we look," she pointed out. "And pregnant women aren't as frail as society perceives them to be."

Jamie laughed. "There's no question about that. After all, my wife-to-be here achieved what twenty-four specialist firearms officers could not."

"Oh?" Dr Innes looked surprised. "And what was that?"

"She single-handedly took down a maximum-security prisoner escapee, helped led the police to his psychopathic accomplice and in the process saved an innocent mistakenly imprisoned," Jamie explained. "I ken it was a foolish move with her being pregnant and all ..."

"It might have been foolish, but I happen to believe Claire's response is inherent in all mothers and mothers-to-be, and it's something almost impossible for the human brain to override."

"Och, aye?"

"It's called maternal instinct, Mr Fraser, and it's as old as life itself." Dr Innes got up and handed him an envelope containing the ultrasound images. "So woe to anyone who dares a mother-to-be or new mother harm because they're utterly more ferocious than any man wielding a gun when it comes to defending their nest." She looked between him and Claire and smiled. "Anyway, congratulations to you both on your coming parenthood." Then she faced Jamie and patted him on the shoulder. "And as for ye, congratulations on yer newly acquired bodyguard. Ye can sleep well tonight."

..........

Jamie walked in and placed the last of their shopping bags onto the kitchen counter. "Is there anything else ye need, Sassenach, before I go?"

Claire felt him approach and busied herself, placing apples in a large bowl and then lemons in another. "Umm ...I think I have everything I need." She felt his eyes boring into her back but tried her best not to get distracted. "Shall I make a sandwich to take with you?"

"No, I'm no' hungry."

"Oh, alright ...I guess I shall see you later then."

"I have a few minutes to spare. Want to talk?"

"Talk about what?"

"What ye're feeling. Ye haven't said much all morning ...since we left the clinic. And ye hardly talked to me while we went food shopping."

She took out a knife and honing steel from a drawer and went through the motion of sharpening the blade. "Oh ...I guess I must have been preoccupied with my mental to-do list. That's all."

A long silence ensued, and after what felt like an eternity, he let out an exasperated sigh. "Sassenach, can ye stop what ye're doing for a minute and look at me?"

Hot tears suddenly settled behind her eyes, but she fiercely blinked them back and breathed deeply, swallowing down conflicting emotions and refusing to let them fall. She didn't want to be the type of woman who cried at the littlest and inconsequential thing. She'd never been a crier before, and she wasn't about to become one if she could help it.

"I'm busy, Jamie."

"Please."

Bracing herself, she placed down her utensils and faced him. "What is it?"

"This ..." Jamie waved his hand at the shopping bags on the counter. "I ken what this is. Ye havenae sat still ever since we came back from our trip. Ye've decluttered our bedroom and cleaned out all the kitchen cupboards. And now an afternoon tea party? I ken what ye're doing. Ye're keeping yersel' busy to forget what happened in London instead of talking about it."

"No." She shook her head. "It's not that."

Jamie impatiently rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. "Weel, what is up with ye then?"

"Hormones."

"Hormones," Jamie echoed. "Why did you no' just say so?"

She felt her face heat up. "I don't know. Maybe I didn't know it at the time. Or perhaps, because it all seems so silly that I'm getting all worked up for nothing."

Jamie stepped closer and braced her cheeks with both hands, a calloused thumb tenderly swiping her lower lip. "Listen to me very carefully. Whatever ye're feeling or going through, hormonal or not, is never silly. Everything ye have to say is important to me. Trust me on that. I always want to know if something is bothering ye and be able to help ye fix it. Yer body is going through many changes, and it's normal yer emotions are all over the place. So no more self-deprecating thoughts about yer feelings. Am I making myself clear?"

She pursed her lips and nodded, tamping down the urge to cry.

"Very well then, tell me what's going through that mind of yers. At least we can clear the air between us before I go, and my whole family comes and start noticing that something isnae right. Today is supposed to be a celebration of our baby. I dinnae want anything to ruin this day in as much as I think we should delay this for another time."

"Fine." She shut her eyes to search for the right words, but no matter how she formulated them in her head, it didn't sound right. Saying it out loud would only make her appear pathetic. But there was no way around it once Jamie set his mind in extracting something from her.

"Sassenach?"

Her eyes flew open. "Yes?"

"Yer face is getting redder by the second. I'm beginning to worry."

"Very well, if you must know ..." She blew out a breath. "You haven't touched me since that night in London, that's what," she blurted out. "I feel like you're avoiding me. Every time it was time for us to go to bed, you always had some excuse, like you haven't walked the dog or you need to check the emails." Unable to hold it back any longer, she suddenly burst out crying. "I know it's hormones talking, and I'm acting silly. But I can't help but feel the way I feel because I'm hormonal and horny. That's why I'm keeping myself busy, so I will not overthink things. Because if I did, I'd start believing you don't want me anymore, even if logic says it's not true. Happy now?"

He blinked rapidly as if his brain was short-circuiting.

"Yeah, just the reaction I knew I was going to get. See what I mean when I said I was acting silly?"

"No," he groaned out loud. "Sweet baby Jesus! Ye cannae say things like horny when I have to go."

Claire slapped Jamie on the chest. "Jamie! You wanted to know what was wrong! Now that I've said it, you can't blame me for it!"

"Cancel the tea party, and I'll tell Willie I'll be late!"

"No!"

"Why no'?"

"Because!"

With a deep groan, he grabbed her neck from behind and gave her a hard kiss. There was nothing tender or playful about it, just a desperate act of trying to get his fill. He let out a frustrated moan as his tongue swept in her mouth, and a hand cupped her breast, his arousal hard and thick against her belly, letting her know how much he wanted her. When he finally broke the kiss, they were both gasping for air. He pressed their foreheads together, breathing harshly into her face. "How could ye think, even in yer hormonal state, I dinnae want ye any more? Damn it, Sassenach, I've been aching for ye these past few days."

"Then why didn't you touch me?"

He shook his head as he attempted to even his breath. "That night in London, after I took ye back to the hotel, I wanted to bury myself deep inside ye so I could remind myself that ye're really alive and back in my arms. But when I saw that bruising behind yer back and knowing what ye've just been through in yer pregnant state, I thought if I took ye right there and then, I might cause ye irreparable damage, physically and psychologically. I wanted to make sure ye're properly healed first and that our baby was safe. God, all those nights I was away from our bed, I've been doing push-ups to release all those pent-up frustrations of not being able to make love to ye."

"So you did want me all along ..."

He tapped her nose. "Aye, ye silly goose."

"Oh Jamie," she sighed. "You still don't get it, do you?" She placed a hand against his face and smiled for the first time that morning.

"Get what?" he asked, looking suddenly confused.

"You should know by now, lovemaking is the best stress reliever. I thought you knew that."

"Weel ..."

"Remember the times when you were all worked up and conflicted, and how much better you felt after sex?" When he nodded, she pressed on. "Whenever you and I have sex, whether it's fast, hard, long or a quickie, it always came from a place of love. And we've talked about this before ...love heals. The most wonderful thing about our lovemaking, it puts us in that intimate space where we can better connect, heal, open us to those hard conversations, helping us in the process to find closure and release. If sex worked for you to ease your stress, why should it be any different for me? I needed you most after that horrendous night, Jamie. I needed your body to ground me. But I understand now why you didn't touch me that night."

Jamie stared at the ceiling and sighed before looking at her with a mixture of wonderment and torment. He let out a pained laugh. "Weel, right now, I'm under a lot of stress and pressure." He took her hand and placed it on his bulging arousal to make a point. "How about we continue this in the bedroom and let off some steam? I'm stressed, and ye're horny. Ideal combo! Ye can use my body anyway ye want."

Claire clucked her tongue and planted a quick kiss on his lips. "Oh, no, you don't, you sneaky, Scot! You're running late as it is." She placed both hands on his chest and began pushing him out of the kitchen. "How about you let me get on with food preparation, and you finish what you need to do so you can come home as soon as you can in time for the tea party?" she proposed.

"How about my stress levels?" he grumbled.

"Your stress levels are fine!" She turned him around and smacked him on the bum. "Now go. Mrs Fitz will be here any minute to bring the Battenberg cake I ordered."

At the mention of Mrs Fitz, Jamie didn't need any more prodding. He gave her another quick kiss and left the cottage, muttering something about getting a new house before slamming the door behind him.

..........

The rest of the morning and early afternoon passed by quick, and something in Claire lightened even though she was a nervous wreck hosting her first traditional English tea party.

She looked at the kitchen counter laden with several tiered plates displaying the delicacies she'd meticulously prepared. She was ready, and everything looked perfect.

She'd made four different tea sandwiches to be on the safe side: pear and stilton, cucumber and cream cheese, egg salad, and smoked salmon and dill. And then there were scones, lemon curd tartlets, fruit tarts, and shortbread and Linzer cookies she was looking forward to gorge on. On the other end of the counter were Mrs Fitz's Battenberg cake and Claire's pièce de résistance, Victoria's sponge filled with jam, berries and double cream. Her teabox was neatly packed with Darjeeling, Earl Grey, and Assam, and the pitchers of lavender and elderflower lemonade were cooling nicely in the fridge.

Perfection!

She was about to wash the sink when she heard a rap on the window. She looked up and saw Jenny waving at her. Letting her in through the kitchen back door, she was surprised to see her carrying a stack of real estate pamphlets and magazines with its pages tabbed with colourful sticky notes.

"Jen! What's all that?"

Jenny shrugged. "Weel, after what happened to ye in London and with everything going on at the moment, I thought I'd make yer life easier." She plonked down her load on a nearby stool and picked up a magazine, leafing through the pages. "I heard from Willie ye and Jamie are looking for a bigger place. So I decided to grab all these. It has listings of every available property for sale in the surrounding area. Ma and I saved the pages we thought ye and Jamie might like."

"Oh, Jen!" Claire gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

Jenny waved a hand. "Think nothing of it!"

Feeling emotional, Claire gave Jenny a big hug. "That's very thoughtful of you. Thank you so much." When she finally broke away from their embrace, she noticed deep furrows on Jenny's forehead. "Jen? What's wrong?"

Jenny's usually brilliant blue eyes suddenly looked serious as they landed on the bruising on her cheek. "Does that still hurt?"

Claire touched her cheek. "Oh, this? No, not at all. It looks worse than it is. Poor Jamie getting all these weird looks when we're out and about. He was even accused by some granny of being an abuser. I can understand why but I had to step in and explain to the old dear."

Jenny wrung her hands and gave her a small smile. "Actually, I -I came early because I wanted to talk with ye. Just us two."

"Oh, do you want a drink first?" Claire offered, jerking a thumb in the direction of the fridge. "I have some lemonade ..."

"No! Please! I need to get this out before anything else."

Claire nodded. "Alright then, I'm all ears."

"I-I want to apologise for ..." Jenny's chin crumpled, seemingly attempting to blink back her tears. " ...for what happened to ye in London."

"Wot? Oh, Jen! Why are you apologising? That wasn't your fault."

Jenny raised a hand, which told Claire to let her talk. "It was in some ways my fault, Claire. Geneva was my friend, and I tried to push Jamie and her together. I shouldn't have told her last year there was a vacancy in the village, and then she wouldn't have come back and pursued her interest in my brother. I honestly had no idea she was capable of such horrid deeds. If I'd known, I wouldn't have taken her into my circle of friends and family."

Claire shook her head. "No one could have known, and no one knew. Even her work colleagues and peers were shocked when they found out what she's done. She's a master manipulator, Jen, and she probably manipulated you too under the guise of friendship."

"Still ..." Jenny insisted. "If it wasn't for my meddling ..."

"Stop right there!" Claire wagged a finger at Jenny. "We've locked horns on the subject before and moved on from that already. Alright? Past is past. We all make mistakes. The most important thing is we learn from it. So no more mention of Geneva."

This time Jenny's smile reached her eyes. "Fine! Just dinnae tell Jamie we talked about this."

"Whyever not?"

"Jamie has given everyone in the family strict orders, not to mention about London today."

"Really?"

Jenny nodded. "He didn't want to ruin today's celebration rehashing what happened. Unfortunately, I had to in order for me to apologise, but enough of that now." She clapped her hands. "So, how about that drink. I'm parched." She whirled around and stopped, her eyes widening when she saw the spread Claire had prepared. Walking over to the kitchen counter, she took in everything with a smile. "Goodness, did ye make all these?"

Claire smiled with pride. "I did. Except for the Battenberg cake. Mrs Fitz made it."

"Ye said, ye didnae know how to bake," Jenny said almost begrudgingly.

"Now I do, thanks to the wifey Bootcamp I attended, also known as Mrs Fitz's kitchen."

"These all look scrumptious. It's been ages since I had a proper English afternoon tea." Jenny glanced up at her and grinned. "So, what are we celebrating?"

Claire nearly blurted out the baby news, but she quickly caught herself. Sliding an arm around her soon-to-be sister-in-law, she walked Jenny to the end of the counter to show her the sponge cake. "Today, we're celebrating love, friends and family."

Jenny poked a finger into the clotted cream and licked. "I like the sound of that. That'll always be a perfect excuse for a celebration or a proper afternoon tea party."

Claire smiled. "I couldn't agree more, Jen. I couldn't agree more."

..........

Jamie came home from work and noticed all the sandwiches, tarts and cakes laid out on the kitchen counter. He was mildly astonished that Claire had been able to prepare so much in the nick of time. He glanced out the window and spied her and Jenny in the garden, busily arranging tablecloths on the long wooden table. Looking at his watch, he realised he had about fifteen minutes to get ready before their friends and family started arriving.

But first things first.

Stepping out into the backyard, he snuck behind Claire and wrapped his arms around her waist, planting a soft kiss on her neck. "Mmm, ye smell of berries, lemon and lavender," he whispered, running his lips on her bare skin and ignoring Jenny's mumbling about getting a room.

Claire turned in his hold and smiled up at him. "And you reek, mister. You won't be served tea smelling like that."

"Fancy a shower with me then?" he suggested, feeling mischievous. "Jen's here to look out for guests."

"Nice try, but I had a shower already, and Jen is our guest today."

He leaned down and nibbled her earlobe, making her squeal.

"Jamie, you're going to get my dress dirty. Oh, fiddlesticks ..." She suddenly stilled mid-laughter and made a face, her hand covering her nose. "Urgh ...what's that smell?"

Jamie let her go and took a whiff of his shirt. "Oh, it's just a bit of wood stain I was working with. It'll come off in a wash."

Her face suddenly turned pale. "Oh, God, I think I'm going to be sick. Tell Jen I'll be right back ...and you ...you go have a shower before your parents arrive." With that, she spun around and ran back to the cottage.

Stunned, he watched her disappearing form and whistled under his breath. "What just happened?" he muttered, even though he knew the answer had to do with the dreaded pregnancy sickness. She'd been doing so well so far he almost thought morning sickness was nothing but a myth, even though Claire had revealed, she couldn't stand the smell of aniseed, star anise, fennel, and liquorice.

"Maybe, she's pregnant and suffering from sickness?" Jenny replied, walking past him with an armful of wildflowers to put into the empty vases dotted on the wooden table.

He hadn't realised Jenny had returned from wherever she'd disappeared to. He needed to be careful not to reveal their baby news too soon, or the surprise would be ruined. Jenny was simply someone who couldn't keep a secret.

"Ach, I should have known chemical smells always make her nauseous," he explained, not wanting to give too much away to his perceptive sister.

Jenny twitched her lips from side to side as she trimmed the bouquet's stems with pruning shears. "Aye, that will be right!" she smirked.

He glared at his sister. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged and gave him a knowing look. "Nothing! Now go have a shower, and I'll take care of things here until Claire feels better."

Jamie was about to say more when he heard the sound of a car parking in the driveway. As Jenny made a move to take a look, he quickly made a beeline back to the cottage before anyone saw him, hoping Claire had already recovered from her bout of sickness.

..........

