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sherbet-shark · 2 years

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Malleus, Kalim, Leona and Riddle with a very expressive and excitable s/o that can't speak, headcanons

A Quiet Love

|〘 ⋇ Summary:〙| Head cannons with a non-verbal but expressive and excitable mc with their twst boy.

Author’s note: Oooh! This is my first time doing multiple boys for head canon in a while! Thank you for requesting! But I’m assuming that you’re requesting a nonverbal mc that’s excitable and expressive? I’ve done research on this topic and tried to be as respectful as possible but while I am not nonverbal. In my early life did have a speech disorder making it hard for me to speak/not want to speak. If there are any errors that anyone finds in this request I humbly ask for criticism and forgiveness.

◦ Ok, at first, he’s going to think it’s odd that you’re not talking to him. By this time, he doesn’t have a solid acquaintance relationship with you, but your expressiveness and excitability remind him of a small child. Riddle’s irritability increases when he asks questions, and you answer with hums and body gestures.

Poise and grace are thrown to the wayside as he demands you speak using words; he thinks you’re being defiant and disrespectful and not talking to him with words. It was right before his Overblot at the Unbirthday Party too. The combination of the Mont Blanc and his perception of you, a magic-less no one dare defy his resolute orders? Deuce tried to come to your rescue, but he didn’t get the chance to adequately explain your responses before they got thrown out of the dorm. Roseheart’s jaw tightened as eyebrows scrunched up, and he cast his Unique Magic on you, Ace, Deuce, and Grim for your transgressions.

◦ After you and co. Dealt with Riddle’s Overblot, and during the revenge Unbirthday Party. Your first-year friends and Trey could now appropriately explain to Riddle that you were nonverbal, but you could express yourself in other ways that aren’t words. His face fell as fast as light as the words finally settled in. The gravity of his actions and how he treated you was… inexcusably cruel. Trey tried to soothe his childhood friend’s piling guilt, but it only made Riddle more remorseful.

Before you and Grim left Heartslaybul, Riddle personally pulled you aside to apologize for his heartless actions; remorse shone brightly in his slate grey eyes, meeting yours for a split second, then falling to the ground. Uncharacteristic nervousness and shame overcame the second year. Perhaps it was still because Riddle was recouping from his Overblot, but the amount of guilt engulfed his whole body. He didn’t even realize he held his breath, and his body tensed until you hesitantly tapped his pristine Dorm Uniform. That was the start of something unprecedented—a road to your friendship and eventual romantic relationship.

◦ Depending if you like to use other ways to communicate, like writing, AAC, Sign Language, Riddle will be pretty perceptive and considerate towards you. He knows you’re partial to showing your enthusiasm by your body language and thus has made it his mission to keep an eye on you, not only because he’s your boyfriend but because he knows what it feels like to be brushed over, to have your ideas, desires squashed for the “right way.”

◦ While Riddle is still a short fuse, he’s trying to reel in his strict ways. That doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, though. He’ll reprimand you when both know you’ve crossed the Queen of Heart’s Rules, but he is more gentle in private. He doesn’t want to make you think he’s an unreasonable tyrant like before. He wants to show that he has changed for the better. He’s certainly not perfect, but he’s working to be better. He’s very protective of you and closely monitors how peers act toward you. He knows that others may pick on you for being non-verbal, even more so because you’re dating a dorm leader. Riddle is quick on the offensive and coldly gives them a tongue lashing but not before he uses his UM. This isn’t always the case, though. He doesn’t want to baby you, Riddle respects you too much, and besides, ADeuce is you’re honorary guard dog.

◦ Throughout the entirety of your romantic relationship, you can tell he’s more perceptive of your emotions and expressive self. By the two inches if your shoulders sag, Riddle’s questioning if you are tired, by the way, your eyebrow twitches he’ll gently place his hand nearest you to calm you down, or the way his cheeks dust pink when he sees you express your love for him as the redhead shyly reciprocates.

◦ He’s way more perceptive than Riddle is, which means he understands what exactly is going on with you and your lack of speech. By the mere time you stepped on his tail, your hands shot up to your face, frantically trying to say you were sorry.

However, he doesn’t care. Why should he? One less nuisance to tune out or tattle on his plans. Whenever you interact with him, he’s condescending towards you, and Leona doesn’t pull any punches either. He still threatened to knock your lights out before Ruggie came to interrupt your comeuppance. Whatever, the beastman has more important things to plan and check in on than some nonverbal herbivore. Leona might not say anything but the air surrounding himself whenever he is around you wafts superiority and boredom, but he doesn’t pick on you. He leaves you to your devices. He’s not low or stupid to waste his energy on someone like you but instead ignores your existence.

◦ So, in reality. Your relationship is purely peer-like. The dorm leader thought you were a nosy little herbivore, while you thought Leona was an entitled overgrown house cat. During his rebellion in October, you’d roll your eyes, and a corner of your lip rose, injuring other students for the sake of a game. It seemed stupid and childish to harm your mind. But you kept hot on his heels alongside Adeuce and Grim. Only during the aftermath of his Overblot do you begin to be sympathetic and cordial to the prideful lion. You treated him with respect, and he gradually warmed up to you. I mean, you dealt with his Overblot and his schemes head-on. That warrants enough consideration from him so that he’ll pull back on the patronizing vibes.

◦ Leona, like Riddle, will think you’re like a small child or like the pain in his neck nephew; Cheka with how excitable and expressive you are, but, because he’s out of his obsession with winning the Magishift Tournament, he’s more tolerant of you. Kingscholar acts sort of like a cat. Now that you think about it, he had time to get used to you, leave when he got bored, and whether he liked it or not, got used to your excitable presence. When Leona wanders upon some students running their mouths, saying some choice words about you and your gaggle of friends. He was fine, chill even. Your gang of friends is nosy and annoying, but when the conversation spiraled into making fun of you and how you’re nonverbal, that’s what made him pounce in a figurative sense.

“Stop your bitchin’. It’s getting annoying. More so than seeing those freshmen run around chasing that grey fur ball and, geez, picking on someone at the bottom of the food chain? How pathetic are you both? Now, scatter before I lose my temper.” Vibrant green eyes glaring daggers into their faces as his lion tail flicks, the students meekly apologized and left, securing their tails between their legs.