Jamie leaned back on his chair and glanced around. It was a perfect summer late afternoon, and everyone seemed to be having a great time and enjoying the food Claire had prepared. The sun warmed his face and bathed the garden in dazzling light, making the different shades of green and the profusion of wildflowers more vibrant and alive. The chatter was lively, and funnily enough, no one complained about the lack of alcohol which was highly unusual for a gathering in Scotland. But, he suspected his godfather must have a flask of whisky or something similar tucked away somewhere as he was getting louder and more boisterous as time went by.

He took Claire's hand in his, and she turned his way and smiled. Her face looked pale, but there was an aura of tranquillity radiating from her that told him she was happy and content. Though her plate was full of food, it remained untouched, and if anyone had noticed, no one said anything. "How are ye feeling, Sassenach?"

She took a huge deep breath, held it in for a few seconds and then relaxed. "I'm fine," she sighed. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?"

He knew she was valiantly fighting back the sickness that must be creating havoc in her body but was too stubborn to give in to it. "Shall we tell them about the surprise so you can finally have a rest?" he suggested in a low voice, so no one would hear. "It cannae be comfortable sitting here when ye feel so unwell."

She shook her head as she gulped in more air. "I want to wait for uncle Lamb. He'll be here soon."

Quentin's plane from Athens should have arrived four hours ago but was delayed because of some mechanical issues. Jamie hoped for Claire's sake Quentin was on his way and wasn't dilly-dallying somewhere, like planning a grand entrance. Jamie kissed her cheek, hoping to sweet talk her to giving up this charade of wellness. "I'm pretty sure ye're uncle will understand once he finds out about yer condition."

"I know," Claire murmured. "But I want today to be perfect and complete. I want to see uncle Lamb's face when we announce it."

"But it's already perfect."

"Not without uncle Lamb."

Jamie prayed for patience and tamped down the urge to haul this beautiful but infuriating woman in his arms and carry her to bed. He squeezed her hand and yielded to her request, knowing this get-together was important to her. "Whatever ye say, Sassenach. Just let me know if ye need anything."

"I will," she replied between sharp intakes of breath.

Jamie decided not to press anymore. He knew this was one battle he couldn't win without creating a scene in front of their friends and family. But if Claire thought she was pulling this act off, Jamie was convinced, his perceptive family had already caught on with what was passing. Claire was a terrible actress, and she couldn't even lie to save her life.

Fortunately, their intimate tea party was animated and loud, and it diverted the attention from Claire. Directly opposite them, Tom and Willie were discussing the merits of owning a mini campervan for spontaneous weekend trips around the Highlands. On one end of the table, Murtagh passionately ranted and raved to Brian and uncle Duncan about the Tories and how SNP was the solution to Scotland's political future. Next to Claire, Annalise showed Ellen and aunt Jocasta how to work the Instagram app while Jenny, Mary and Geillis cackled over some celebrity gossip they've probably read somewhere. Grannie Annie had meanwhile fallen asleep in her seat with Adso in her lap and Rollo at her feet. At the far end of the garden, Finlay, Geillis' boyfriend and Ian were having a go at playing badminton but kept hitting the shuttlecock over the hedge to both their frustration.

Though Jamie was happy the tea party had gone as planned, he couldn't relax, too worried about Claire predicament. If it got to the stage where Claire lost any more colour to her face, he was sure no one would be able to blame him for whatever course of action he would take next.

"Right, does anyone want some fresh cuppa?" Claire suddenly announced, getting up from her seat.

Annalise immediately jumped to her feet. "I can do that."

Willie got up too. "I'll put the kettle on."

"I'll clear up the empty dishes," Geillis offered, already grabbing an empty tiered plate stand. "We dinnae want this stunning antique piece being knocked over, now do we?"

Ellen reached over to Claire from her seat and patted her hand. "Everything was lovely, dear. I couldnae decide which was my favourite. And that lavender lemonade was refreshing."

"Aye," Murtagh piped in as he got up and sat directly opposite Claire. "I bet it will taste even better with gin or vodka."

Brian frowned at Murtagh. "The lavender lemonade tastes good as it is. There's nae need to spoil it with alcohol. Besides, it's good for ye to give yer poor liver a wee break. If ye're no' careful, yer gene pool will soon have a swim-up bar."

"I dinnae drink that much," Murtagh grumbled.

"Aye ye do," Aunt Jocasta pointed out. "Dinnae think for one minute I didnae notice ye've been spiking yer tea."

Before Murtagh could retort, Geillis came back in time with a steaming mug and placed it in front of Claire.

"Ooh, what's this?" Claire asked, looking into her drink.

"It's ginger and turmeric tea," Geillis declared. "It's good for ye. I brought it with me from Glasgow. It's organic, and thought ye might like it."

Jamie couldn't help but smile to himself. He knew ginger tea or any form of ginger were effective in reducing nausea. Claire probably knew too because her eyes lit up and gave Geillis an appreciative nod. If he wasn't a hundred per cent certain earlier, everyone knew about Claire's condition, now he's more convinced than ever they were playing along. Jamie appreciated the gesture, but this had gone on too far. Where the bloody hell is Quentin?

"I'm back!" boomed a voice, waking grannie Annie up. It was as if Jamie's thoughts had conjured Claire's uncle from thin air, and there he was making a grand entrance as Jamie had expected. "I hope there are some leftovers. I'm famished."

Claire laughed, twisting around on her seat to watch her uncle approaching. Ellen got up and started plating some food for Quentin.

"There's plenty of leftovers," Annalise assured as she placed another platter of sandwiches on the table. "Claire made enough for the entire village."

Quentin gave Claire a quick kiss on the forehead before greeting the rest of the party, who'd gathered back around the table. "Sorry for the delay," he apologised, finally taking a seat next to Claire. "Our plane was stuck on the tarmac without any air conditioning. We had no choice but to sit there and stew in the heat while the engineers fixed the plane."

"Well, I'm glad you're here now," Claire said, looking adoringly at her uncle.

Quentin stared at the bruising on her cheek. "I don't like the look of that. It looks ..."

Sounds of several throats clearing ensued, a signal to Quentin not to pursue the London topic any further.

"Very well," Quentin nodded in understanding. "I'm glad too that I'm here."

Claire smiled. "Alrighty, so now that everyone's here, Jamie and I have an announcement to ..."

"Hold that thought, sweetheart," Quentin interrupted as he bent down to retrieve the holdall he'd placed at his feet. "I brought a souvenir."

Jamie bit his tongue at the interruption.

"I hope it's not another ceramic plate," Claire groaned, unaware of Jamie's frustration.

"No. I got something better." Quentin waggled his bushy eyebrows as he unzipped his bag and proceeded to rummage through its contents. "Wait for it! Wait for it!" Suddenly he yanked out a bottle and held it up for everyone to see. "I got Ouzo!" he announced with satisfaction.

"Yesss, ya beauty!" Murtagh cheered happily, banging a hand on the table. "I love Ouzo."

Aunt Jocasta scowled at Murtagh. "Ye like anything alcoholic. Ye'll drink Listerine if it was placed in front of ye."

"What's Ouzo?" Claire asked as she stared curiously at the offering. "I mean, I've heard of it before, but I've forgotten what it is."

Jamie was about to fill in the information and tell her she wouldn't be able to stand the smell of it when Quentin expertly uncapped the bottle and held it under Claire's nose. Oblivious to Jamie's hitch of breath, Claire pressed her nose closer to the opening of the bottle to take a better whiff. Ah, shite!

"It's an anise flavoured liquor," Quentin described. "Mostly served as an aperitif in Greece.."

Jamie watched in awe as Claire's head jerked back and her face contorted when her senses registered the smell, and a low, gurgling sound came from deep down in her belly. He winced, half expecting any moment now a horrific scene of projectile vomiting, and the recipient would be none other than his godfather sat opposite her. But Claire jumped to her feet, startling everyone, and her hand immediately clapped over her mouth, golden eyes bright and tearing up. Quick thinking Jenny, grabbed a sprig of mint she'd put in the vase, macerated it in her hands and offered it to Claire. Everyone gasped and watched in fascination as Claire took the green leaves and stuffed her mouth with them, and began to chew, jaws working overtime, reminding Jamie of a cow feeding in the fields. Nobody said a word, waiting for the next scene to unfold or for someone to offer an explanation.

Swallowing audibly, Claire finally untensed and slumped back down to a loud hearty burp. And as if nothing had happened, she calmly drank a good measure of her ginger tea, put the mug down and then smiled. "Sorry about that. So where were we again?"

Eyes bulging almost out of his head, Quentin sputtered before he managed to string a coherent sentence together. "W-What the bloody hell was that? Was that some kind of weird side effects from what happened in London that I have no idea of?"

Claire looked at Jamie, looking suddenly exhausted. "Can you please tell them?"

"Tell me what?" Quentin bristled.

Jamie dropped his head on his folded arms resting on the table and allowed it to bounce once. Twice. Thrice. God must have taken pity of him because when he glanced up, everyone shouted in chorus. "Claire and Jamie are having a baby!"

Dear Readers,

Thank you all for the response and feedback I received for my previous chapter. I know it got a bit crazy; therefore, today's update is more subdued to allow everyone's breathing to go back to normal. Nevertheless, I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much I've enjoyed writing it for you.

Anyway, I hope you're all keeping safe and taking care of yourself and mostly taking the time to enjoy the last days of summer. Keep up the good vibes and be well. X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #savethedate #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp/jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

91 notes · View notes

infernal-fire · 3 years

Note

I love your dark Jake Jensen and I have a request for him, so the team gets in contact with reader for supplies for a mission an Jensen feels a spark between them so he makes every excuse to talk to reader to the point the team teased but helps him out with his grand scheme to get with reader but they don't know how far he'd go to make reader his ☺️💕 thanks

I love a good dark!jake fic!! I have changed the specifics a litttllle bit so i hope this is alright :)

Warnings: implied noncon/dubcon, some creepy behaviour, mention of stalking, drugging, mention of breeding kink

Summary: 5 days; that’s how long it takes him to become fixated on you.

Wc: 2k

You’re My Delusion

They could have gone to any supplier. Fate would have it that Aisha wanted you, and only you.

The melodious tune of a piano ringtone chimed in your bag. You ask the other daycare teacher to take over for you and picked up the phone: Unknown Number. You watched the phone ring until the line went dead and resumed your day.

It may have been an ‘unknown number’, but your subconscious unequivocally knew who it was. Grumbling at the thought of being contacted again, you twisted the handle to your condo. Of course, you didn’t bat an eye when there was an envelope on your countertop, one that you didn’t put there; Aisha knew that you knew the phone would ring again, and if you didn’t answer, she would pay you a visit.

When Unknown Number flashed across your screen for the second time that day, you considered letting it go to voicemail again, but picked up anyway.

“Aisha.”

“Y/N.”

“If you’re gonna ask me for an assist-”

Aisha cut you off. “I know you don’t do missions anymore. We need a safe house that’s off the books.”

“Who’s we?”

“They’re all men.” As if on cue, you heard someone guffaw in the background. “It’s making me lose my goddamn mind,” she elucidated.

“You know I don’t really do this stuff anymore,” you huffed, “But I’m making an exception this one time. For you.” You could hear Aisha let out a squeal of happiness, and realized how bad it must be if she uncharacteristically showed excitement.

While cleaning up your old warehouse-turned-safehouse, Aisha’s words echoed in the back of your head. “Some of them are a little... bulky. Let them sleep on the floor.” You tried to protest, asking her, what’s the point of a safehouse if they aren’t resting well, but she dismissed the question. “Trust me. They’re nothing more than cavemen.”

It was 4 AM; foot tapping impatiently and sipping on the third coffee of the night, you smacked your forehead in frustration. It was way past bedtime. After living alongside Aisha for years, anyone would appreciate nights that consist of 8 hours of sleep.

You could certainly appreciate it. Being a daycare teacher, living in a civilian condominium and not engaging in government work was something you couldn’t take for granted. Not after all the shit you’ve seen.

3 brusque knocks sounded on the metal door to your right. Your head snapped to the source, waiting for Aisha to call out the code word.

“LOSERS!” a voice hollered from the other side. You trudged to the door, trying to shake off the dizziness that came with standing up too fast.

Opening the door with caution, you had only blinked a few times before a body pulled you into a tight embrace.

“You’re never this excited to see me. That bad, huh,” you sneered.

“You have no idea.” Aisha pulled out of the hug and turned to face the men who had lined up nearby.

“So… who’s this?” The guy with dirty blonde hair, nerd glasses and a horrible sense of fashion piped up. His whole appearance was an oxymoron to his build - muscles protruded out of the bright pink shirt that hugged him like a second skin. On the other hand, you couldn’t imagine him as anything more than a harmless golden retriever.

“Don’t ask as if you don’t know Jensen,” Aisha groused. You could practically hear her roll her eyes.

“What’s your name, darling?” another guy spoke. He exuded the energy of a leader; you looked him straight in the eyes and gave him your name.

The golden retriever repeated your name as if to try out the taste of it on his tongue. You gave him a lopsided, close-mouthed smile and asked Aisha for her teammates’ names.

“You don’t need to learn their names.” She stalked off, unwilling to be a part of the conversation any longer.

The guy you had assumed was the leader sighed at her attitude before introducing himself as ‘Clay’. He pointed at each person and gave you their titles.

“Okay so you’re Clay, that’s Cougar, Roque,” you skipped over Jake, “and Pooch.”

“Me?” Jake softly inquired.

The rest of the team began picking up their things and walking away, but not before Pooch nudged Jensen with his shoulder and winked. The puppy-like man flushed in response and rubbed the nape of his neck.

“What about you?” you asked once you were alone.

“You didn’t say my name.”

“I know it’s Jake… but can I call you ‘daddy’ instead?”

He froze up, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights.

“Relax Jakey,” you put a hand on his chest, “I’m only teasing.” You winked and strutted away, snickering to yourself at how he looked like he was about to pass out.

The entire team was trying to egg you and Jensen on. Well, not the entire team.

Aisha and Roque couldn’t care less, and Cougar did nothing more than smirk at your playful banter.

Often, Jensen would start a conversation that would escalate quickly, your witty dialogue interrupting his rationale. You thought it was adorable how he didn’t know how to respond; a guy like him could have fantastic game, but he was too much of a sweetheart, not the mention, way too awkward.

One particular night, you let down your guard, just enough to actually get to know him.

“You seem like a really supportive uncle,” you commented at his excitement for his niece’s next soccer game.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I wish my parents would have done this for me.”

“Done what?”

“You know… Tell me they’re proud of me.”

“Well Jake... I think you should know, that I’m proud of you for everything you’re doing for the country.”

Jake looked up at you, sporting the signature look of the uncertainty of how to respond. It didn’t take a genius to be able to tell that he wasn’t used to being praised.

“Thank you. That means a lot more than you know,” he quietly responded.

The rest of the night was spent in a solemn, yet understanding silence, one that both of you were oddly comfortable with.

Unfortunately, that would also be the last time you saw him.

Or so you think.

The mission went sour, and for the first time since retirement, you wished you had assisted. Maybe if you assisted, the mission wouldn’t have gone south. Maybe if you assisted... you would have been able to say goodbye.

Without even realizing it, Jake had burrowed a little hole into your heart. You hoped life could go on with the little leak in your pump. Regardless, there is no time for sulking; after all, no amount of reminiscing would change the way things happened.

It had been months after Aisha and the team went back into hiding but you were faring well. Life as you knew it had continued without a trace of the burly, soft man-baby. You almost forgot about the ordeal, up until that day. Perhaps it was fate that had you switch the TV on at that time. You would never know.

A team of rogue CIA agents, presumed to be dead, have now infiltrated a crime branch operating within the US government. They have been pardoned from their status as “Enemies of State” but can no longer work for the CIA taskforce, as their identities have been indefinitely compromised.

You blinked at the screen, watching Aisha’s name and picture appear. Subsequently, there was Clay, Pooch, Jensen, Cougar and Roque. You were happy for them.

Pooch could go back home to his wife. It was hard to imagine what it must have been like for the missus; pregnant and alone. Though you didn’t know Pooch that well, you knew he was a good partner and husband.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your front door shutting and clicking in place. Your hand frantically pressed the ‘volume up’ button on the TV as you hurled for the handgun under your pillow.

Sliding to the wall beside the door, you cautiously peered into the dark hallway and made out a large figure. You huffed quietly before appearing in the doorframe with your gun pointing straight at the mystery guy. At this point, you had a good idea of who it was, but you wanted to mess with him anyway. “Hands up, and not another step forward.”

He tried to speak, but you cut him off.

“Don’t. speak,” you punctuated each word. Reaching for the light switch, you flipped on the hallway light. The dim light revealed your golden retriever standing there with his eyes wide open in fear.

“Don’t shoot?” he said, like a question.

You grinned and tucked the gun into your waistband.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought I should come see you.”

“You could have knocked, like a normal person.”

He shrugged sheepishly.

“How do you know where I live?” you questioned. To that, he fiddled with his fingers and looked down.

“Only Aisha knows this place. And I know she would have never told you.” You intently stared at him while leaning into the nearest wall and folding your arms.

Jake didn’t want to tell you that he had been stalking you. Every spare moment he had during the remainder of the mission was spent tracking you. After a few weeks, it felt as though you had moved on. It pained him, to say the least.

“I- uhm,” he looked up at you and took a step forward, “Hey, I just-...” He stopped when you reached for your handgun again, now wary of his intentions.

He put his hands back up.

“I wanted to ask you out properly.”

“What do you mean ‘properly’? We were never going out, to begin with.”

Before you understood the spur of movement, Jake lunged for you and plucked the handgun out of your pyjama’s waistband, throwing it over the railing of your staircase. You tried to kick him, but he pricked you without giving you a moment to react.

“What did you give me?” You clutched your neck in the spot he sunk the needle.

“I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to do that,” he exhaled. He tried to hold you, but you weakly pushed him off, still trying to recover from the shock of his betrayal.

“Takes 5 minutes to really work,” he scratched his neck.

Then there was the fight. You gave it your all but with no weapon or leverage, you were going up against 200 pounds of pure muscle who was hell-bent on restraining you for some reason.

2 minutes into the fight, you began to really feel the effects of whatever he gave you. He point-blank caught a punch that you tried to drill into his sternum. You look up at him incredulously, unable to still believe that he was trying to take you down right now.

At last, he snapped.

“Listen to me,” he grasped both your hands.

You momentarily struggled, but your shoulders slumped and you gave up on trying to free your wrists.

“How could you move on without me?” he asked, attempting to look you in your eyes. You wouldn’t meet them.

“Jake, you are delusional! I barely had a crush on you for 5 days,” you cried, letting the wetness spread over your cheeks freely. At this point, it was clear, what he was here for.

“You should know, those 5 days were some of the best in my 29 years of living. I want that for the rest of my life.”

“Why couldn’t you have done this like a normal person?” You finally met his eyes with an excess of tears blurring your vision.

“You keep saying that,” he began, letting go of your arms and wiping your tears, “but you know that you and I are not normal.” Jake leaned down to kiss your forehead.

Your legs were beginning to buckle, but Jake caught you, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He strode into your bedroom as if he had been there a thousand times, put you down on the bed gently, and brushed the hair out of your face.

Here we have Sergeant Linwood ‘Pooch’ and his wife reuniting. It is the first time he has seen her since his last mission, before disappearing. It is also the first time he will be seeing his child. Definitely, an emotion reun-

Your captor turned off the TV and turned to smile at you.

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” he asked, but seemed as if he were talking to himself.

You couldn’t respond, all your muscles now refusing to attend to your demands. Instead, more tears streaked down your face.

“A baby,” he whispered, “Yes, that would be nice.”

Masterlist

Tag list: @oneoftheprettynerds @partiesandblurrypolaroids @hitmewithyourbest-shot @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @bval-1 @quxxnxfhxll @sunflowerbunny2 @captainslittlegirl @sohoseb @iviesinmymind @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @old-enough-to-know-better73 @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay

Other tags: @mcudarklibrary @saiyanprincessswanie @angrybirdcr

Shoot me a message or fill out the form in my bio to be added to my tag list!

267 notes · View notes

ticklefits · 3 years

Text

AO3 LINK! | tickletober 2021 day 1: CHASE.

voltron: legendary defender | klance | words : 2572

“Oh, don’t let me stop you. Keep singing.” With a tone much too amused and muscular figure leaned against the door frame, Keith’s eyes have locked on his boyfriend who’s settled at the countertop, chopping up onions for their lunch. His ears were previously graced with the melodic & upbeat notes of Lance’s singing before he halted as soon as he noticed Keith’s presence, cheeks dusting over in a soft shade of cherry at having been caught.

"You snuck up on me! Y'know, all that Blade of Marmora training has made you seriously light on your feet, you're too quiet when you walk up on people--" Lance complains, obviously trying to shift the attention off of his virtuoso vocals, but Keith isn't falling for the trick. He merely grants the other a shrug, stepping further into the kitchen to peer down at the meal he was preparing before the interruption. It was a newer dish, something that Lance had talked about trying to cook before and though Keith rarely indulged in foreign grounds when it came to what he ate, Lance was a decent cook and he's willing to try anything for him. After a once-over of the food, he twists to match his gaze with Lance with Lance again, a small smirk now presented half-cocked upon his lips.

"Being quiet has its advantages," is his rebuttal, arms crossing along the width of his chest as he gently knocks a shoulder against his love's. "You can keep complaining about it if you do it in song."

A silent curse leaks out with the sensation of heat that strengthens on the surface of Lance's cheeks, half-tempted to run into the next room and half-tempted to actually take Keith up on his offer. Complaining while singing truthfully sounds sort of hilarious and maybe Lance might've considered it had he not been ambushed by the other, but the abashment that's welled up in the center of his stomach has stolen the reigns from his usual confidence and is keeping his vocal chords locked and twisted. At this point, he's temporarily canceled prepping lunch and his new focus lies on a getaway. Sapphire sight slowly inches from where Keith stands to the archway that connects into the living room, calculating the distance to it from his own feet and weighing the risks. Keith, however, is a warrior, and a highly trained one at that, so as soon as he notices Lance's fixed stare towards the living room, his smirk widens and his own stance alters.

"C'mon loverboy, don't make me chase you down. You know I'm faster than you." There it is. A challenge. A challenge to his Leo boyfriend, who's neatly sculpted eyebrows perk and furrow and his lips twitch at the corners.

"You're funny, Keith. The only one way you'd be faster than me, is if you tap into that cat-like Galran side of you and get on all fours. Stronger than me? Sure, maybe -- but not faster." Lance knows he just spit some fighting words, and judging by the slightly surprised, oh no he did not just say what I think he said look, Keith was about to square up. It was silent for a moment that dragged on like an hour, until Keith cements a stare at Lance and for a split second, Lance could swear he saw his pupils slit just like a feline.

"You get five seconds."

"Wha--"

"Run."

Lance did not need to be told twice. As soon as he heard that single word practically growled from his boyfriend, he sprang into a nearly full sprint into the living room. Keith kept his words and after 5 seconds, rocketed off after Lance. By the time he had an open view of the room, Lance was nowhere to be seen. He paused, rummaging through his thoughts to figure out where Lance might have escaped to next. He figures their bedroom would be a good place to start, plenty of the places to try and hide in there; try, being the operative word there. He enters the shared sleeping space and, just to tease Lance thoroughly in case he was hiding in there, starts to tap his nails on the walls and other hard surfaces, knowing damn well the clicks and clacks will echo.

"Oh, Laaance.." the swordsman practically coos, feigning an innocent tonality all the while checking under the bed and in their closet for his prey. "You know I'm not gonna hurt you. I wouldn't ever hurt you. But you do need to be punished for what you said."

Lance can hear him. He can hear him and Keith knows that he can. Their apartment isn't very generous with running room and hiding spaces, so he's taken refuge in their master bathroom. He nearly scoffs at Keith's statements; he knows Keith wouldn't hurt him, not intentionally, but that's not what he's worried about. He knows what those clickity clacks mean. The surface of his skin is already tingling and he's biting back a grin, hands smoothing over the goosebumps popping up along his arms. He could speak lies and say he hates when Keith does this, but they both know the truth: Lance thrives on it. Every tap of his nails drives Lance insane and he can feel his body trying to gravitate towards the sound, but he refuses to give in and admit defeat. Keith challenged him, so it's on.

He's dragging his nails now, goddammit, and he's getting closer. Those silent steps aren't so silent anymore and Keith's doing that on purpose. He wants Lance to hear him coming; it's all part of the chase. Thankfully though, their bathroom contains a door that opens up to the hallway, so if he times it right, he can get past without him hopefully noticing. Slowly, nearly holding his breath, Lance scoots to the second door and ever so gently turns the handle to minimize any sound and opens the door. A quick peek tells him that it's safe, but as soon as he fully exits the bathroom and begins his quiet tread through the hall, Keith appears behind him from their bathroom, running towards him. Lance yelps and his reaction is immediate, making a break for the living room once again. He jumps onto the couch and grabs a pillow, deciding to fend off his hunter with a weapon instead of continuing to run.

"En guard!" Comes his battle cry as Keith reaches him and narrowly misses the swing of a cushion at his head.

"That's a dirty play, McClain!" He manages to say before he gets uppercut with a cushion and it's as if the world goes into absolute silence. Lance hadn't really meant to smack him like that, but the damage has already transpired, so all he can do is gently place the couch cushions back to their proper home, all the while observing with fright behind his eyes as Keith's visage lowers back down to look at him. He says nothing, amethyst sight blank, but he does start to move towards Lance, which has the taller scooting backwards on the couch, palm outstretched as if that were to quell Keith's wrath any.

"Keith -- Keith, babe, baby, look at me -- you know I didn't mean to do that, I swear--!" But Keith still doesn't utter a single syllable, even as he climbs atop and straddles Lance's hips. He then moves to grab some of the mini pillow cushions nearest Lance's head, one in each hand, and Lance's eyes widen, remembering a time when Pidge pulled this on him herself, except she used vinyl, elbow - length gloves. Keith's method is unorthodox, but Lance is sure it's gonna tire him out all the same.

"Keith! No! No, no, no, no--!" But his pleas are no use. Raising the small pillows into the air, it isn't a second later that Keith starts to rapidly smack Lance's upper body with them. It's a furious barrage, one arm raining down a strike right after it's counterpart. If this was an action movie, and pillows were bullets shot out of a gun, this would be absolutely brutal. Fortunately for Lance, these soft, fluffy pillows don't hurt anywhere near a bullet wound. In fact, he's grinning all the while, limbs held askew above his head as a shield.

"Now this is a dirty play, Kogane! Fight me like a real man!" And Lance is about to regret those words, because as soon as Keith hears him, he halts his assault and tosses the pillows to the side, eyes glinting dangerously.

"Oh, I'm just getting started." Now unoccupied hands shift to settle on Lance's sides and instantaneously, Lance knew he was fucked.

"Woahwoahwoah, no! No, now this is really foul--!"

"Sucks to suck."

"FIRST of all, I'm the one who taught you that saAAhahah--!" Keith's heard enough prattling out of Lance, it's time to hear some of that sweet, hilarious laughter now. Fingers scribble over the clothed flesh of his sides and waist and that already gets him into giggling hysterics. Keith will always be pleasantly surprised at just how ticklish Lance is. Nearly every inch of him is sensitive to something and it never fails to gift him with serotonin when he's got Lance beneath him, rosy cheeked, squirming around, and laughing his heart out - much like he is now.

"Nohohohoho! Keh--Keheheheith! Stahahahahap!" His pleas are broken apart by giggles that are only raising in volume the more his sides are attacked and he's only growing further sensitive by the second. Lance knows his religiously vigorous skin care routine is partly to blame for how ticklish he is, but can you blame him for wanting soft, youthful skin? And it isn't like Keith's complaining about it either.

"Nah, I don't think I can. My fingers are under some sort of spell." Such a blatant lie from the older pilot and the grin he dons is unmistakably teasing.

"Yo--you're suhuhuch a lihahahahahar!"

"What? I'm offended. I'm not lying at all. In fact, I'll tell you an easy way to break the spell and get me to the stop."

"Gohohohohohod! Fiiiiihihihine, OKAY, okahahahy!" Lance is really beginning to struggle, squeals forcing themselves free as Keith migrates from waist, to stomach, and then to his ribs, poking & scritching between each one in an agonizing manner. "Aaahahahahaha! Tell---tell mehehehehe alreadyyyy!"

"You really wanna know?"

Lance's strength is sapping quicker than he'd like it to, but he still possesses enough of it to gently smack at Keith's arm, his giggles evolving into full blown laughter once those dastardly fingers begin reaching towards his armpits in retaliation.

"All you gotta do is sing. Like, that one red-headed princess, to break a spell that was on her, or whatever." The fact that Keith really provided a Disney comparison to Lance's current predicament is hilarious all on its own, but Lance wasn't about to give into this torture, and deliver what Keith desired so easily.

"Hohohohow is -- i-is ticklihihihing me suhuhpposed to make me wahahahant to SING?? B-Besides, a kihihihihiss broke Ahahariel's spell, not -- not singihihihihihing!" Poor Lance, with his cracking voice and breathy, hollow words that could scarcely be understood through all of his laughter. Keith understood the gist of it though and contemplated his conditions. He still wanted Lance to sing to him, but a kiss sounded pretty nice too. However, he isn’t quite finished with his boyfriend’s torture; there’s still one last area he very much wants to explore before he allows Lance free. Spidering digits cease their actions, smoothing up and then down the expanse of Lance’s toned torso, granting him a desperately needed, albeit quick rest. Lance doesn’t speak, merely taking this opportunity in stride to gulp down as much air as he can, because a minute part of him knows Keith isn’t done and that something wicked this way comes.

Something wicked indeed. After some very short-lived moments of repose, without skipping a beat, Keith breaks into full force tickling all over the surface of Lance’s soft thighs. The first and last thing to run through Lance’s mind is a sharp curse to himself for deciding that today was a good day to wear shorts. Keith has an all access pass to one of his death spots and he is allowing no mercy. They’re certainly going to get a noise complaint from their neighbors ( not that Keith cares ), because the inhumane screech that burst from the tunnel of Lance’s throat could probably be heard blocks away.

“K---KEEEHEHEHEHEHITH!! NO! NOHOHO, NOT RIGHT THEHEHEHEHRE! PLEHEHEHEASE, AHAAAHAHAHAHNYTHING BUT THERRRRE--!” the couch has been shaved of all of its cushions by flailing, lengthy limbs and even Keith is having trouble keeping atop of Lance, what with all of his wriggling and buckling.

“Geez, Lance, you almost sound like I’m killin’ you.” Keith’s grin is now from ear to ear, more than enjoying himself, the view, and his love’s ridiculously adorable laughter.

“YOU AHAHAHAHARRRRE!! PLEEEEHEHEHEHASE!” But it’s only when Lance deflates into silent laughter, arms going limp against the couch underneath him, that Keith finally concludes his torture. Calloused hands remove themselves from the slender frame and he completely slides off of Lance, disappearing into the kitchen. Unbothered by Keith’s abrupt departure, Lance soaks up every single second of relaxation he can, until he glances up once he hears footsteps, and sees the water bottle Keith’s offering. Smiling a little weakly, Lance sits up, releasing a few lingering giggles as the movement of his still hyper - sensitive upper body brings forth some ghost touches.

“Alright, time to break your spell.” Keith’s statement is oh so cheeky and as he leans forward, waiting for Lance to close the distance, he half expects Lance to do anything but kiss him. A pleasant surprise is given to him when he feels those familiar, supple lips intertwining with his own, and he smiles into it. The kiss lasts for a couple of seconds before Lance pulls away and eyes Keith, brow rising along his temple.

“Guess whose job it is to prepare lunch now?”

A roll of lavender eyes, but he holds out his hand nonetheless. “Yeah, yeah. I tired you out, so I guess it’s mine. I don’t know how to make what you were making though.”