◦ Because of his heightened feline senses, his Lion ears will twitch and perk in your direction if and when you use other ways to communicate, if you use AAC, or a pen and paper, while his ears aren’t as well tuned to an actual cat’s senses, they can pick up noises somewhat close by and your devices aren’t necessarily quiet either. So he finds himself propped on his side, listening to your day as you track him down. Most days, Leona would ignore you, letting things go from one ear out the other, at least in your view. He never responded, but whenever Ruggie appeared, he’d snicker as you displayed your concern with knitted brows and a deepest frown. The hyena would roll his eyes and pat your shoulder, stating despite how his aloof Dorm Leader acts most of the time, Leona does have some semblance of care, even if he refuses to show it conventionally.

◦ Unlike how fast and open Riddle sort of was with the prospect of dating you, Leona and yourself had a long time of being “not quite friends but not lovers.” Still, everyone at NRC knew you meant something to Leona, and while you were more enthusiastic about your affections, he never shooed you away. While he did think your excitable nature is tiring, Leona sticks with you, and you’ve adjusted to tone things down just by a little. Maybe someday soon, Leona would allow himself to find happiness with you by his side. But till he realizes that you’re sticking with him, you’ll be there for him.

◦ To be quite frank, Kalim is the most receptive, understanding, and darling toward you right off the bat. He desperately wants you to feel included and seen as yourself. But sometimes, his help feels patronizing, and he’s too oblivious to sometimes pick up on the subtle hints you’re giving. There were times, especially before Jamil’s overblot, where his help, while good-natured, felt overwhelming and pushy. He treats you like you're an incapable child that gets on your nerves, but you’re the one that has to take the wind out of his sails gently. Jamil tried to reprimand his Dorm Leader, but you shook your head with a serious expression looking at Jamil’s irritated face. Kalim’s sweet nature makes it hard for you to put him down gently, you don’t need help with every small task, nor do you need to be watched like a hawk by Jamil and Kalim. Jamil is somewhat ok because he seems like the responsible one, but he treats you like you’re an equal, not a toddler.

◦ Kalim immediately apologizes for his actions and sheepishly backs off his odd overbearing nature. Even Jamil remarks that Kalim doesn’t act like this, but the long-haired man soon realizes,

“Aah, I’m so sorry, you see, some of my younger siblings back home have trouble speaking, and when I’d see them, I’d be protective over them.” Kalim scratches the back of his pearl white hair nervously as he internally sweats at his mistake. Under the gaze of his newfound friend and Jamil made Kalim antsy as Viper raised a curious brow.

�� Kalim’s reasonably flexible with the other ways you want to communicate if you use them. If you use devices and bodily gestures, his ruby eyes will grow wide as he watches the machine start to speak what you want to communicate. It’s so intriguing to watch you type on the device, then it talks. He’s very excitable and enthusiastic, so whenever you’re in a room together, it feels like your energies are bouncing off of each other’s presence. Even in simple conversation, Kalim’s face is highly expressive, and it’s not hard for you to piece it together.

He doesn’t think you’re acting like a child because, as he said before, some of his siblings had trouble with speaking, and while they may not be as severe but he understands your situation. Thus making him hyperaware of hearing other students that may have something mean about you. Although he’s not the threat or has that intimidation factor like the other three, he does have Jamil, and he is the dorm leader of Scarabia. But at least in his dorm, people seem to be minding their own business and thinking before they act.

◦ The dorm leader is a unique case, you’d think he’d be open to having a romantic relationship with you, but first, you had to deepen your platonic friendship, which was surprisingly hard. The pearl-haired man acts like everyone’s his friend, but there’s still a distance between himself and others around him if you look hard enough. He’s cheerful and happy-go-lucky, but it seems he didn’t have a deep friendship with anyone other than Jamil. Perhaps it’s because from what you’ve heard, Kalim stuck to the pessimistic man like glue in their young life. He has well-hidden walls, and as Jamil’s schemes come to light, Kalim rises from the ashes and remains the same sweet man.

◦ It took him a while to discern if what he felt for you was platonic or romantic because he loves everyone. It was pretty hard for him and you because you loved him. You heard that he loved you, but initially not romantically. Even then, Jamil had to pull you aside after his overblot and sit you down. Explaining and illuminating everything you might be putting yourself through, Kalim Al-Asim is the son of an influential, wealthy family. They’ve experienced a surplus of attempts on the heir’s life. So by involving yourself with him, you’re putting a target on your back if you go public. People will try to kidnap you, kill you, and use you to get to Kalim and it would be reasonably easy to have you disappear because you’re not an official citizen in Twisted Wonderland. No one would know who you are, care or even look for you.

This honestly scares the shit out of you daily ever since you started to date, but that only means you have to keep an eye on yourself. Kalim’s very physically affectionate and loves to gift-giving. He has the money and loves to see you smile. You still have to remind him to stop being so pushy with his helpfulness. Despite how kind and sweet he is, Kalim still naive and clumsy, but he’s trying to become wise and clever like Jamil. He doesn’t want you to build up negative emotions towards him when he has the power to nip it in the bud.

◦ Malleus is the most curious about you and your circumstance. But because he’s not used to being in human society nor interacting with mortals, he can be dicey; it’s not out of pure meanness, but he has a different way of showing his amusement. He’s been sparsely meeting you throughout the school year, and every time his curiosity is piqued. You’re a nonverbal child of man that uses your body and other equipment to help you communicate.

Your expressive eyes telling the heir apparent makes the Fae let out an amused chuckle. He’s never interacted with anyone quite like you, and he says it often, but you’re not sure if that’s a compliment or demeaning in some form. Like Kalim, Draconia’s slitted pupils dilate as he regards you cordially. If you use a text-to-speech device, he’ll ask you more questions, gently prodding you for information about his foreign item. He’ll explain that his country doesn’t have the technology or most of his citizens don’t see a need to communicate through them because the Valley of Thorns is bursting with magical energy and his people. But it does seem to be with you to be an educational experience. He is the future king, so he ought to be knowledgeable in all areas of life.

◦ But, Malleus may consider your essential items like human toys on occasion. That’s when you need to step in and tell him they aren’t toys, and the way he treats them, you, to a certain extent, aren’t ok. He regards you as being some play-thing, or a child is demeaning. Which you most definitely are not.