Lance takes the hand that’s offered and ascends from the couch, bending to start picking up the collapsed couch cushions. “Go on into the kitchen, I’ll be right behind you to boss you around.” Keith snorts a quickle chuckle, but does as instructed, making his way back into the kitchen. He nearly stops as something catches his ears, a heavy warmth blooming in his chest. Lance sings more than loud enough for Keith to hear him, even as he’s waiting in the kitchen. He continues singing, once all of the cushions are placed back in their proper place, and as he finally enters the kitchen. He saunters up to Keith, sight locked with sight, a hand on his chest, happiness brimming in the way he sings.

“♪ Maybe this love is mad, you're filling every thought I have. Now I've stayed too long, and there's no turning back. Might as well dance.~ ♪” As if on cue, Keith takes his hand and spins him, earning an even more brilliant smile from Lance, and he lands softly against Keith, arms coiling around his neck to bring him back in for another kiss. Suddenly, lunch doesn’t matter so much anymore.

#tickletober2021 #tickletober 2021 #voltron #vld #klance #tickle fic #tickling #lee!lance #ler!keith #ticklish!lance

68 notes · View notes

inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Permanent Chaos (5/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

Part Summary: Colson and Y/N talk over coffee and Colson shows her a hint of what it’s like to be a part of his world.

Masterlist

The Starbucks in the courtyard has since emptied out with everyone having to return to work after their breaks. Colson and I are two of the only remaining people inside. My hands are wrapped around cup, it’s nice and warm. I had to remove the lid to cool down the substance. We’ve been going back and forth, sharing facts about ourselves.

"Have you always wanted to be an actress?”

Studying the dark brown drink in my cup I recall memories from before I moved here.“No, in all honesty. I never saw myself as an actress.”

He doesn’t try to hide his surprise. His stunned reaction makes me giggle.

"If you don’t mind me asking, why do you do it then?”

I sway my head from side to side. “It sorta just worked out. I was out shopping with my mom one day when I was in high school. Nicole approached us. She was in town on business and encouraged me to at least visit Los Angeles so we could set up a meeting. The next thing I knew I was in auditions and I got my part on The Seasons of Life a few months later.”

“Wow,” his brows remain raised as he glances down at his drink. “If you weren’t acting what would you be doing?”

Sitting up straight, I remember what I once thought was my dream life. “First I would go to college and…” I wave my hand, dismissing the thought.

Colson presses for me to say it. “you’d what? Come on!” He chuckles, grinning brightly.

Rolling my eyes, I tell him. “I’d go to art school.” I bite my lip timidly. “Yeah... that would be nice.” I pick at the cardboard wrap on the cup.

There’s a comfortable silence between us until I change the subject. “Enough about me! What about you? If you weren’t a singer, where would be right now?”

He looks over in the distance, almost envisioning where his life would be. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” he shrugs but is pleased, “I’ve always loved music. Being in music allows me to do what I love.”

I nod, almost impervious of him and his contentment.

“However,” he adds pointing at me. “If it were up to my parents, I would have some office job probably.”

"Eh, those jobs are so bland. I vote you stick to concerts," I giggle.

He laughs and it’s contagious.

My gaze lands on his arm as he reaches for his coffee. His entire arm is covered in ink. I was taught by my parents to despise tattoos. My mom would say, “why would anyone ever be willing to damage their body like that?” Finn jumped on that bandwagon. Whatever Mom says is considered fact to him. For the longest time, I agreed with them. That is until I met Colson. He was made to have tattoos.

I’ve seen many people in this city with tattoos but his aren’t just markings for the body, they’re art.

“Which one are you interested in?” He questions, watching me as I admire them.

“All of them,” I mumble, examining each one individually in awe.

Back where I’m from tattoos are frowned upon quite frankly. When you grow up in a place no different than Pleasantville, that’s what you get. Especially, in South Carolina.

“Do you have any?” He asks with amusement in his voice.

I shake my head rapidly, “never in a million years!” Comprehending how he could take my response as an insult I’m quick to explain. “I mean, I would never be allowed.”

His brows scrunch together. "Never been allowed? You’re an adult. Who’s stopping you?”

I can’t help but snicker a little. If only it was as simple as he makes it sound. “My parents, brother, Nicole, Steph..."

Colson narrows his eyes at me as he leans forward in his chair. “You’re your own person. You should be able to make your own decisions.” His argument is lacking and quite frankly too optimistic.

“It’s complicated…” My eyes fall onto my fingers picking at the cardboard rim of my coffee cup.

“If you say so… except all of them are keeping you from expressing yourself.”

I roll my eyes as my lips form a smirk. It’s unbelievable, he makes everything sound so black and white. “You’ll never understand,” I conclude.

“I understand more than you think.”

Lifting my eyes up, he stares at me with a sincere expression.

“Prove it,” I challenge him.

Based on the change of his features, I have given him exactly what he wants.

"If you say so, Princess," he chuckles, rising from his chair. I stare at him in confusion and he offers me his hand. "You coming?"

I smirk, slipping my hand into his. He grins and bites down on his lower lip. I'm going to regret this.

_______________________________________________

Driving around with a guy I’m only acquainted to is completely unlike me. Everyone who knows me would be beyond freaked out at the current scene. It's kind of riveting.

“We’ve been driving for almost an hour," I snicker.

“It’ll be worth it, trust me!”

“Where exactly are we going?”

“The mystery is half the fun!” Colson enjoys the antics.

I reach forward and change the radio station. Yungblud's "Parents" plays and I leave it. "Love this song," I mumble to myself.

Colson glances over me, evidently surprised. "You know Dom's music?"

"What? Just because you view me as a 'goody-two-shoes' doesn't mean I live under a rock." I giggle and hold my finger for him to wait a second. He chuckles. I begin to rap the lyrics from memory. "Yeah, the teacher fucked the preacher. But then he had to leave her. Had to wash away the sins of a male cheerleader. Hi, nice to meet ya, got nothing to believe in. So let me know when my breathing stops!"

Colson turns up the volume to blasting and we then shout the chores together. I can’t remember the last time I had the chance to drive with the windows down, blasting music, and acting my age. I’ve forgotten what’s it like to just be a young girl, not working all the time.

Once the song fades out, he turns down the volume.

"So, she can rap too!" Colson looks at me, rather impressed.

I dismiss his compliment with a wave of my hand. "Only if I've listened to a song a dozen times."

"Not gonna lie, that was hot," he chuckles.

Warmth rushes to my cheeks and I struggle not to smile. My head rests against the window as I watch the ocean become a blur as we drive down the PCH.

_______________________________________

Colson drives down the road until there’s a dead end. To my surprise and then confusion, he parks the car.

“We’re here!" He announces before jumping out of the car.

There’s nothing here. Bushes, sad-looking trees, and dirt. I watch as he walks over to a clearing between some bushes.

He peers over his shoulder. “You coming?”

I take a deep breath and swing open the door. Following him to wherever we are, I spot a sign.

No Trespassing!

“Hey Colson, that sign said no trespassing. We should go back.”

He doesn’t even slow down as he walks down a weak path. “I’ve seen it, they never do anything.”

With every passing moment, this road trip becomes more and more out of my comfort zone. Nicole and my entire team for that matter have guided me to prefer the indoors these past few years. I can’t remember the last time I spent an entire day outside in nature or not following a schedule.

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel when the brush ends and the path opens up to a clearing. The sound of waves hitting the cliff before us echoes throughout the area.

I cautiously step closer to the edge and look down to the bottom. “Wow!” I say to myself breathlessly.

Colson peers down to the shoreline beside me. He then suddenly removes his jacket and moves on to his shirt.

My jaw drops and I quickly direct my attention to the coastline far from him. I bring my hand to the side of my face shyly, blocking my sight of him undressing. “What the hell are you doing?”

He chuckles behind me. I’m glad he can find so much amusement in my discomfort. “Cliff diving!” He says a matter of factly.

“What! No you couldn’t! It’s illegal in these parts! You could get killed!”

“Or, I’ll jump, have loads of fun and do it again!” He debates.

I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “Fine, you live out your death wish. I won’t be participating!” Whipping around and avoiding even sharing a short glance with him, I stomp toward the direction we came.

He drops his shirt on top of his jacket in the grass and jogs to catch up to me. He squeezes my shoulder, using the other hand to plea with me. I whip my head around to face him. That's when I notice his tattoo-covered chest.

“Oh let’s do it, Princess!" He encourages. "It’ll be thrilling! An adventure! Reckless! Something different!”

Did he just call me Princess? No one has ever called me that and he has twice now.

Colson takes my hand into both of his and I’m thrown off by the action. “Be spontaneous with me,” he requests softly.

Currently, I’m debating with myself. The youthful part of me is screaming ‘hell yes! Let’s do this!’ The businesswoman part of me is wiser than to take such a risk. I check over at the edge again. My willingness to do such a rebellious action is new to me. There’s no one here to see us. Paparazzi isn’t around to take pictures. Perhaps the cause of my newfound bravery is because of him.

I take a deep breath and nod. “Okay, let’s do it.”

As if he already knew I would eventually accept, his grin only grows.

“Well then, I suggest you strip unless you prefer to sit around like a wet dog for the hour ride back.” He winks at me, biting his lower lip.

In a normal case, I would be insulted by such a forward request but considering where we stand I find it humorous. After thoroughly checking the area for any cameras or strangers, I slip my dress over my head then kick off my wedges. An odd feeling stirs in my stomach and my heart is pounding. My comfort zone is shot to hell.

Tossing my hair up in a ponytail, Colson scans my appearance.

“Excuse me Mr. Baker, it’s not nice to stare,” I tease, yanking at my finished ponytail to tighten it.

Unfazed, he snaps out of it and faces the shore. His hair wisps around in the breeze, falling over his face. The perfect strands are just as light as his eyes. His jawline could cut a diamond. His skin, as smooth as porcelain but covered in various tattoos.

“Excuse me Miss Voss, it’s not nice to stare,” he repeats my words back to me.

I snap out of my daze. “Wasn’t staring,” I argue, now turning towards the coast.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, I know I'm hot.” His lips curve into a loose smirk.

My time with him is often one big eye roll. I slowly approach the edge of the cliff, peering over.

“Nervous?” He checks, looking down at the water for himself.

“Nope." I lie.

“Scared?”

“No.”

“Have you jumped from a cliff before?”

I exhale deeply. “No.”

He shifts his body to face me and I flicker my eyes to the side to meet his gaze.

“And you’re not afraid?” He checks.

“Not at all,” I admit without hesitation.

He snickers, whether it be because he’s impressed or he doesn’t believe me. “How come?”

I shrug, a brief hum for an answer escaping me. “The unknown doesn’t scare me, only challenges me… and I love a challenge,” I wink with a sly grin.

His warm hand interlocks with mine and I nearly yank mine away yet because of the non-threatening look in his eyes, I stay. In fact, a part of me likes the feeling of his large hand in mine. It makes me feel safer than I have in quite some time.

“On three” he exhales, staring off into the distance.

I nod.

“One," he counts. “Two...”

I exhale. I can't believe I'm doing this!

"Three!" Colson shouts.

I jump. Out of instinct, I squeeze Colson’s hand tighter. My voice travels in a scream as the two of us fall towards the crystal blue surface. He was right, this is such a rush! We torpedo into the water and the cold temperatures engulf me. Colson and I lose touch at some point then I kick to the surface. Wiping the excess water from my face, Colson pops up from under the water in front of me. Somehow even when wet and disheveled his hair still appears effortlessly pristine.

“Wasn't that a rush!” His arm snakes around my waist.

A part of me is begging for me to protest but I suppress that part of me. Instead, I rest my arms over his shoulders. He takes the opportunity to guide my legs around his waist. Shading my eyes from the sun with my hand I measure the height of where we jumped.

Still struggling to catch my breath, I can’t help but smile widely. “It was a one-time opportunity!”

“That’s up to you to decide!” he argues wittily.

I lower my hand and his blue eyes see right through me. My eyes flicker down to his lips and impulsively, I slam my lips to his. I'm not sure what comes over me, but I needed to kiss him. Colson wastes no time, bringing a hand behind my head, deepening the kiss. We break apart only to catch our breath.

“I believe you’ll prove to be a bad influence,” I say lightheartedly but between the lines with the utmost seriousness.

“That depends on how you look at it,” he argues, his breathing inconstant.

Hungrily, he brings his lips back to mine and I melt into it. Colson is everything that’s bad for me. He’s an indulgence that’s disguising itself as a need. He’s toxic and I’m ignoring the warnings. The warmth of his palm radiates onto my face as he cups it.

Against my lips, he grins. “You were spontaneous! Always be spontaneous!” His words, nearly sounding like a beg, settle in me.

His crystal blues eyes stare into mine and I can’t help but be addicted. I'm falling for a fairytale.

________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @canyoubuymetoast @bri-3530 @asil1652 @andstilltryingtofindmyself @nadia2021 @olafsidehoe @mgkobsessed @fairywriting101 @ferrell-cat @naylanae-0308 @tonystarkswife10 @alexsa56 @brocksbabyyy @stormrider505 @magnificenthumancopangel @sarcasticfangirlus @lilramencup95beech @missyviolet123 @skeleton-gxrl @glitterybearllamaflap @margaritaville20 @amoresixx @thysagclub @hockeybabe87

#mgk imagine #mgk smut #mgk fanfic #mgk aesthetic #mgk #mgk x y/n #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fanfic #fanfic #imagine

57 notes · View notes

thisisgonnafuxkinkillme · 3 years

Text

POV: You Got Wayyy Too High

Warnings: Drug use (weed lol)

Aizawa Shouta/ Eraserhead

“Hey, what are you doing?” asked Aizawa as he plopped his bag at the door. You were trying to smoke weed from a pipe, but instead of lighting the actual herb, you were trying to heat it up from the bottom of the pipe.

You’d never smoked weed, but wanted to try it and bought the supplies from a local smoke shop, as well as buying some good stuff from your friend.

Unfortunetly, you also didn’t bother to look up how to actually use a pipe, instead just relying on knowledge you gained from drug documentaries.

This meant that you only knew how people heated up heroin with a flame under the spoon, which meant that surely you could do the same with weed.

“No, no, no, no. Stop that,” he ordered. You were his age, but nonetheless still buckled under his stern tone.

“Look, do you need me to show you how to do it?” he asked, gently taking the glass pipe from your hand. You nodded.

“Watch carefully,” he ordered, as he properly lit up the herb as he inhaled the smoke. He then passed it to you, watching you carefully to make sure you were doing it right. Soon, you got the hang of it.

Even sooner, though, you were a coughing mess.

“Calm it down, there. Don’t take huge puffs. You’re not impressing anyone here, y/n,” he scolded, taking another puff. He did it effortlessly, as if he’d done it for years. (He has.)

You wanted to impress him, though, even though he seemed to not care what you did. You just wanted to prove to him that you were ~cool~.

Well, this ended up in you looking very... uncool.

While Aizawa was chilling with a pretty decent high, you were laid across the bed, starfish style, blasting music in your ears. You were honestly vibing though, so Aizawa didn’t mess with you. For now.

The next day, he definitely teased you a little bit about how totally out of it you were, and how you listened to the same song on loop for 3 hours.

“How did you know that?” You asked, cocking a brow.

“Uh, because your headphones weren’t plugged in?”

Yagi Toshinori/ All Might

He was smoking when you came home, and though he tried to hide it, you smelled it. He acted as if he was just caught as a 17 year old in his mom’s house.

“Uh, no, it’s nothing! I...I don’t do anything like that!” He insisted.

“Toshi, come on. I can smell it,” you smiled. He covered his face.

“Please, please, keep this between you and I...I only do it because it helps with the pain and-”

You cut him off, “ I dont care why you do it, just lemme have some already!”

Of course, you were just teasing him, and he knew that, but he couldn’t help but ask, “...You smoke?”

You shook your head playfully.

“If you’ll let me, I’d like to try some, though!”

He passed it to you, and you took a way-too-long drag. Instantly, you were doubled over, coughing and hacking your lungs out.

He patted your back firmly.

“Since this is your first time, you’re gonna cough a little. Just try to take smaller puffs and take deep breaths. There you go.”

Once you recovered, and Yagi got his turn, he handed the joint back to you. It continued to be passed back and forth between you two until it was finally no longer than a centimeter.

For a moment, you both just chilled out on the couch together, just vibing. That was until Toshinori noticed your goofy, dreamy facial expression. He chuckled to himself, but that was all you needed to become hysterical, laughing so hard that you couldn’t breathe. Seeing you laugh so much of course made Toshi a mess as well, which only added to your decent into utter madness.

Eventually, though, you both calmed down, and Toshi excused himself so that he could go take a quick bath. He often did this whenever he smoked, so that the warm water could aid even more in soothing his aching muscles and creaky bones.

So you were left alone. Totally unattended. At first, everything was totally fine.

However, as you started to actually feel the effects of the herb, you began to panic.

Is this normal? Does everyone else feel like this when they smoke? Oh God, this isn’t right...oh fuck, I’m gonna be the first dumbass to OD on THC...fuck...

Thoughts whizzed past your brain, every single one making sure you knew how totally fucked you were.

Tears streamed silently down your cheeks as you counted your pulse with two fingers on your wrist, but you coulnd’t find a pulse.

oh fuck...i’m probably going to pass out any minute now...it’s all over...

Images of your final goodbyes to everyone you loved flashed just behind your eyes.

“How’re you holding up, pumpkin?” asked Toshi, coming back from the bath, in a robe and his golden hair still damp.

You looked at him, your eyes red and puffy.

“Toshi...I’m...I’m dying...I love you, okay?” you murmured. He would have laughed, all except he saw the genuine fear in your eyes.

He sat down next to you, surrounding you with all of his lanky limbs.

“You’re not dying, honey. What you’re feeling right now is totally normal, I promise. Take some nice, deep breaths for me. Come on. There you go. Good.”

He cradled you there for a good while, until he felt your tense muscles finally slacken, and your breathing evened out.

Toshi made a mental note to never let you smoke that much ever again, guilt pinching at his sides.

Fatgum/Taishiro Toyomitsu

You had taken an edible cookie from your friend. She told you it was just a small bit in there, just enough for you to feel something.

You decided to be modest, eating just half of the cookie. You didn’t notice any effects, and out of sheer boredom you decided to go ahead and eat the rest of it. No harm in that, right?

Well, an hour later, it kicked in. You were expecting to feel something interesting, but you definately weren’t expecting anything like this at all.

Everything seemed so far away. Even your breathing sounded like it was coming down a long corridor and echoing to your ears. You could feel your soul swimming in your body.

Fatgum, who you lived with, luckily finished his hero duties early, and walked into the house joyfully as usual. He called out your name. You didn’t reply.

His large footsteps could be heard, but you were too busy thinking about how weird breathing sounds to notice.

Fatgum soon found you collapsed on the bathroom floor, face pressed against the cool tile.

Immediately, he propped you up against the wall, looking into your eyes with great concern.

“What did you take? Y/n, look at me. What did you take?”

You lazily looked at him, your face completely serious. As serious as it could be, anyway.

“...i...it was...edible...” you mumbled out. As soon as he understood, he was laughing hysterically.

“s..stop...s not funny...” you grumbled, punching him in the gut.

“Alright, alright... let’s get you into bed. You’ll feel much better once you wake up,” he smiled, picking you up and bringing you into the bedroom.

You quickly were comforted by the warm, heavy comforter. Fatgum took a moment to look at you in your groggy state, trying his best to hold back a laugh. It was so painfully obvious that you’d never done anything like this in your life. His only regret was not being around to witness your ascent into cloud 9.

Soon, though, you had drifted into dreamland.

Hizashi Yamada

You locked yourself in your bathroom, sneakily lighting up the joint you bought off of your friend. Your boyfriend was in his room, playing Fortnite or some shit, and frankly, you were embarrassed to smoke in front of him. You knew that he’d definately find something to roast you about, and he was relentless.

A couple minutes after you lit up, though, the door was basically busted down.

“HEY, HEY! You better be planning on sharing some of that!” yelled Hizashi, his hand already out and waiting. He still had his headset on, but you saw with relief that his mic was turned off. You passed it to him.

“Augh! Where the hell didja get this weak shit, y/n? Nah, this ain’t gonna cut it,” he complained, putting it out.

“Hey! I got that from my friend, dude! What the hell?” you frowned. Before you could be too mad at the waste, though, Hizashi pulled out a small wooden box from under his bed. Opening it, he revealed his stash of entirely too much pot.

You covered your mouth, stifiling a laugh. How the fuck could you have not smelled it?

Within five minutes, he’d rolled up a blunt, and was passing it to you, already lit.

It was gone after a little over half an hour, and you could already feel the effects. Your eyes were dry, your stomach craving junk food, and your brain craving chill vibes.

He returned to his game, unbothered but his volume definately toned down about 5 notches. He was a lot more chill than you’d ever seen him act, ever.

You found your way into the kitchen.

Once his game was over, he met you in there. You were in front of the fridge, pulling out thing after thing. By the time he’d gotten to you, you had eaten half a jar of pickles, three pieces of cake (with your bare hands), drank a bunch of soda, and you were headed for the chips that were sitting idly on the top of the fridge.

“oh, God...what the fuck are ya up to, dude?” he groaned. He did not want to deal with this mess.

You grinned at him. “I dunno, maan... look dude could you just get me these up here? please bro...” you giggled. He sighed dramatically, taking them.

However, instead of handing them over to you, with your dirty little fingers, he ate them.

“stoppp, bro, please lemme get some!” you pouted. He acted as if he couldn’t hear you, leaving the kitchen. You followed after him, kicking him in the shins.

Still, he didn’t seem to notice.

“Hizashi, come on, maaannnn!”

He laid himself on the bed, covering himself with blankets. He pulled out his phone, calling you. “Y/n, I miss you so much, man. Come chill out!” he spoke into the phone, trying his best not to break the act. You were absolutely furious at this point, punching at him.

“I’m right here, you doughnut!!” you groaned. Dramatically sighing, Hizashi frowned, “I really wish y/n was here to sesh with me...” all while still eating the chips. You jumped on top of him.

Finally, you caught him off gaurd, grabbed the chips, and locked yourself back up in the bathroom.

This time, though, he just left you be.

291 notes · View notes

starlightshadowsworld · 3 years

Text

Son of none

Based off this post: Aka Percy Weasley was abandoned by his family and I don’t think they realised just how much danger an 18 civilian blood traitor son would be when stuck behind enemy lines. Well never fear, a fic is here as if I don’t have any other drafts...any whoooo

@transparentfreakpursepanda

Warning for blood, torture, self loathing. Mentions of bullying and neglect. Cursing.

(Also while writing this I was listening to Polaris by Natewantstobattle and...yeah if you want more angst while reading this listen to them and think of Percy :) )

Percy deserved this.

Knowing that didn't change things. It didn’t make it easier to make it duck past the office that had once belonged to Barty Crouch Sr without feeling dread and greif. As harsh as the man could be and that he had not bothered to learn Percy's name... Percy still mourned his loss. For all that he was, Barty Crouch Sr had been a good man.

Life at the ministry taught him quickly, that kind of wizard was few and far between.

He wondered if the look Barty Crouch Sr had shared with his son before his death wax the same his father had shared with him the day he left.

Maybe it wasn't wise to compare yourself to a deranged murderer, but if that's the kind of wizard his family thought he was...

"Weasley"

It was stern, drenched in spite that was not unlike his old potions professor. But sadly even Snapes treatment of him in class did not hold a candle to what was happening now.

Percy lifted his head, it felt heavy. Infact all of him felt that he was on fire. The figure infront of him came into focus, not that Perch could quite recall his name. Edward? No that didn't seem right. Not Edward was his wand in hand and looked very annoyed, his dark mark was on full display.

Percy became very well aware in that moment that he couldn't move. He was bound to a chair in a room that looked very much like a cellar. He was still in his ministry robes, though they were dirty and tattered and stained in something.

It took Percy longer than he should've to realise it was his own blood. Not that he knew where he was bleeding from. "You Gryffindors and your bloody stubbornness" sneered Not Edward, he was a broad man, towering over Percy.

"You're wasting my time, and yours of you don't hurry up and tell me where your family is hiding." Percy shook his head, defiantly even if his body protested at the sudden movement. "Like I said before, even if I did know, I would never tell you."

And than Not Edward would shout profanities all the while using his subordinates to use Percy as target practice till he passed out. That had been the cycle for... Well he wasn't sure for how long. Apart from the first time when Percy had weaved a convincing story about the family heading to Romania to hide away with Charlie...a whole false hunt that ended with the brand he now had on his arm.

But this time was different.

Not Edward smirked "thought you'd say that, no matter. We've found out how to get there attention, and they'll hand themselves over." Percy laughed, it was a strangled and it sent another wave of pain through his body.

Not Edward was still smirking, in fact if anything his confidence grew. "And better yet, you're going to the bait that brings them here." And that stopped Percy laughing at once, he was quieter. "What makes you think they'd come" the words were barely above a whisper that echoed throughout the room.

Not Edward (Percy really needed to learn this man's name for his own internal monologue's sake) rolled his eyes "don't pull that on me, you Weasely's are more attached than a bunch of grapes. Rest assured, they'll be coming one way or another."

With that he left. Percy tried not to think about the fact a death eater had more confidence in his families arrival than he did. His mind wandered to the day he left, guilt pooled in his stomach. No amount of head trauma would erase the disgust and rage in Arthur’s eyes, Percy knew at that moment he had lost all right to call the man father.

He could never look him in the eye again, he couldn’t even look himself in the mirror without seeing him staring back. His mothers eyes haunted him, she’d been the only one to try to reach out but he had slammed that back in her face. Not that Percy should have been surprised, he’d always been a parasite.

If anything they must’ve been relived to be rid of him.

They wouldn’t come, he knew that. Than why did his heart race, did tears threaten to fall and his stomach churn at the thought? Percy thought of his siblings, young and old...they wouldn’t have given him a second thought. Fred and George would mourn the loss of their favourite target, but they would move on they all would if they hadn’t already.

For Percy though, this was the end of the line.

_______________________________________________________________

Weasley family dinners were always something else, Bill knew this better than most. He smiled to Fleur who sat at his side, amusement on her face as they both watched Molly do as she does best. It was organised chaos at its finest, and while Shell cottage was a far cry from the Burrow, somehow it all came together. Harry was laughing at a story Ginny and the twins were telling, Charlie and Hermione were actually helping Molly along with Arthur.

But even with how familiar it was, it was missing a certain brother rolling his eyes at the story and telling the true ending to the annoyance of the twins. Who would than direct the others to helping out with dinner to there mothers amusement.

Percy.

Ever since the watch, a muggle watch at that had arrived on his wedding day, with no name for the sender but only Bill’s name signed by an all too familiar handwriting...Bill hadn’t been able to take his mind of his little brother. His absence at his wedding and just seeing him around the house stuck out like a sore thumb to Bill. He wasn’t the only one either, he could see how his Mum would pause her eyes searching before looking down and moving onto something else.

Much like now when she put down the plates and realised that she’d left a little extra to the side. “Mum, I get that you miss him but you can’t keep doing this. Percy’s not coming back” the first to say it was Charlie, his voice soft like he was talking to an irate dragon. “Good riddance” that came from Ginny, in that whisper that wasn’t even trying to be quiet.

Instantly Molly became much like a dragon. “Ginevera Molly Weasley, don’t you dare speak about your brother like that!” She yelled, hot tears burning in her eyes. “Molly...” Interjected Arthur, putting a calming hand on his wife’s shoulder “you can’t blame her for her anger. Come on, let’s dig in.” And that should have been the end of it but Molly turned to him, her own temper boiling.

“Don’t you start, Arthur. Don’t you tell me I should be sat eating dinner while my son is out all alone.” She spat. “Mum, it’s fine Percy’s probably having high tea with the new minister, talking about the importance of cauldron bottoms” snickered Fred, “pfft yeah, just sat around telling the dark lord about his book report” agreed George. Bill frowned, as did Fleur but that was nothing compared to Molly.

Her gaze hardened and the twins shut up instantly, they’d never seen her this mad. “I dont care if you hate him, I don’t care if this isn’t my home...you speak of my son following HIM, get out of my sight now.” She said, slumping into a nearby chair. Bill stood up, putting his own hand in his mums which she took gratefully. “Percy may be the most ambitious lion around, but he wouldn’t join you know who. He left to join the ministry because that's what he believed in, death eaters isn’t even in the equation.”

And Bill meant those words. More than he ever thought he would.

“Though is there any difference between the death eaters and the ministry anymore?” Asked Harry, the place was filled with them after all. “Yeah? Might be but they’ve kept the employees, not that I know what’s going on in there anymore.” Said Arthur, adding his 2 galleon’s into the mix. “And there not going to take kindly to a Weasley” Said Hermione, making everyone look down as if they hadn’t just realised that.

It didn’t matter if Percy had disowned himself, his family was very much publicly fighting the people he was now stuck with.

And that was when fate decided to be extra cruel and the radio burst into life.

“Greetings from the Ministry. Our daily transmission has already been received today but we have an exceptional treat for the wizarding public. We will be instead hosting an interview with one of our newest employees, give a hand folks to Percival Ignatius Weasley.”

Everyone in the room froze, and yet Ron who was the only one of the family minus Fleur not to speak, ran to the radio and put the volume as loud as he could.

“Say hello your family, Percival.” Taunted the voice, it was very gleeful as it spoke. No response was heard. “Oh, silly me I forgot how many hours you young people work, not to worry let’s get him up boys.”

A splash was heard and a shuddering scream. “Morning Percival, sorry do you prefer Percy? Don’t care, lets start the interview. So Percival, how are you finding the ministry?” Everyone sat with baited breathe.

And yet it was there Percy who, through shuddered breaths managed to whisper a “fuck you...fuck you and your ministry”

“Well that is very rude, and here I thought your mother would have taught you manners” “don’t...don’t you talk about her.” Said Percy, Molly broke down into tears and Bill held her close. Unable to tear his gaze from the radio, no one could.

“What do you want to say them? I’m sure they’ve missed you. In fact, just for you we’ll be hosting a party. And there all invited to the ministry, so long as they bring a certain Mr Potter.”

There was a silence before “don’t come...don’t. Whatever you do, don’t... it’s fine. I’m fine, I love it here.” He laughed, everyone cringed at the sound he made, as if he was choking. “It’s fine, don’t come...parties are overrated yeah.” The transmission started cutting off, Ron frantically along with the twins tried to get it working.

They heard “too busy. Don’t come, Harry don’t...stay where you are!” Before the transmission cut off.

No one could speak, horror was etched into all of there faces. The twins were scrabbling over themselves with wand in hand to track where the transmission had come from.

The Ministry.

“We’re going...now�� said Molly, standing up. Her tears were gone, grabbing for her wand and coat. “Molly...be rationale, we need to plan this.” Said Arthur, Molly spun on her heel and glared. “I am not going to sit here while those...monsters torture MY son! Planning will take to long, did you hear him Arthur?! Did you hear your son crying out in pain...he doesn’t have long left...” Arthur looked down, unable to respond.

Molly looked at the rest of the family, her gaze saying it all: You can come with me or you can stay. The first to stand was Bill, closely followed by Fleur who met his thankful gaze with a determined smile. Charlie and Ron were next, grabbing there wands with Harry and Hermione following. Ginny and the twins exchanged guilty looks but stood. Arthur couldn’t look at any of them, he simply picked up his wand.

“Harry, I understand if you wish to stay” said Molly, he shook his head. “I might not know him well but Percy’s family 2...I cant sit here while you guys go even with the danger.” He replied, and somehow that was all it was, Percy was family...enough said.

And so the family of lions got up and left, to find the one they left behind.

_______________________________________________________

Percy was terrified.

A part of him argued that he should be grateful they came at all for him. Maybe it was out of pity, out of ensuring that he wasn't able to be used against them.

Yes, that's all it was. He was nothing afterall, he was merely a civilian in a war.