He’ll blink once as a startled expression paints his face. He didn’t know how he acted made him feel bad. He’ll apologize, and while it’s shorter than you’d like, the way his eyes shone with genuine worry and sorrow was telling. Most students at NRC rarely approach him and act as if they were friends without some other motive; he was scared that how he worked, he’d lose that one person that wasn’t afraid of him due to inaptitude of human etiquette.

◦ Thankfully, you stuck with him, and Malleus adjusted his attitude. Sometimes he catches himself with mean quips but doesn’t think you’re off the hook too soon. He’ll prod you about other things, still prideful and arrogant airs around you. Once you get over this misunderstanding, Malleus would like to show how his people communicate differently, mainly using magic or foreign tongues. Still, he does remark only the elder Fae tend to speak those languages. Your eyes brightly gleam with amazement. Your infectious excitement makes the Fae chuckle. Malleus’ demonstrated his magical prowess, colored smoke forms into words and pictures, helping him show you how his people communicate. While not the same as yours, he slowly starts to respect and see things as you see them.

◦ Your relationship with Malleus is a slow burn because he is the future king of his kingdom, and he puts the well-being of his people far above his own. On the other hand, you’re a stranger to this world even more so you understand his responsibility toward his people, and you don’t push your feelings on him, but you do make them known. He’s not dense as Kalim, but he’s not well versed with human courting rituals, but he’s reserved because of how his people may act, and like Asim, your life is threatened. Malleus is quite vigilant towards you, considerate, and like Riddle, protective. He’s a fae to be feared for his social status and magical power, so whoever dares cross you or him. At the same time, he won’t be impulsive. His mere presence is overwhelming in itself—Malleus’ voice booms as the raven-haired narrows his eyes, glaring at the perpetrator.

◦ The dorm leader’s relationship is well hidden, even among his fellow dorm students. Lilia and Silver are the ones that know your relationship, Sebek’s nativity and bias toward humans make him blind to what his lord and the prefect have together. Malleus finds your carefree, enthusiastic personality a well-needed repose. He painfully knows he’s lonely and distant from even his mentor, Lilia. Malleus still feels that way, but perhaps it’s the way you’ve told him that you think lonesome sometimes comforts your boyfriend. He loves to provide for you, you only tell him what you want, and you will receive. He wants to make you happy and to stay with him, so Malleus will do what you want more.

Taglist: @rrasado, @millybesippin, @hey-its-cweepy, @luvielle, @citirusu, @angry-strawberry-pie

#twst x reader #kalim x reader #malleus x reader #leona x reader #riddle x reader #sherbet writes #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #kalim al asim #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland #sherbet’s headcanons #twst kalim #twst malleus #twst leona #twst riddle #disney twisted wonderland

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theladyofdeath · 3 years

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Life As We Know It {Chapter 12}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby's blogs! >> @snelbz

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

* In case you missed the announcement - we will now be posting chapters 3 days a week! Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. We hope you continue to enjoy the story!

** Trigger warning: Miscarriage.

This chapter is legit a roller coaster, ngl. Enjoy. ;)

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Nesta stood in the living room of Elain’s house with Nyx on her hip, feeling guilty for dropping Nyx off for the night even though Elain was the one to offer.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Gives these little cousins some bonding time.” She reached out and took Nyx’s chubby little hand. “Besides, you and Cassian both need time to recoup.”

She wasn’t about to deny that. It had been a week since her not-date with Balthazar, a week since she and Cassian had uttered more than passing comments on how Nyx had acted throughout the day to each other.

Every time she looked at him, she found him already watching her and the fact got under her skin.

It became an unspoken thing that whenever she cooked dinner, she would make an extra helping and put it in the fridge for him. Not because she felt like she needed to, but because it made her feel better about their awkward arrangement. The longer time went on, the more she realized that as much as she’d been acting like taking care of Nyx together was a death sentence to her social life, he was going through the same thing.

And when she got home, she planned on making dinner for the two of them to share together. A sort of white flag of truce between them.

It was the least she could do. “Call me the second something happens-.”

“We’ll be fine,” Elain said, taking Nyx from Nesta and kissing her sister’s cheek. “Now, go. Relax. Take a bubble bath with some wine or something. Read one of those filthy books you used to hide in your closet.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed.

Elain’s smile widened.

After a tough goodbye, Nesta was heading toward her car and driving back home, making a quick stop at the grocery store just around the corner.

She quickly got all of her fixins, prepared to make one of her favorites - salmon, rice, and green beans. A glance at the calendar that morning told her he would probably be home around five, which gave her just under two hours to make dinner. Easily doable, she’d made three-course meals in less time, for much harsher customers.

Yet she couldn’t figure out why her stomach was in knots.

When Cassian came home, he opened the front door and froze. The quiet in the house unnerved him. Usually, there was some random white noise to fill the house, whether that was the television or one of Nyx’s inane toys that distracted him so well. But as he walked through the house, the TV wasn’t on and he couldn’t hear much of anything.

Until he heard a throat clear from the kitchen.

Instantly, Cassian was on alert, not liking the sound at all, recognizing who it had belonged to, but silently, he made his way into the kitchen.

Nesta was sitting at the table, a plate of food in front of her, with an identical one at the spot he typically sat in.

“What’s…going on?” He asked, slowly taking another few steps into the kitchen.

Nesta stood and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, before taking it back over to where he hovered between the table and the doorway. She held the cold bottle out to him. “This is a truce.”

“A tru-?” He took it, but shook his head, not quite understanding her. “Where’s Nyx?”

“He is having a sleepover with Seph, Elain and Azriel. Elain wanted us to have a night off,” she said, sitting back down at her seat. “So I made us dinner.”

“You made us dinner?” he repeated, staring at the plates. “For the two of us to have? Together? At the same table?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, unless you don’t want it.”

Cassian cleared his throat as he pulled the chair out across from her and popped open his beer. “I won’t turn down free food. Especially when it’s made by an expert.”

Nesta said nothing more as she cut into her salmon. “An expert?”

“You get paid for cooking,” Cassian said, picking up his fork and collecting a pile of green beans. “That makes you an expert. A professional.”