And yet hearing Molly tearfully and frantically whisper his name. Hearing Hermione yell the counterspell to his imprisonment to Ron who did so perfectly. Seeing the light of spells cast by Ginny and the twins to stun Not Edward... (Who was apparently called Edgar... Eh close enough.)

Feeling Charlie carry him in his arms, mumbling curse words. Smelling Arthur's cologne.

It all felt right. It was warmth that he couldn't remember experiencing. It was enough to lull him to a facade that everything was fine.

But when his wounds were healed and he saw them all looking at him... Percy knew he had to shelf that dream. "I told you not to come" was the first thing he said, averting his gaze. (Couldn't look them in the eye)

"And you must've lost a few screws if you thought we wouldn't" said Bill, meeting Percy's gaze. "You shouldn't have" is all he replied. "And what, let you be killed by the ministry?" Gaped Ginny. Percy shrugged "wouldn't have made much difference, you've only gone and put yourselves in more danger."

"Are you... Are you fucking with us right now?" Asked Fred, incredously. "No, im too busy ranting about cauldron bottoms to do that." And if Fred paused, Percy didn't see it.

Seeing as no one was getting anyway, Bill sat beside Percy who immediately felt on edge. "Thanks for the watch" he said simply. Everyone blinked in confusion and than realisation as no one has known where Bill's new watch had come from. Percy smiled faintly "You're welcome, reminded me of you."

"Although, I do wish you could've gave it in person" continued Bill, testing the waters. Percy surprised him by shaking his head "no you wouldn't have. It was your day, I wasn't going to ruin it." Bill frowned "is that what you think?" Percy shrugged again "it's what I've been told."

"You are way to chill after being tortured" said Charlie, Percy looked at his bandaged arms and snorted. "Eh? It's nothing new. That guy was just there for the theatrics, sadist if you ask me." Charlie raised an eyebrow "nothing new?" Percy nodded "yeah, what you think the ministry that's so far up Voldermorts ass would allow me to work there without some 'interviews'."

Everyone paled.

"But than why stay there?" Asked Arthur, Percy froze. Steeling himself, switching from calm to panic to calm in an instant but they all saw. "I've got business there, things I need to get done and ensure are done. Speaking of which, thanks for the rescue but I should be off."

He didn't belong here. Not anymore.

"Percy, you can stay." Said Molly, already standing up to get his room prepared. "No, I can't. I have work, I have a duty... And I'm no longer part of this family." When he said that, Percy felt like the wind was knocked out of him but stood his ground. "Percy... That's not true.."

Percy met Arthur's gaze, his father's eyes. "Really? Than pray tell why did no one tell me you were all in hiding... Or a warning? And don't say it was impossible because I managed to send a parcel to a location I didn't even know about nor knew existed."

No one could answer that.

"I'll be off, and don't worry I won't tell them anything. Just do what you do best, and leave me alone." Arthur managed to grab Percy's wrist though he hissed in pain and pulled his arm back like he'd been burnt. "Don't.. Touch me, Arthur Weasely."

Arthur recoiled, Percy looked away. "I spent my whole life wanting to be someone you could be proud off...I listened to all the critism and yes I was a prat. But the moment I made my own choice you already made me aware I didn't belong in my own house. I’m sorry...that I’m not athletic like Ginny, I’m not smart like Ron or as successful as Bill and Charlie, I’m not a hero like a Ron or fun like Fred and George. That I’m just plain ol prat Percy.”

He began to walk away. Just like he did before.

"That choice was against following Dumbledor, turning against the light." Said Molly, wanting him to understand. Percy laughed, with no humour at all but glaring hard. Rage emanated from him.

"I'm sorry if I choose not to stand behind an old coot who routinely sends an abused boy to his abusers, who nearly got 3 11 yearolds killed because he wanted to weed out a possibility. Who nearly got thousands of children killed and did nothing to save Ginny with the chamber. The man who wouldn't give an innocent man a trial and got him sent to the worst prison for 12 years... Who put teenagers in a death game and let an underage kid join because why not. That man is a monster and I refuse to follow someone like that. But no that means I'm blindly following authority." He sneered, staring at them all.

"And the ministry? Because as corrupt and fucked up as it is I know I can do something. That changes can be made in the systems to benefit everyone, Dumbledor is someone who breeds child solider’s and let's a known abuser teach at his school and somehow I’m the only one who isn't okay with that."

And with that Percy left, no one knew what to say. They simply sat in silence, absorbing everything they just heard. Ginny thought about how Percy had profusely apologised after she was free from the chamber, how he’d made time for her since than. Ron thought of all the times they’d have an adventure and Percy would watch over them like a mother hen.

Bill and Charlie recalled when Percy would still come to them for help before he started Hogwarts. When they found him bruised and broken from bullies except this was because of them. “He really thinks that doesn’t he...?” Said Fred, George nodded. Neither could smile, guilt pooled in their hearts that they didn’t think he felt like that.

Molly sobbed for her son who was once again lost and Arthur wondered where he had gone wrong to lose his son all over again.

________________________________________________

Meanwhile Percy entered a muggle flat in London. Alone again just like he belonged, laying on his bed and looking at the brand on his arm.

'Son of none'

And if that didn't hurt most of all.

Suffice to say they all things to think about for when they’d meet again.

#percy weasley #Percy Weasely deserved better #angst #self loathing #depression #Percy Weasely needs a hug #blood #Torture #swearing #Sorry if it's rushed

59 notes · View notes

mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

Text

Singing in the Shower (Ragnarssons x Reader)

This is just a silly little one-shot that came to mind that I could not stop thinking about. It got a bit deeper than I planned but oops?

Also my first time writing a Ragnarssons x reader! Please let me know if I did all the brothers justice. Except Bjorn isn’t in here. So its just the sons of Aslaug. Sorry, Bjorn.

Warnings: some brief mentions of abusive/unhealthy past relationships, reader has some insecurities, the brothers being the best roomies ever but also creepers, like one or two swear words, FLUFFY GOODNESS!!!

Words: 3700

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius

(picture is from Pinterest. Not mine.)

The sound of laughter echoed around you even before leaving your bedroom. It was a Sunday night so that meant the Lothbrok brothers were all over. A tradition Ubbe started some months ago to make sure the four brothers stayed connected in each other's lives. Every Sunday evening, all of them would congregate in the three bedroom flat you shared with Ubbe and Hvitserk. They would order a stack of pizzas and enough beer to put a pub crawl to shame, and watch movies or play video games until the early morning hours. Only twice had fist fights broken out between Sigurd and Ivar with just a table and a lamp damaged in the process, so Ubbe called it a win.

It had only been about a year that you lived with Ubbe and Hvitserk. Sigurd chose to move in with a couple members of the band he played in. Aslaug vehemently refused to let Ivar move out due to his many medical needs that she claimed he could only receive proper attention for at home. In equal parts rebellion and to escape his mother’s suffocating attention, Ivar spent the majority of his free time and nights crashing on the couch at your shared flat.

At first, you were hesitant about living with the two brothers, having only known them through friends, but you decided to give it a chance. Within a couple of months, you found the strange dynamics of your shared space and your vastly different relationships with each of the brothers to feel eerily familiar….like being home.

Standing at your door, you listened to the brothers for a few moments, smiling broadly as you heard Hvitserk taunting Sigurd about how he was going to beat his ass if he threw another blue shell at him. Meanwhile Ivar was yelling something about the undeniable magic of Yoshi and his winning streak. They must be playing Mario Kart again.

It was nice to hear them all getting along. Normally Sunday nights you hung out with your boyfriend to give the brothers privacy, even though all of them repeatedly told you it was unnecessary. That was until last week. You had taken a selfie on your boyfriend's phone and went to set it as his background to surprise him….and found nude pictures of other girls and the dick pics he sent them back. Before you stormed out of his flat, you may have thrown his phone against the wall, pleased when the screen shattered just like your trust. Then you came home and cried to Hvitserk about how you were swearing off men and just wanted to be a spinster for the rest of your life.

Word must have spread between the brothers. For the rest of the week, they all offered their support in various ways. Sigurd texted you a few times to check on you and remind you that clearly you were better off without your ex. Ubbe gave you long hugs as if trying to soak the pain out of you, and made sure you were eating and getting out of bed. Hvitserk surprised you with a new sugary treat every day ranging from Oreos to ice cream to chocolate muffins; then you two would cuddle on the couch indulging yourselves while watching movies. Ivar threatened to beat up your now ex-boyfriend for making you cry and take pictures to send to those girls your ex had been texting. You made sure to shut Ivar's idea down quickly but pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and thanked him for offering. You hated your ex, that did not mean you wanted him dead.

You pushed away from your door and down the hallway. Popping your head around the corner, you saw the brothers in various positions in the living room, eyes all glued to the TV and the race happening on-screen.

"I'm gonna shower." You announced, receiving grunts of affirmations as they were too focused to fully acknowledge you. Smiling at their antics, you headed into the bathroom, shutting the door and starting the shower up. Once the water was at the perfect temperature, you stripped and jumped in. Of course, once the mixture of hot water and steam helped you relax, you started singing to yourself, letting the worries of the day fade away for just a moment as the words flowed from your lips and echoed off the shower stall walls like your own little stage.

Unbeknownst to you, as soon as the bathroom door shut and the sound of water running could be heard, the volume on the TV was muted.

Ivar, surprisingly, was the first one to overhear your singing. He had come over to crash for a few hours after his latest doctor appointment and to work on an assignment for a University class. The bathroom door somehow had not fully latched when you closed it, cracking open while you were in the shower….and you started singing. Ivar sat stunned on the couch at the voice slipping out of the bathroom like a siren's song. He remained there, transfixed as you sang some song he had never heard but he could feel in his chest. Once you stopped singing and the shower turned off, he quickly jumped up and hobbled over to silently shut the door, slightly embarrassed by the idea of you catching him listening in to your shower singing.

Later that day after you headed out to work, Ivar asked Ubbe and Hvitserk if they had heard you sing yet. Both of them denied ever hearing you sing. When asked if he knew anything, Sigurd was upset, having asked you on multiple nights to go to a karaoke bar with him and some friends. You always refused by saying you sounded Iike a beached whale.

Ubbe was next to overhear. He was walking by the bathroom on the way to the kitchen when he heard your voice drifting from underneath the bathroom door. Feeling like a creeper but curiosity winning out, he pressed his ear to the bathroom door to listen better. To say he had been shocked was an understatement. Sure, he had heard Ivar praise your voice, but he figured his youngest brother was exaggerating. It made him wonder why you never sang in front of others.

A silent pact was made between the brothers that they would never share the information of your singing with anyone outside the four of them….and whenever you jumped in the shower, whoever was the closest would go and crack the bathroom door open so they could hear you better.

This time was no different.

Sigurd was closest, so after Ubbe paused the game, he jumped up and silently cracked open the door so your beautiful voice could flow out. The game picked back up but remained on mute so they could hear you. The first song you serenaded them with was Walk Me Home by Pink. Apparently, one of your new favorites since you sang it so often. Next was Someone Like You by Adele. By the third song, the brothers had abandoned the game and were solely focused on you and the raw emotion bleeding from your voice. This time you started to sing Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi.

Ubbe spoke up, keeping his voice quiet just in case you could hear them, however unlikely. "Has she said anything about her ex lately?"

"Not to me." Hvitserk answered first. "I thought she was doing fine."

"Just because she's not crying all the time doesn't mean she's fine." Ivar retorted harshly, never removing his eyes from the direction of the bathroom. After a moment, he got up and hobbled towards the bathroom.

"Ivar…. Ivar, what are you doing?" Ubbe hissed but was ignored.

As quiet as possible, Ivar walked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet lid; your singing managed to cover the sounds of his movement. As he rolled his head to the side, it was to find his brothers had followed him with varying expressions ranging from concern to amusement.

Normally you did not spend so long in the shower but today you decided to spoil yourself. You had been doing well all week but this morning you were scrolling through your Instagram and happened to stumble upon a picture of your ex with a new girl, smiling happily and kissing at a restaurant…. the day after you broke up. And seeing them together felt like it ripped a tear into the slowly healing pieces of your heart.

Instead of going out like you planned to do, you laid in bed all-day binge-watching movies and feeling like an idiot. So in the shower you took extra time pampering yourself, using a deep conditioner in your hair, shaving everywhere and just letting the hot water cascade down your skin and loosen the tense muscles.

At this point you were feeling a little better and decided it was best not to waste any more water. You turned the water off, running your hands down your body to get as much excess water off, before you reached for your towel. Grabbing the plush towel hanging on the rack, you quickly dried your hair and wrapped the towel around your body before pulling the curtain back….

Only to shriek as you realized you were not alone in the bathroom.

"What? What are you guys doing?" You demanded, eyes frantically darting between the four brothers.

Ivar sat on the toilet lid; head tilted as he watched you with a peculiar expression on his face. Hvitserk leaned against the sink, eyes darting from your towel-clad body to the floor then back up. Ubbe and Sigurd stood in the doorway, both looking the least comfortable but still not moving.

"We, ah, we were…. well, we are concerned for you." Ubbe said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Concerned?" You asked incredulously.

Ivar ignored your question. "Is this about your ex? Want me to pay him a visit?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Your singing. They were sad songs." Sigurd answered, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

Heat flooded your face. You dropped your head, staring at the bathroom floor as you clutched the towel closer to your body. Honestly, the idea of them hearing your singing was far more humiliating than them seeing you naked at this point. "You…. you heard me…. singing?"

"Y/n, are you OK? You know you can tell us anything." Hvitserk said, trying to meet your eye.

"Um, can…. can we talk about this when…. when I'm not naked?"

"Of course. Come on, brothers." Ubbe quickly agreed, tapping the door as if to signal. He and Sigurd walked away first. Only when you finally met Hvitserk's eye did he push off the sink and head out but not before giving you a flirty wink.

"Ivar…."

He slouched back, folding his hands behind his head. "I'm quite comfortable here."

"Oh gods, please, Ivar." You begged, almost on the verge of tears.

He stared at you a long moment before pushing himself to his feet. "Don't think you're getting out of this."

"Ok."

Appeased, he made his way out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Once alone, you stepped out of the shower only to drop onto the toilet lid and place your head in your hands. Your chest heaved and your eyes stung as you fought back the tears that threatened to fall. Today was bad enough and now this. It had to be something out of a nightmare. Your own personal hell.

When you finally composed yourself, you quickly changed into your comfiest sweats and tank top. You wished you could make a run for your room, anything to avoid the impending conversation but you knew the brothers would follow, they were all stubborn and persistent when they wanted to be.

With a deep breath, you stepped out of the bathroom and towards the living room. What hushed disagreement the brothers were clearly having abruptly ended when they noticed you. Awkwardly you remained standing, unsure where to sit. The only open spots were on the couch between Hvitserk and Ivar or one of the recliners as Ubbe sat in the other one. Sigurd reclined on the rocker gaming chair on the floor.

Averting your eyes, you started towards the open recliner only to have a strong arm snake around your waist as you passed by and pulled you onto the couch. You squeaked as you suddenly found yourself perched on Ivar's lap. Somewhere you had certainly never been before.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked, a cocky grin spread across his face.

"Um, over there." You nodded your head towards the other open spot.

"No, you're sitting here now."

"Stop hogging her, brother." Hvitserk reached over and dragged you off Ivar. Somehow you ended up with your back against Hvitserk's side, his arm slung around you and your legs across Ivar's lap, him slowly running his hand up and down them.

Ubbe raised an eyebrow at the three of you. "Are you done yet?"

"I thought we were just fine but I guess Hvitty had other plans." Ivar snarked, rolling his eyes.

"We're good now." Hvitserk said with a cheesy smile, making you giggle.

"So how are you really doing, y/n?" Ubbe asked, staring at you with those knowing blue eyes.

"Um, I'm alright. Today was just…. rough." At the four questioning looks, you quickly explained about what you found this morning on Instagram.

Ivar slapped the armrest of the couch. "I'm beating his ass now and nothing you say can stop me."

You snagged his other hand that was still on your leg and clasped it, as if that alone could diminish his deadly intent. "Please don't. He's not worth it. I just…. I just want to move on. Ok?"