“This is a lot of compliments,” she said, watching him carefully as he ate.

“Maybe I’m jumping on board with this whole truce thing,” he said, mouth full of food.

Nesta wanted to chastise him about his manners, but bit her tongue. “You weren’t on board with it to begin with?”

He chewed slowly and then set his fork down. “Neither of us have…handled this very well,” he admitted, taking a drink from his beer. “And I’m willing to take a portion of the blame, but not all of it.”

Nesta weighed his words carefully. They were blunt, but not untrue. Sure, he’d acted like an ass many times, but she had only responded in kind. She knew she could be a bitch, and she knew she did it well. Sometimes too well.

“For this to be an official truce,” she began, holding her wine glass in her hand, swirling it once, twice, “there has to be terms we both agree on.” His eyebrows raised, but she pressed on before he could speak. “Mine are that we have to communicate. When you get frustrated or pissed at me, you can’t just bottle everything up until it all explodes. And when I get overwhelmed, I promise not to snap at you or act like such a…”

“A bitch?” He provided, when she stumbled over her words, smiling around the beer bottle pressed to his lips.

She wasn’t able to stop the smile growing on her own face, as she said, “Thank you, asshole. But yes. Those are my terms.”

He took a drink and nodded. “Okay. I think I can handle those.”

“And what are your terms?” She asked, cutting into the flaky fish for another bite.

He was quiet for a moment, debating. Nesta took a sip from her wine glass while she waited, watching as thought after thought passed across his face.

“I want to get to know you,” he said, finally. “I want to know who you are and I want you to know me.”

Nesta cocked her head to the side. It was a simple request, but Nesta wasn’t exactly good at allowing people to get to know rher. “And how do you suppose we do that?”

“A simple conversation will do,” he said, shrugging. “Over salmon and alcohol. Mostly alcohol.” He reached across the small table and picked up her wine bottle, filling up her wine glass to the brim.

“Getting me drunk so that I open up?” Nesta asked, sipping from that wine glass.

Cassian chuckled. “I would never.”

She watched her for a second, before taking another larger drink and setting it down. “Fine. Then it’s a truce.” He smirked, glancing over the table between them and then leaned over to look on the counter. “What?”

“I’m just looking for an official notice.” His smirk grew into an all out grin. “Something to sign. I figured you’d called up Tarquin and had some official documents written up.”

“You think you’re so funny.” She rolled her eyes and he chuckled, reaching an open hand across the table.

“Truce,” he said, taking her hand in his. They shook once, and Cassian was struck by how much smaller her hand was than his, yet by how firm her grip was. It was an impressive, professional handshake.

“So what do you want to know?” She asked, scooping some rice onto her fork and getting a bite of fish to go along with it.

His eyes narrowed as he thought about it and she began to wonder whether they should have laid down some boundaries. But he asked, “You went to the University of Velaris, right? What did you study there?”

Nesta blinked in surprise, not having expected the question. “Business and marketing.”

Chewing slowly, Cassian raised an eyebrow. “Nothing culinary?”

She shook her head. “No, I liked cooking, but I never thought it would become my career. I majored in business and marketing, with a minor in communications.”

“That sounds…” He fought for the words for a second. “Boring.”

Taking a drink of her wine, Nesta chuckled. “Oh, it was,” she admitted. “The longest four years of my life, but I’ve got the pretty, little diploma with my name written on it to show for them.”

“And how did you learn about food? How to cook?”

She shrugged. “I taught myself. I graduated college and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I got a data entry job at a marketing firm and spent my free time in the kitchen, trying and testing and tasting.” She paused, and her eyes fell to her plate. “Before my dad died, he listened to my idea about starting a small restaurant, with a few of my favorite recipes on the menu. He left me the money to do it in his will.”

“And now?” he pressed, although his voice held a certain gentleness. “Are you successful and thriving?”

Nesta snorted. “I make enough to live and pay the few of servers I have. If that’s successful, then I suppose.”

Cassian nodded in appreciation. “I’d say it is. What about the future? Bigger restaurant? Multiple restaurants?”

“Someday,” Nesta said, with a longing in her voice. “And what about you? And your guitars? Surely you don’t want to be a bartender forever.”

Cassian shrugged. “I don’t mind the bartending. Good tips and I meet a lot of interesting people.”

“But?” Nesta asked.

“But,” Cassian repeated, huffing a laugh. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t exactly say that managing a bar is my passion.”

“So, guitars then?” Nesta asked, brow raised. “You’re really talented. Your guitars are beautiful.”

Cassian’s eyes shot to hers, wide as he slowly set down his fork. “Holy shit, did you just compliment me?”

Nesta’s lips pursed as she kicked his shin under the table.

“I’ve always been good with my hands. Not like that,” he said, pointing at her when he saw the smirk growing. “I mean, creating things, playing instruments, even something as mundane as making drinks. If it’s something I can do with my hands, I typically love it and nine times out of ten, I’m good at it.” There was none of the cockiness she’d come to know in his voice. Just pure explanation, and a bit of devotion. “I’ve tried my hand at making furniture and little knickknacks, but there’s nothing that compares to building an instrument from scratch.”

“And you do it all? Yourself?” She asked, taking another bite.

He nodded. “I start with a few rough pieces of wood. Sand it, stain it, and boom, brand new guitar.”

Snorting, she lifted her wine glass to her lips. “I think you may have missed a few steps in there.”

“Well, I didn’t want to bore you,” he chuckled.

“How long have you been playing guitar?” Nesta asked, finishing off the last of her food.

Cassian took a minute to think about it, then shrugged, finishing off his beer. “As long as I can remember. I grew up with my mom in Illyria. They live simply up there. Music is…a way of life. It grew on me quickly. Mom bought me my first guitar that a friend of hers had made before I could even walk.”

Nesta chuckled, quietly. “Just like you did for Nyx.”

Cassian nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. Another drink?” he asked, nodding toward her emptied glass.

“Sure,” she said. “But, wine is gone. I think there’s some tequila in the cabinet.”

Cassian lifted a brow as he rose. “Tequila?”

Nesta grinned as he went to the cabinet. “Make me a drink, bartender?”

Cassian laughed as he grabbed the glass bottle from the cabinet. “I can. What’ll it be? Tequila sunrise? Margarita? Pretty sure we have some lime juice, somewhere.”

“I’m not picky,” Nesta promised.

She heard him laugh. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing that, Archeron.”

“Only where it counts,” she replied, smiling at him. She picked up their empty plates and rinsed them off, loading them into the dishwasher. Turning, she found him setting a shot glass with salt on the rim down on the counter. She chuckled. “That’s not what I asked for.”

“First of all, you technically didn’t ask for anything in particular,” he said, pointing at her as he crossed the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Secondly, this is the most classic drink I can make you with tequila. It’s the oldest recipe in the books.”

She outright laughed. “That’s cause it’s just straight tequila.”

“Exactly,” he grinned and damn it, if her heart didn’t skip a beat. “I lied, no lime juice.”

“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “But if I’m doing sloppy shots, you’re joining me.”

“Oh, I never say no to shots,” he said, grabbing another from the cabinet.

He filled them up, and slid one to Nesta, who took the glass in her hand and held it up.

Cassian clinked his against hers, and they tossed them back.

Nesta’s face didn’t change a bit, and Cassian met her steady eyes. “Impressive.”

“Not my first tequila shot, Nazari,” she said, hopping up to sit on the counter. “What else do you want to ask me?”

He leaned down on the countertop, letting his arms lay flat. “Hmm.” He let his fingers drum quietly. “What did you want to be when you grew up? Or was it always a chef?”

She scrunched up her nose. “I was convinced I was going to be a doctor, I wanted to help people. But then I found out how many years of school was required to be a doctor. So I decided I wanted to be a nurse.”

Cassian carefully poured a couple more shots. “And what happened to that dream?”

“I found out that the sight of blood makes me queasy. Sometimes I throw up, sometimes I pass out.”

He laughed. “That seems like enough to throw off a career plan.”

“Yep,” she admitted, picking her wine glass up.

Cassian filled up the shot glasses, once more, and slid hers back to her. She set down her wine glass and snorted as she tossed it back.

“You know what we should do?” Nesta asked, and Cassian lifted a brow in question. “Go for a swim. We’ve been here over a month and have yet to use the pool that I’ve been cleaning, daily.”

Cassian took his shot before watching her, closely. “Last one in has to share their deepest, darkest secret.”

Nesta scoffed. “What are we, children?”

Cassian grinned as he pushed himself back from the counter. “Scared of a little competition? Afraid to lose?”

They stared at each other in silence for a minute before Nesta jumped off the counter, and ran up the stairs to throw on her swimsuit.

Cassian and his heavy footsteps were close behind.

It took her a few minutes to remember where her swimsuits had been packed, and from the slamming of drawers down the hall, it seemed Cassian was in a similar predicament. She finally found a two piece stuffed in the back of her underwear drawer, not exactly what she had been looking for, and hesitated before stripping down and pulling the bottoms on. Nesta was out her bedroom door before she even had the top fully tied, pulling it into a hastily tied bow behind her back. Her feet carried her as she flew down the stairs, but she froze when she opened the sliding glass door and found him already in the water.

He grinned from where he had his muscular arms resting on the side of the pool, and his hair was soaked, pushed back off of his face. With the wide smile on his face, he looked so much younger, almost boyish.

With a sigh, Nesta turned and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing a couple beers in each hand and made her way back onto the lit up patio.

“I win,” he said, smirking up at her.

The tongue she stuck out at him wasn’t her most quick witted response, but she was trying not to let her eyes drift beneath the water. When she suggested the pool, she hadn’t been thinking of how much skin would be on display, for either of them.

“That’s because you only had one piece to put on,” Nesta said, sitting near him by the edge and handing him a drink.

“Hey, if you only wanted to put on one of those pieces, I wouldn’t have stopped you,” he protested, and Nesta had to hide the way his suggestive tone, those words, made her blush.

He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he popped open his beer and took a long, slow drink.

“So how about that secret?” He asked, voice lowering.

“Hmmm,” she crooned, tapping her chin. “Which to share when I have so many to choose from?”

Cassian chuckled. “You would have an endless string of secrets. Come on, what skeletons are in your closet? Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

Nesta had a lot of those, too. She wasn’t exactly the “open” type.

There was one true secret she kept though. One that no one else had known, not even Feyre or Elain. Just her and…

She hesitated and he looked up at her, caught the look on her face. “What?”

Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t want to kill the mood.”

The hand holding the bottle was right next to her thigh, and he let his pinky skim over her skin. “That kind of secret, huh?”

She gnawed into her lip, nodding.

“I’ll tell you mine, if it helps,” Cassian said, looking up into her face.

She slipped into the pool, thankful the water was warm, and shook her head. “That wasn’t our agreement.”

He stayed quiet, letting her process her own thoughts.

Sinking beneath the water, Nesta re-emerged, slicking her hair back. After a steadying breath, she said, “I’m sure you remember Tomas, my ex who interrupted our date?”

The mention of their date surprised Cassian, after so many weeks of them dancing around it. He nodded.

“We were together for a long time, you know? All through college.” She wasn’t looking at him, wouldn’t meet his eye. “I got pregnant just after our senior year. I had never wanted kids, you know? Wasn't the family type, at all. Never saw myself having a family. Anyway,” she continued, shaking her head. “It didn’t matter. I miscarried.”

Cassian continued to look at her, continued to watch as she stared blankly ahead.

“I got excited about it, too, which is ridiculous,” she went on. “For a moment, for those few weeks that I thought Tomas and I would be starting a family… I actually got excited.”

“How far along were you?” He asked, gently.

She answered immediately, with no hesitation. “Thirteen weeks. It was like one day I was pregnant, carrying our child and the next… The baby was gone.” She was quiet for a moment. “I woke up one morning and there was blood, so much blood. Tom was already at work, so I drove myself to the hospital, but there was nothing they could do.”

Cassian recognized the slow blinking, knew she was reliving those slow, sad moments again.

“I was dying inside, trying to come to terms with the fact that our baby was gone, and Tomas got home and-.” She took a deep breath and looked over at him. “He asked what I was making for dinner. He didn’t even acknowledge that our child was gone and… l guess that’s when I decided to do the same. To pretend nothing happened. We didn’t really talk much about it. We never told our families, I never told Feyre or Elain. Our father died about a month later and it all seemed so insignificant at that point. But Tom and I never recovered, our relationship at least. We broke up a few months later and…” Nesta shrugged. “Life kept going. I decided to open my restaurant and never looked back.”