He grumbled, but eventually gripped your hand and gave it a single squeeze in acknowledgement.

Now here was the part that petrified you; but you needed to know.

"Um, how…. how long have…. was this your first time?" Your words stumbled out, making you cringe at how ineloquent it was.

"What are you talking about?" Sigurd drawled; one foot propped up so he slowly rocked in the gaming chair.

You licked your lips, your mouth suddenly dry. You dropped your gaze, as you whispered your answer. "My….my singing."

"What? You sound bloody brilliant! The others have heard you more than me but you always sound amazing!" Sigurd exclaimed, a beaming smile on his face. "I don't know why you haven't gone out with me before! Oh! I'd love for you to try and sing in my band, we could use an amazing vocalist like you! Gods, we could get way more gigs with a beautiful woman like you upfront singing."

Soon as Sigurd started talking, you covered your face with your hands. The tears you managed to repress earlier flooded back. Your shoulders hunched over, cowering into yourself at the revelation. They had all heard you. Apparently more than just this one time. It was mortifying. Long ago you stopped singing in front of others, no longer able to face the ridicule, the degrading comments always thrown your way. And now, these brothers that you had become so close to…. if they said anything negative towards you right now, you were sure your heart would fully break and no lyric would ever pass your lips again.

Hvitserk shifted behind you, turning you so he could wrap both arms around your waist and place his cheek against the side of your head. "Y/n, talk to us."

You shook your head, the barely suppressed tears and poisoned words clogging your throat.

Abruptly, a pair of calloused hands grabbed yours, forcing them away from your face. You were immediately met by a pair of piercing blue eyes, only inches from your face.

"Whose ass am I killing now? Huh?" Ivar demanded in a low, menacing tone. Between his tone and the fury burning in his eyes, you knew he meant his question, and that sent a nervous chill down your spine.

"It's not…. it’s nothing."

"Bullshit." Ivar spat.

Hvitserk nuzzled your temple, his voice lighter but still with an edge of steel in it. "I agree with Ivar. Something happened."

Biting your bottom lip, you closed your eyes. There were a few things that were just too painful to talk about and this one, they had unknowingly stumbled upon.

"Was it your mother?"

Your eyes flew open, your head snapped over to stare at Ubbe in shock. He met your gaze unflinchingly, and somehow you knew he already figured at least part of it out. He accidentally overheard a phone conversation between you and your mother one time and once you got off the phone, he immediately pulled you into a bone-crushing hug and promised you never had to see her again if you never wanted to, that they would take care of you. Of course, you cried all over him after he promised that.

Ubbe leaned forward in the recliner, placing his elbows on his knees, gaze still intent on you. "What did she do?"

"She…. she hated when I sang. Said I was just desperate for attention. That I needed to just shut up. That no one would want to listen to me anyway. If she ever caught me singing…. once she duct-taped my mouth shut."

You could hear the gasps at your confession, followed by a round of curses. Hvitserk pressed a kiss to your temple, tightening his hold on you. Ivar squeezed your hands, still holding them within his own.

Ubbe nodded as if not surprised. He ran a hand down his face and sighed before stealing your gaze once again. "I have a feeling she wasn't the only one to hurt you."

At this point, a silent tear trekked down your cheek. You sniffled, dropping your gaze down. "I had an ex who used to make fun of my singing. He used to say 'at least you're pretty'. When we would ride together listening to music, he would tell me to stop singing and 'leave it to the professionals'. At some point, it just….it was better to not sing in front of anyone. So I only sang in the shower cause I thought no one would hear me."

Hvitserk turned your head, looking into your eyes. "Baby, listen to me. Your singing is incredible. We all love listening to you sing. Please don't be embarrassed about this with us."

"I'd love for you to walk around the house singing, I could happily listen to that all day." Ubbe said, a tender smile on his lips.

"I second that!"

"Sig, you're only here on Sundays." Ubbe glanced over at his brother.

Sigurd shrugged. "So? I could listen to her sing all day. Maybe she should move in with me and actually be appreciated."

"No! You're not stealing her from us!" Hvitserk said, practically cradling you against him, like a puppy afraid to lose its favorite toy.

"It's not stealing if she wants to go!"

Ivar butted in. "I am more interested in this other shitty ex and mother...can I find them?"

"No, Ivar. You have to stop threatening people."

"Why?" He whined at you, tugged on your hands, your legs still across his lap. "You won't let me teach them a lesson so all I can do is threaten."

"Also sounds like you have terrible taste in guys. Anymore shitty exes we should know about?" Sigurd asked, rocking his chair.

You figured at this point you were spilling all your dirty secrets so what was one more. "Um, I was talking to this one guy but when he found out I moved in here, he called me a whore for moving in with two brothers and told me I was a waste of his time." You softly admitted, having made sure none of them ever heard about that after it happened.

For a moment there was dead silence then….

"I'm going to need his name right now." Ubbe said, malice dripping off every word.

"Yeah! Let's cut his tongue out! See what he says about that!" Ivar cheered.

You could not stop the laughter that came out. The idea that these brothers got so worked up over anyone that ever insulted or hurt you was both sweet and slightly infuriating, but mostly sweet. No one had ever cared about you as strongly as these four brothers.

"It's fine now. How about this? Next guy to hurt me, I promise I'll give you his name."

"No! I want to cut this asshole's tongue out. Maybe slap him with it after!" Ivar smiled with a pure predatory look.

"I think you should just date one of us." Sigurd shrugged, watching everyone with a smirk. "Then you know he'd treat you right."

"I like this idea." Hvitserk smiled, squeezing you lightly. "We would romance the hell out of you."

"You guys are being silly. I don't even know what romance would look like." You giggled at the absurd idea. All the brothers were gorgeous in their own ways and could pick up any girl they wanted, why would they want you? Besides, your relationships were just platonic. "Is the interrogation over now? Want me to leave so you can get back to your game?"

"Nope, you're stuck here." Ivar said, leaning on you now so you were sandwiched between the two brothers.

Ubbe chuckled. "We've told you before, you are welcome to hang out with us. Why don't we put in a movie?"

After many arguments and some mild threats, a movie was finally chosen. You settled against Hvitserk, facing the TV, as you played with Ivar's hair, his head now in your lap.

As you watched the movie, you missed the silent conversation between the brothers happening around you. It was decided that your next boyfriend would certainly be one of them and in the meantime, they were all going to romance the hell out of you and make sure you understood how important and incredible you are.

Starting with making sure you sang whenever you wanted.

#vikings #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #ivars heathen army #ivar the boneless #ivar imagine #ubbe #ubbe ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson #sigurd #sigurd ragnarsson #hvitserk #hvitserk ragnarsson #vikings imagine #modern vikings #roommates #mzwrites

271 notes · View notes

youngbeezer · 3 years

Note

You should do sharing a milkshake with Kevin Hayes!!!

Referenced Post

Prompt-- 8. Sharing a milkshake (w Kevin Hayes)

A/N: Here's another blurb from the 14 oddly romantic things blurb set. Ok, so I'm sorry this kind of took forever to finish (I was having major writing block). I also don't think this turned out that good but..

Thanks for requesting, hope you like it

Word Count: 1459 (also turned out way longer than I imagined)

Warning(s): none i dont think ?

join my taglist :)

The final buzzer echoed throughout the half full arena, signalling the end of the 2020-2021 Flyers season. I wait a few minutes up in the press box, surrounded by all the other family members and WAGS. We all watch the players give their final appreciations to the loyal fans in the stadium and make their way through the tunnel.

I let out a little sigh when I saw everyone else in the room start making their way out the door and to the locker room. I take one more final moment to take in all my surroundings before we all leave this place for a good few months. I watch the few remaining fans weave their way through the seats, the zambonis making their way onto the ice, and the janitors getting a head start on cleaning.

“Hey a/n, you coming?” Ryanne, one of my closest friends and the captain's wife, asks.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” I sheepishly rush out as I rise from my seat to meet her at the doorway. She gives me a knowing smile before leading the way down to the locker room.

When we finally make it down there, a few of the guys have already started making their way out. Claude is one of them, and as he comes over he gives me a half smile trying to put on a brave face. I give him a quick hug and assure him,

“Great season cap.”

“Thanks y/n.” He gives me a genuine smile at that and another pat on the back before making his way over to his family.

I wait patiently for my boy to make his way out, and occasionally give a few of the other guys hugs and reassurances. Finally, I see Kevin walk through the locker room door trailing behind Nolan Patrick, who both make their way over once they spot me in the crowd. Nolan makes his way over to me first and says a quiet “hey” before going in for a much needed hug.

I don’t say much except for the standard, “I’m proud of you”, “you played great,” and give him a few back rubs. But once I see my boyfriend finally make his way over here, I give Nolan one last smile before wrapping my arms around Kevin’s neck and pulling him as close to me as possible. He immediately buries his head into the crook of my neck, where I notice a few wet spots hit my skin. I bring my hand up to tangle in his hair and soothe sweet nothings into his ear to try and calm him down.

“I love you so much Kev. No matter what happens or how the season ended, I am always going to be so incredibly proud of you.” I reassured softly, giving his shoulder a few sporadic kisses.

He eventually pulls away clearing his throat and gives me a gentle smile. He brings me in for a sweet kiss that tells me all I need to know. That he appreciates me and my words, and that he’s going to be okay.

“Hayesy, you two coming out with us?” Scott questions us, giving me a quick smile before bringing his attention back to my boyfriend.

“Nah we’re gonna have to pass on this one, sorry.” He answers, giving me a knowing look.

“No problem. See you soon bud. Bye y/n.” Scott gives Kevin a little pat on the back and me a quick hug and then makes his way out of the arena with his girlfriend and the rest of the group who are going out.

Now Kevin and I have always had a tradition that we started back when he was still playing with the Rangers. After a particularly tough game for Kev, he didn’t want to go out with the team, but he also didn’t want to go back home and sulk. So, on our way home from the game, we ended up coming across this diner. We went in, got some food, talked for hours, and we shared a milkshake. We always share a milkshake. Even though it is not technically on Kevin’s diet plan for hockey, it is a comfort food (and if we’re being honest, I drink more than half of it most of the time anyway) but it always seems to do the trick of making the night a little bit better. Now after games, Kevin just needs to give me one simple look, and I know right away that it’s a diner night.

I grab ahold of Kevin’s hand and wait for him to grab his hockey bag before trekking through the Wells Fargo Center and out to the parking lot. We got lucky that when we moved to Philly, we straight away found a cute little diner like 10 minutes from the stadium. So as soon as Kev’s bags are in the trunk and we are both situated in our seats, I start the engine and make my way towards one of our favorite spots.

Luckily when we arrive, there are barely any other customers so we get seated right away. Our waiter, Sally, waltz’s right over to us with her ever present grin.

“Hey you two. It’s good to see you again!” She greets us. Sally was our waiter the first time that we came here and right away warmed our hearts with her happy go lucky personality and charming presence. And every time we came here again, she always walked straight over to our table to greet us and get our usual order. She has been a huge part of making this place such a great escape.

Kevin’s face brightens up with Sally’s presence and he replies back, “It’s good to see you too Sally. How are the kids?”

“Oh they’re great hun. Thanks for asking.” She beams. “Can I get you guys your usual?”

“Yes please.” I smiled at her. Sally nods back and makes her way into the kitchen to place our order.

I bring my attention back to my boyfriend to find him already with his eyes on me. He intertwined our hands together, and even brought one of them up to his lips to give a little kiss.

“Thank you for being here with me.” He confided.

“Of course Kev. I meant what I said earlier. I am so so proud of you and of everything that you accomplished this season.” I declared back.

Before he could say anything else, Sally arrived back at our table with our order.

“Here you are darlin’s. A chocolate milkshake. With two straws.” She gave me a quick wink before retreating behind the diner counter.

“You know you’re seasons technically over… so we could have both gotten our own milkshakes. I wouldn’t have told anyone.” I tease a little.

Kevin scoffs a little before retorting back, “You’re only saying that because you just want an entire milkshake to yourself.”

I let out a giggle and gave him a shrug before taking the first sip of the chocolate heaven.

“I’m just kidding Kev. I wouldn’t change our tradition for the world.” I genuinely smile back at him.

Kevin is silent for a moment and just continues to stare at me as I [religiously] sip the chocolate milkshake.

“You know I love you right?” Kevin claimed.

I pause mid-sip to look back up at him. My face softens at the fondness I see on his face and I go to give his hand a quick squeeze.

“Of course. I love you too.”

“C'mere.” He smirks at me, beckoning me to meet him halfway across the table. Our lips meet into a passionate kiss that speaks volumes on how we are both feeling at this exact moment. There is absolutely no one else either of us would rather be here with at this moment, in a tiny little diner pouring our hearts out to each other after the Flyers season just ended.

From New York, to Winnipeg, to now Philadelphia. No matter where we both are, as long as we have each other, then that’s all we need. But Sally and this chocolate milkshake are a great bonus.

“Mhm, that’s good.” Kev mumbles against my lips as he pulls away.

I chuckle confusedly and raise my eyebrows up at him before asking, “What, my lips?”

“Nah, the milkshake. You taste like it.”

Now I am full on cackling in this tiny diner, causing every head to turn in our direction. Out of the corner of my eye I see Sally smiling from ear to ear watching us.

I shake my head at my ridiculous boyfriend, who is now practically gulping down sips of the milkshake and I bemusedly reflect,

“God, I love you so much.”

Taglist: @heatherawoowoo @barzysandmarnersbitch @joelsfarabees @barzy-xoxo @hockeyplayerstories

Tagging a few othr people so this doesn't flop,,,,

@luukasreichel @jamiesdrysdales @frederikanderson @carepriceisgoodathockey @lovereadinghockeyy @prettyboyjackhughes @gigissports @cherrylita @turcsandzegras @iwantahockeyhimbo @bb-nhlqueen7 @2manytabsopen

#kevin hayes #kevin hayes imagine #philadephia flyers #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic #nhl moodboard #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey blurb #hockey fic #my writing #hope you liked it!#14 oddly romantic things blurb set #claude giroux #nolan patrick #scott laughton #flyers #philly

68 notes · View notes

tyblackthornlovebot · 3 years

Text

End Up Here || Reggie Peters x Fem! Reader

Summary: Reggie seems to find you the coolest and most enthralling girl he has ever seen. He wishes he could find the way to your heart. The only problem? He is dead, you’re not.

Pairing: Reggie Peters x Fem! Reader.

Word count: 2k

Warning: None that I can think of. Maybe one mention of them being dead? Reggie being his clumsy cute self.

Requested?: Yes, thanks for requesting! “hey! what about a reggie x fem reader based on that 5sos song, “end up here”? with a fluffly ending if that’s possible? ty!”

A/N: This was my first fic so I hope you enjoy it! If you had something different in mind or want to request anything else, please feel free to do so. I had so much fun and loved writing this one!

Once again Luke and Alex had told him to give up on you, that he had no chance. They didn't want to see how, without even knowing it, you ended up breaking his heart.

Once again Reggie had decided to ignore them and to go see you at high school.

He knew they were only trying to protect him, save him from getting hurt.

He even tried to fight those growing feelings but it didn’t seem to work so he resigned himself.

He was just too fascinated by the way you acted. The way you didn't seem to care what other people thought about you.

Like every morning since they showed up at Julie's garage he watched as the doors of high school opened. And among the crowd of students it wasn’t long until he located you.

At first he went there because he was curious. After so many years without going to high school Reggie wanted to see how everything had changed.

Once he saw you there, so calm, so immersed in your own world, he knew that high school wouldn’t be the only thing that would change for him that day.

From that moment on he discovered that never before, not even in his previous life, had he wanted to attend high school as much as he wanted now.

At the beginning it was nothing more than pure intrigue. Reggie felt attracted to you. There was no doubt you were the type of girl who would catch his attention. So he decided to do some research on his little crush, without telling anyone just yet.

As the days went by he found himself following you to all of your classes. Marveling at the way you didn't seek attention, yet you always managed to catch it.