“I’m sorry,” Cassian said, quietly.

She finally looked at him and shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it any less painful of a memory,” he countered.

She just nodded. “It’s how it was supposed to be though, right? Wasn't meant to be.”

Cassian took another drink as he nodded, slowly.

“Anyway,” she began, clearing her throat before dunking herself back down under the water.

“Would you like my secret?” He asked, when she turned and rested her arms on the edge of the pool.

She shrugged. “If you feel so inclined. You didn’t lose the bet.”

He leaned back, letting his arms drape across the edge of the pool as well. “When I was eighteen, I broke my back. I decided to take a year off before I started school, and was working construction over the summer to save money. I wanted to travel for a while. But then I took a bad fall off a roof. I spent two weeks in the hospital and then was stuck in my bed for another ten. And Rhys and Az stayed by my side the whole time. They put off their last hoorah vacations before they went off to college to stay with me.”

Nesta’s eyes drifted to Cassian, drops falling from her lashes. “Doesn’t seem like a secret if people know about it.”

“You didn’t know,” he shot back.

Nesta smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Fair. That sounds awful.”

“It was,” he agreed. “I don’t know if you know this about me, but I don’t like to stay still for very long.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Nesta said, a little spark returning to her eye. “It was torture,” he followed, finishing off his drink. “Not being able to move. I played so many damn board games that I never want to look at one ever again.”

“Even if Nyx asks?” Nesta inquired.

Cassian gave her a lopsided grin. “Well, he’s the exception.” Nesta laughed, and Cassian shook his head. “I’d do anything for that kid. I think Rhys knew that, when he named me godfather.”

She understood that, related to it completely. Especially considering they had been named godparents together, regardless of their mutual distaste for the other. Their love for Nyx, for Rhys and Feyre, had been evident to everyone.

“I miss him,” she admitted, resting her cheek on the concrete. “I know it’s only one night, and I’m beyond appreciative, but… It’s weird not having him right inside.”

He nodded. “I get it. I do, too. I know Az and Elain can take care of him, and I’m sure he had a blast with Seph before they went to bed, but it hasn’t stopped me worrying about him.”

Nesta nodded, stretching her back. She took a drink from her beer. “Did you ever want kids of your own?”

He blew out a harsh breath and drained his own bottle before answering. “I never really considered it much, when I was younger. After my back healed, I was so focused on getting back to life that relationships and dating weren’t high on my priority list-.”

“But fucking was?” Nesta asked, smirking.

He rolled his eyes, nudging her slightly with a shoulder. “Maybe I was interested in sex more than relationships, I’ll admit. But before I knew it, my early twenties had come and gone. Everyone I knew was getting married and had babies on the way and… I was still the one living the bachelor life and decided to just run with it.”

“I get that,” Nesta agreed. “After…everything that happened with Tomas, I never wanted that again. My date with you and my date with Balthazar are the only two proper dates I’ve been on since college.”

Cassian lifted a brow. “And have you been on any improper dates?”

Nesta didn’t answer. Instead, her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink as she finished off her beer.

Cassian’s grin widened. “I never knew you were such a freak, Archeron.”

“Oh, fuck off,” she muttered, which just made him laugh harder.

“I must admit, it’s nice to hear you talking about our infamous date so often tonight,” Cassian said, pulling himself out of the pool.

Nesta couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles flexed, how the drops of water streamed down his back, between his shoulders, down to his waistline and the swim trunks, which rode low on his hips. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t say anything nice about that date, did I?”

“Absolutely not, but is there really anything nice to say?” he asked, sliding the screen door open. “I mean, you were an absolute nightmare.”

She gawked after him as he went inside, and once he came back with a small pyramid of beer cans, Nesta said, “I was a nightmare? You were a complete disaster!”

He scoffed, setting the cans down and cannon balling back into the pool. Even though she was already in the water, Nesta couldn’t help the squeal that left her. Cassian was grinning when he came up for air. “I forgot my wallet. I fully intended to pay you back, both monetarily and with the best sex you’d ever had in your life, but you decided to get huffy, stomp back to your front door and slam it in my face.”

“Oh, please,” Nesta said, reaching for a can and popping it’s top. Foam erupted from the opening and she put her mouth to it before it could drip into the pool. “You were over twenty minutes late, you wore work boots and a leather jacket to the nicest restaurant in Velaris, and we ran into your fuck buddy.” She drank deeply from the can, emptying it in one go. “As for the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, I’ve become very accustomed to and am just fine with my own hand, so you’re going to have to try pretty hard to do better than I myself can.”

She wiggled her fingers in his face and before she could register what was happening, his hand was wrapped around her own. As if he didn’t already know that. Cassian had caught her getting herself off in the bathtub, a memory that was seared into both of their heads. He tugged her closer and the empty can fell from her hands, floating on top of the water.

“I was talking about the past, sweetheart, but you seem to be talking about the present,” he breathed as her chest brushed against his own. “Who says my offer still stands all these years later?”

“You’d be a fool not to make that offer,” she breathed, and she knew the scent of beer was all he was breathing in.

“And would you accept it if I were?” he asked, one hand still wrapped around hers, the other snaking its way around her waist. “Still offering?”

Nesta’s breath hitched as their mouths grew so close, too close, close enough to reach out and taste his lips with a brush of her tongue.

It was tempting.

It would be stupid. Alcohol fogging her brain or not, Nesta knew it would be stupid.

But it was tempting, and in that moment, there were very few things Nesta could think about other than his hands against her skin, his lips a breadth width away from her own, and his cock she could very prominently feel twitching against her thigh.

Nesta’s lips brushed softly against his as she said, “Try and find out.”

#nessian #snacmc #snacmc lawki #modern au #lawki #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #acotar #acosf

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prof-peach · 4 years

Note

Hello professor, I have a pretty heavy question I’m afraid, but I’m running out of people to ask, so I’ll try my best to keep it PG13.

It’s my Mienshao, Daisy. Up until recently, she and I were members of a police task force tasked with rooting out illegal Pokemon smuggling rings and underground high stakes tournaments. We’ve been partners for a long time, me and Daisy, we grew up together, and I dare say we made a great team. But then things went wrong.

For the sake of security I can’t go into too much detail, but we were participating in a raid when we got ambushed. Someone must have tipped the smugglers off, because they were waiting for us when we got there. During the firefight, there was an explosion, a gas tank got set on fire by a charizard, I believe, and Daisy and I happened to be close. She got out with a few minor burns and scrapes, I... Did not.

I’ll spare you the gory details, but I have been confined to a wheel chair ever since, and I am due to be fitted for a prosthetic leg next week.

I won’t lie, the transition has been hard for everybody, me, my friends, my family. My other Pokémon have been hovering around me like over protective nannies for weeks. But I think out of all of us, Daisy has been taking it the hardest. Half of the day she spends locked to my side like a bodyguard, threatening to punch anyone that gets too close into oblivion. And the other half, well...

She’s started putting herself through some kind of hellish self training routine. Doing katas until she all but collapses from exhaustion, running laps for hours, fighting every Pokemon she can convince to fight, wild or trained. Daisy’s always been tough, and she’s always loved training, but this... This isn’t training, it’s a death march. I’m getting extremely worried, and that’s not even everything!

She’s stopped eating her favorite foods, deliberately choosing ones I know she hates, she won’t let me pet her anymore, she just steps out of reach, trying not to look at me. But most worryingly, she’s started cutting off her whiskers. She’s always been so proud of her whiskers, she groomed them every day, always got grumpy when I teased her for having a big ol’ mustache. Now anytime they get longer than an inch, she slices them off with her claws and throws them in fireplace, like some kind ceromony.

I’m almost certain Daisy feels guilty for coming out mostly unscathed, when I didn’t. She’s always been a bit protective, even before we joined the police, and she’s saved my life multiple times out in the field, but now she feels like she’s failed me, I think. I’ve tried to convince her that it wasn’t her fault, but that only seems to redouble her efforts. I’m terrified she’s going to burn herself out if she keeps going like this, and I don’t know what to do.

I know this is a pretty heavy question, but I I’m not sure who else to ask. Is there anything I can do to convince her that she doesn’t need to hurt herself like this? Or, something? Just anything to help! Losing my leg was jarring, but losing Daisy would be unbearable!... I just... I just want my best friend to be okay.

I am sorry for what you’ve been through, I cannot begin to understand what it’s like to be in your shoes, but like all recovery, physical or mental, this will take a fair bit of time to get past, you both may never fully return to how things were, but it can get better and you can both return to a full life together with work and dedication.

I’ve certainly seen Pokemon go to extreme lengths after dangerous incidents to protect their loved ones or themselves, in this case it would be wise to assume your pokemons suffering with a hefty bill of PTSD, and needs some actual therapy to handle the feelings and thoughts they’re having. We have facilities to accommodate that if you’re local to Johto, but most Pokemon centres will be able to put you in contact with reliable and certified practices to begin unravelling the issues that now plague Daisy.

That she considers herself to have come away reasonably unscathed is not true, yes your life has physically changed, but she needs to step back and take a look at her life too. Everything’s different now, and more specifically how she’s treating herself and handling her feelings. If that’s not trauma and injury, I don’t know what else it could be. You both came away with damage that day, physical or not. The first step is to help her see that, and to begin to understand that despite this all, you can both continue to move forward together if you can overcome the injury together, it is an event you shared, and you two can aid each others recovery with time and care.

There’s some seriously gifted therapists out there, those who study for years and can help far more than me, they’ll take time to break down the events, and start to really get into the feelings that your partner is going through. The cycle for Daisy right now comes around to self-punishment, and seems to be stuck on a loop. She needs time and space to process her feelings of guilt, grief, fear and loss, facing them instead of burying herself in her rigorous training. While it is difficult to discuss, you two have a strong bond that means you could talk with her. Try to remind her who’s truly responsible, she may be blaming herself, which is pretty common in these situations, but at the root of it, you were doing your routine job, and the bad guys, the Pokemon smugglers and goons are to blame. THEY caused the issue, not her, and while it may not sink in right away it’s worth saying, and sticking to. You said you told her that it wasn’t her fault, which is the gut reaction, perhaps giving her a logical target instead of herself will work better for now. Reiterating the true issue, and taking the heat off of her may help with other tasks such as self care, later down the recovery road.

Her guilt will feel terrible, but it kind of works as a protector, keeping her distanced from the worse, more overwhelming feelings of helplessness and powerlessness. In fact the guilt that masks this all will slowly make things worse over time. That underlying intense emotion below the guilt is what you both need to work through, but more than anything, she needs to face it, in her own time, come to terms with it, and eventually (hopefully) come to an understanding that life is an endless cycle of events, things will happen, but you have to pick yourself up and turn the lemons into lemonade. She could have lost you that day, that you came away with your life is a miracle, and now you two get more time together because of that. Luck isn’t something that runs out, it’s not like there’s only so much of it to go around, it is like wining the lottery. Sometimes 20 people win, other times no one does. It’s hard to accept, but there’s no greater order to stuff that happens, but when we can come to this conclusion, it’s oddly freeing. I’ve seen a fair few Pokemon in a symilar state who can move on when they realise there’s an odd randomness to the world and everything that goes on.

This is a job for someone with far greater skills than I, but you must help her by also looking after yourself, laugh when you can, show her that your life is still very full, and that you have loved ones, and joy to share with others. You mentioned that you’re due a prosthetic, and though the transition will be long and no doubt a little difficult at first, getting yourself back on two feet (kind of) will show her, and your other Pokemon that you’re willing to move forward. I think there’s a lot to be said about talking during this all. She wants to fight, to be strong, if this is how she’s going to cope, fine. If she’s out training, sit with her, spend whatever time you can by her side, as she’s taking this the hardest. You don’t have to say a thing, just try to do your best, without putting yourself in too much discomfort or pain. Reminding her who would be devastated if it had been her who got hurt, if she was not around, may help ground her back in reality a bit. You both got granted a gift that day, you came away alive, if she works so hard she burns out, that gift was wasted. She can use her kindness, and strength to help you, she can pass her knowledge and skill forward, but it’s hard to help others, and do your best if you’re exhausted beyond reason. Kind of like trying to give people bread from a basket but the damn basket is empty yknow? You got to take time to refill so you can help those around you again, so you have some bread to give. I know, probably sounds a little dumb but it’s always been the way I remember it.