From the way you walked down the hallway, seemingly without a care in the world, with your headphones on. He wondered what kind of music would you be into.

To the way you always seemed to know the correct answer when asked, despite spending all your time drawing in your notebook. He found it to be so alluring, how clever you were without having to try too hard.

Soon his friends began to notice, seeing how he disappeared daily early in the morning. And how he would come back whenever Julie did.

First they thought that perhaps he was beginning to catch feelings for their mutual friend, the only person that could see them. As they found out later when following him, that wasn’t the case.

They asked him about you, how he felt towards you, what your name was, when did he start going to see you at high school. Endless questions that Reggie was more than willing to answer. A little embarrassed, but excited for being able to finally talk about you with his best friends.

Even if his crush was a little one-sided he thought they would be there to support him, just as he had done many times twenty-five years ago.

Unfortunately for him he soon realized that he wouldn’t have the same luck. Luke and Alex, after listening to him, decided to list each and every reason why continuing to go see you was a terrible idea.

And maybe they were right. They were probably right. But Reggie didn't need anyone to tell him the truth, he needed them to be there for him and for them to be supportive. After all, he was old enough to make his own decisions. If he ended up getting hurt it would be his fault, because he decided so. Not because his friends told him what to do.

That was the reason why he was there once again, sitting on the empty seat behind yours in your mathematics class.

Not that he was too interested on the subject, but he was entertained by watching you draw.

When the bell rang, announcing the end of that class, Reggie said goodbye with a small sigh. He had to leave earlier that day, so he didn’t have time to accompany you to your last class.

He hated having to leave you, even if you weren’t going to notice, but he had to go and get ready. That afternoon Julie would perform a song in front of the whole high school. As her friends they were going to be there to support her.

So this is how he found himself a few hours later, in the high school gym with his bandmates and Julie, watching a group called Dirty Candy perform.

Although he had to admit the choreography was good and the girls were talented, it couldn't be said he was too focused on them. He was busy looking for you.

The whole high school was there, so you must be there too somewhere in the stands.

He only stopped looking for you when he saw the principal begin to give her speech. The stands were completely silent and it was becoming a bit uncomfortable.

The three of them encouraged Julie to go up on stage. They knew this was her chance and they didn't want her to miss it.

Having finished the performances and the speech, Julie took the stage but the students in the audience also began to stand up. The three ghosts encouraged her so she would feel brave enough to start performing.

Luke had been helping her with the song, not wanting him nor Alex to see what both of them were working on. Now Reggie knew why, as he turned around to look at his friend, surprised.

That was a Sunset Curve song with a few piano changes. One they hadn’t released.

Even if you couldn't see him maybe their music would end up making you feel something. That would be much better than nothing, Reggie thought, unable to prevent a huge smile from forming on his lips.

And then, suddenly, there they were. Up on stage with their instruments in their hands.

Reggie couldn't say which of them was more surprised, but he couldn't miss the opportunity. Now that he knew you could see him he had to give his best, play like he had never done before.

He looked for you again in the crowd with his eyes finally falling on you.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw you cheer them on. At that moment he swears he could have started crying but he forced himself to maintain his composure. For the band’s and his image’s sake but also because he didn’t want you to think he was crazy.

On the other hand, you were thinking about how grateful you were that your best friend had convinced you to go with them.

Before that you had come to wonder if it was worth attending, seeing as every year the principal gave the same speech. However that year nothing was the same. One second you were bored to death, wishing you had skipped it as you intended to do at the beginning. The next it seemed like you were in a concert, far away from your high school gym, as you cheered to the rhythm of the music.

Julie and you weren't close friends, but you shared some classes and you got along well enough.

You were surprised and happy to see how she managed to get on that stage, overcoming that fear that until now prevented her from singing.

The fact that she was later joined by three mysterious boys made the performance even better. All three were handsome, that was undeniable. But your gaze was fixed on the boy in the plaid shirt and white t-shirt, unable to tear it away.

There was something alluring about him, in the energy he gave off while playing his bass. And when he approached the boy in the beanie to sing with him, you were amazed. His voice, even if it wasn't as loud as the beanie boy’s, had the same power. A power that seemed not only to affect you, judging by how those who were around you reacted.

Besides, he knew how to connect so well with their public that it made you feel as if his gaze was fixed on you all the time, you thought.

Then suddenly and without warning they disappeared as soon as the song ended.

Seeing how everyone gasped, puzzled, Julie decided to explain the situation. Those boys were holograms and the projector operation involved algorithms and science stuff.

Everyone seemed to agree with that explanation, bored by the technicalities of science. But Julie didn't count on the fact that someone would be very curious about the holograms and how they worked. That someone being you.

“Y/N, we should get going. As amazing as that was, everyone has started to leave.”

“I think I’m going to stay and ask Julie a few questions.” You told your best friend.

“Like, c’mon. There’s a way you can connect with hot musicians and no one is interested in how to do that? Really, just me? Alright, then!” They smiled at your antics, shaking their head.

“You sure?” They asked, to make sure you would be fine going home alone.

“Positive.” You nodded your head, smiling back at them reassuringly.

It took you a couple more minutes, but you finally managed to get them to leave without them feeling guilty. By then the gym was already empty, except for the music teacher and the principal who were talking to Julie.

When they left you realized Flynn was there as well. She approached her best friend with a not so friendly expression. You preferred not to get in the way, stepping aside to give them privacy.

It was hard not to hear their conversation. Thinking that there was no one left in the gym, they didn’t speak in a low tone, and the echo of that place increased the volume of their words. And still, you tried.

You were there when Flynn ran out, therefore when Julie ran after her. And you, without much choice, behind Julie. You would have felt really bad if after that scene you witnessed you hadn't tried to cheer her up. At least you wanted to apologise for overstepping and hearing their conversation. Even if you didn’t do that on purpose.

You also had more questions than ever, that much was clear, but the main thing was to make sure Julie felt better after all that.

Dodging Nick you saw Julie in the distance, entering one of the classrooms.

Accelerating your pace you managed to reach her. She was silent so you took that as the perfect opportunity to ask her if she was doing alright.

But before you could step into the classroom she started screaming, scaring you to death and making you jump.

“You! Stop doing that! I’m serious.” You heard her say. You wondered who she would be talking to. That also made you decide that you wouldn't come out of your hide spot just yet. What if she had found Flynn and you ruined their moment? It would be better not to move, to avoid making any noise.

“Yeah, the whole school saw you. It’s kinda freaking me out.” She kept talking to apparently no one. Most likely with someone who spoke in a low voice, because from your hiding place you couldn’t hear any other voices. At that point you were pretty sure she wasn’t talking to Flynn. But still, you were in a compromising situation. If you came out of hiding, she would think you were spying on her. It would be better to just wait and hope she would end up leaving soon.

“Are you kidding? They loved us. That was a great song, Luke”. That’s when you realized she was talking to her hologram band.

You hoped you weren't interrupting anything important. But Julie seemed to be in a better mood and the facetime conversation you thought she was having could be the perfect ice breaker for your questions. Maybe you could even talk for a bit to the bassist who had caught your eye. It wasn’t every day that you had the opportunity to talk to three Swedish talented musicians.

So you decided to pluck up your courage and entered the classroom.

“Julie…? Who are you talking to?” Reggie heard your voice fill with worry, as your eyes scanned the room. Then he thought about the big mess they were in.

Julie tried to find a reasonable excuse, but you had heard too much. Both at the time and with the conversation she had had with Flynn, to know that she was lying to you.

“I’m sorry, it really isn’t any of my business. Just wanted to make sure you were alright. Had a few questions about that band of yours, as well. But again, none of my business, sorry.” You ended up shrugging your shoulders. Without looking for more answers. After all, it really wasn’t any of your business. And if she had fought her best friend for lying, you wouldn’t be the one to whom she ended up confessing. “But really, you doing alright?” You sounded concerned and they couldn’t help but feel some sympathy for you.

“Julie.” Reggie called her. “Could we… Maybe we can tell her?” He turned around to face his friends, with something that sounded similar to a plea in his voice.

“Dude, she’s so far out of your league.” Luke jokingly told him. “But if it makes you happy I say we tell her. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“Besides everything, you mean?” Alex asked rhetorically. “But I have the feeling that whatever I say you're not going to listen to me, so…”

Julie was listening to them talk, wondering what was the best decision to make.

As Reggie watched your puzzled face, he thought about the possible questions that might had been going through your mind. What was going on? Why the sudden silence?

“Well, Y/N. I think it’s better that I tell you the truth, seeing the insistence of some.” Finally, Julie decided to speak. You seemed more and more confused, even a little offended by that last comment, but decided to let her finish talking. “Come to my house tomorrow afternoon. I’ll show you what all of this is about.”

Reggie could read the curiosity on your face. After so many days watching you, it wasn’t difficult for him to distinguish your emotions. Although, honestly, he was also curious and really excited to know what Julie had planned.

The next day passed quickly for the phantoms, but not for you.

It was the weekend, so Reggie hadn’t been able to see you yet. He had spent the whole morning rehearsing and doing some breathing exercises. His new friend Google had told him it was a good way to keep calm.

You, on the other hand, were so eager to know the answers to your questions that as soon as the time agreed with Julie arrived you were already knocking on her door. More punctual than ever.

It took her two minutes to open the door for you. Not that Reggie was counting… Well, alright, he was counting. But he was impatient.

Since Julie had told them her idea he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, about you. He had even dressed up for the occasion, wearing a white t-shirt with the In Utero logo on it. One of his favorites that had been left in Julie’s garage.

He had combined it with his black leather jacket and ripped black pants. Black shoes and his red flannel shirt tied at the waist. His pendant clinking every time he moved, in a rather attractive way.

Julie (and Reggie, even though you couldn't see him) went to greet you at the door, smiling as soon as she saw you. She was a bit nervous, but determined.

“Let's go to the garage, what I want to show you is there.” She told you, impatient to get there. But Reggie couldn't blame her, he was feeling the same or even worse. “But first, do you want something to drink?” The ghost snorted, which earned him a bad look from Julie. He knew it was polite to offer something to your guests, but this wait was going to be the death of him once more.

“Not really, thanks, I'm fine. Nervous, but fine.” You let out a nervous chuckle, which made Reggie look at you enrapturedly. Julie just smiled with amusement, without saying a word to either of you about it.

Then she made you follow her to the garage. You looked around with curiosity, trying to figure out what she would like to show you. There were two pianos and a sofa there. Interesting objects, but still not enough to find out what was going through Julie’s head.

“I know this might sound a little bit crazy, Y/N.” She started. With that she managed to peak your interest, you were all about crazy. “But… you remember those guys that were playing with me yesterday?”

“The cute hologram musicians? Sure.” You nodded your head, while laughing. It was hard to forget them, especially a certain bass player.

"Yes, I suppose I am talking about them." Julie tried to suppress a laugh with your answer, as she watched Reggie's face flush completely, before continuing to speak. "Let's just say they're not exactly holograms. And that… they might be listening to you right now."

Your eyes widened, as you felt a little embarrassed. But immediately curiosity took hold of you and you went back to searching the entire garage, looking for a mobile phone or any reasonable device. Finding nothing, you frowned, confused.

“What do you mean by that, Julie? I can’t find anything and I have been looking since we entered your garage.” Now you were focusing on her. You felt like she was going to tell you everything, whatever that was, and you wanted to be ready.

“They are… ghosts.” She said slowly, trying not to scare you. “They are here, but you can only see them when we play together.”

It sounded like another one of her lies, like the one she had tried to tell you the day before in that classroom. But this one sounded so crazy, you thought it might be fun to go along with it. After all, if she had invited you to go there, it must have been to tell you something important, not to lie to you again. That ghost part could wait, you just wanted some answers.

“So they are musician ghosts?” You asked, still playing along. Julie could tell from your tone that you didn't quite believe it. But it was a matter of time, she thought.

“Well, they say they prefer to be called musician spirits. But technically, yes.” Then she turned to what seemed to be the void and talked. “All right, guys. You ready?”

You stayed silent, staring at her like she had grown a second head.

“Actually, can you sit there? Reggie needs some space to rock out and he feels kinda weird walking through you.” You nodded as you went to sit on the sofa that you had previously spotted, still not saying a word. You were starting to get worried, seeing as she had even named the ghosts. “You must have already noticed that there’s no plug or equipment that will produce a hologram. But you can double check, if you want.”

You shook your head. You didn't need to check anything, there definitely wasn't. But you still weren't sure what Julie’s plan was. So you kept quiet, just focusing on what she was telling you.

“We're going to play Bright one more time. It will be just like in high school, but this time you'll know the truth as well.” Julie was explaining everything to you with a smile, but Reggie thought it wasn't going to be like in high school at all. There they were alone, singing exclusively to you. As he ran his hand through his hair, in a gesture of sheer nervousness, he prayed that everything would go well. “Hope you like it.”

While Julie started to sing and play the piano, Reggie felt as Luke squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. He turned to see Alex, who offered him a small smile. This time he took notice of how his friends supported him and that made him gain a little self-confidence. He was ready.

Y/N had to suppress a scream as the ghosts appeared in front of her with their instruments. Any doubts that she might have had thus far had disappeared with the appearance of the three boys. There was no way to fake that. There was no logical explanation, but there was also no evidence that denied what she was seeing.

It all seemed crazy, just as Julie had told her at the beginning, but she had always wondered what happened after death. Finally accepting that she was surrounded by three ghosts, it was her chance to ask them all the questions she could think of.

Besides, if ghosts were real she could always have had a worse encounter.

But young, talented and handsome musician spirits? It definitely could have been worse.

Once she was no longer frightened, almost halfway through the song, she was able to allow herself to enjoy the melodic voice of the ghost that had caught her attention and admire the delicate way in which he played his bass.

At that moment she decided that ghost or not, she would like to listen to their entire setlist if she continued to see and listen to his voice that way. Besides, she had always loved that style of music.

Reggie approached her, cautiously not to scare her and Y/N greeted him with what she hoped would look like a captivating smile. It seemed to work, as he immediately blushed.

“Hi, I’m Reggie.” He introduced himself with a goofy smile, while failing to look cool. Not that he needed to do so. She already found him adorable and that was way better than looking cool.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Reggie.” Reggie loved the way she pronounced his name. An angelic sound to his ears. “Love the shirt, by the way. In Utero, one of their best albums.”

Reggie had to remember not to stop playing and to grip the bass tightly, because he almost dropped it in surprise. Y/N liked Nirvana. Would she loudly snore at night? Would she eat strange food combinations? He wondered. There was no way such a perfect girl could exist.

After that exchange of words the rest of the band introduced themselves. Reggie and her talked until it got dark, while the band kept playing different songs so that she wouldn’t stop seeing him.

It was hard having to say goodbye. In a single afternoon they had both connected with each other as they had never managed to do with anyone else.

Reggie was afraid he would never see her again. Or rather, that she would never see him again. It was on her to decide whether she wanted to or not, and that was what Reggie feared the most.

He had had such an awesome afternoon with her that he hadn't even considered never seeing each other again. But when it was time to say goodbye, all the doubts and insecurities suddenly overwhelmed him. Had she had an afternoon as pleasant as he had? Would she like to see him again?

"See you tomorrow? I'll get my bass. You still have to teach me how to play Livin' On A Prayer, I love that song."

All his doubts were dispelled when she gave him that warm smile, with which only she managed to warm him up inside.

And with that Reggie knew that he would continue to accompany her to class, although this time she would know. And he would send her notes, as he had recently learned to do.

They would also keep organizing small concerts for as long as she wanted, just so they could see each other.

It might not be perfect, nor ideal, but it would be one day. Meanwhile they would figure ways to make it work.

At the moment Reggie was happier than ever. He never imagined that he would end up getting to know the girl of his dreams. Much less that she would also end up being interested in getting to know him.

As he grinned to himself, while walking her home, he couldn’t help himself but wonder: how did we end up here?

#reggie x reader #reggie peters x reader #jatp x reader #reggie peters #jatp imagine #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms x reader #julie and the phantoms imagine #reggie peters imagine

220 notes · View notes