Another very useful thing I’ve found with trauma survivors would be meeting others who have been in the same position. There’s plenty of support groups for both people and Pokemon who have been through events that left them in a difficult situation, emotionally and physically. Even here at the lab we have many species who have been left without limbs, with life changing damage, and a lot of them also have the emotional trauma too. She would probably do well to spend time with them, you can send her to a resort to retreat and recoup erase, mix with others who were just as angry as she is now, or you can take time to go with her to groups to interact with others. It’s one thing to have humans help, but it’s a whole other level of connection when Pokemon can help their own. They bond quicker, trust faster, and generally are more open to listening when it’s coming from a place of mutual experience. If she had time to talk to pokemon who actually lost their trainers, or parts of themselves, she may find some peace, even if only temporarily.

Don’t mention the whiskers, and where possible don’t offer her foods she actively likes, but also not ones she actively dislikes. Just for now. Start the ball rolling with just plain simple things that are neither good or bad. Indifferent is better than bad right now, the punishment she’s inflicting on herself will need addressing further, so contact a therapist, they use Rotom or porygon to translate from poke-speech to human language, and the repair can begin with a registered professional. My advice is not sound proof, I certainly feel like I have missed something important, it’s a big response, but it’s a start in the right direction, and should you come up to any further issues, message back and update us with what’s going on. With work you two will be on track to recover. Remember, patience is the biggest thing here, you two have history, and a therapist will no doubt take the sessions as a pair, and work with you to help Daisy feel less guilty over time. I hope you both find peace, and that both of you repair in due time. Good luck with the new leg, a step towards recovery for sure.

#pokemon #prof.peach #peach talks #take this one with a pinch of salt #I’m no therapist #but I certainly hope you both find some peace

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the-fourth-knower · 3 years

Text

Diary of a lost doe, part 1

A short fic where my character Annabelle writes in diaries

Fresh off losing her parents, Annabelle Flaches must contend with trying to fend for herself and her baby sister Angelica. And with Angelica talking to a mysterious green orb when she thinks Annabelle isn’t watching, things are only at the tip of the iceberg.

This is for me and Aquillis’s “half and half” AU, our ‘main’ AU. not to be confused with Aqui’s pack universe which is her underground re-write.

Due to the length I'm splitting this into two parts. This is part 1, part 2 is here!

Diary Enry 1, Day I dunno.

Okay here it is. First diary entry I guess. Gotta keep it brief, writing instruements are hard.

Been a few months since that day. We’re doing fine. Angie started another garden. Moved to a new spot.

Got some new things for the house. Old car door and a tire. Not sure what I’ll do with the tire gonna use the door as part of wall.

Finished roof this morning. Good thing 2, might rain.

Angie still sleps bad if not next to me. Writing while she’s curled up. Wasn’t for scars on ear and having to sleep in same clothes she’d look like we’re still home.

Gotta sleep now.

Diary Entry 2

Maybe got a job. Illegal probs but $ is $

Angelica talked more today. Good sign? Maybe she relapses back into not talking but progress.

I never thought i’d miss her annoying stupid “hey lets go explore a cave and not tell anyone bout what we’ll do” self. Never thought about losing mum and pa ei

Shit crying. Bye.

Diary entry 3

Diary didn’t get too wet yesterday.Don’t think bout mom and pa it ends badly.

I can’t afford to break down even if Angie’s sleeping

If I break down then Angie will get upset

I won’t put her through it

I won’t

…

Diary entry 54

Had to leave town but am 600 $ richer

Angie’s quiet again. But she didn’t complain bout us leavin

gonna go for a city maybe. more risk but more money and places to live.

Jadetown’s the city. Dunno too much bout it but mum liked it.

Should get there in maybe a cuple weeks or so

Angie’s sound asleep. No kicking or anything so that’s good

Hope the city’s okay. Angie hates crowds.

Need somewhere with not a lot of crowds to live at

…

Diary Entry 63

Been a hot second. Settling in Jadetown’s pretty hard.

Find a quiet spot in the slums. Pretty shitty now, but the two of us can make it work

Angie still isn’t talking, but she kept close to me while we made our way through the crowds. She seemed fine as long as she held my hand

Lost her a couple times, but not for long. She seemed upset bout it.

Sorry Angie.

I’ll do better. I promise.

...

Diary Entry 169 (it’s the morning but fuck it)

The nightmare happened again.

Angelica having her ear scared by those monsters. mum and pa being taken away in exchange for us being set loose

Only it loops around and around before it’s just cries and blood and knives and screams and crying and they’re all surrounding me judging me for just failing everyone because you’re a fucking failure

Haven’t had it a while. Don’t upset yourself, Angie needs you.

Diary entry 169? Night

Angelica almost killed some street thugs.

we caught some dumbass looking punks bullying some sort of chao. I think it’s a chao

I ran up to one like an idiot and gout in their face to know what they’re doin, and the things went dark. I got knocked out on my ass, apparenlty the big brute that led them butted me in the head. Asshole didn’t even let me get ready

I came to to Angie trying to shake me awake. When I looked around the punks were gone, there were plant vines all over, and the other kids that had gathered were a mix of crapped their pants and mouths on the floor

I asked angie bout it and she just said she took care of them and that the punks had run off

What the hell did she do? Usually I’m the one saving her? But she was having none of it today.

Oh the chao’s fine, weirdass chao though. Never seen chao that just cause flowers to grow around them or in their footsteps.

Made 30 $

Rib’s hurting and headache, Angie fast asleep. Time for bed.

Diary Entry 170

Chao’s bak.

Visited Angie’s garden for a while watchin me watchin it. It waved and left right around Angie gettin up.

Showed up again when we got back home. Angie hasn’t seen it yet. Good thing, she wanted to bring it with us. We can’t afford three mouths.

I don’t like it. We save its ass and now its stalking us.

Made nothin.

Ribs hurt less. Still a bitch.

Diary entry 171

Angie’s found the “chao”

She talked to it all morning when she thought i was napping. Couldn’t sleep, too afraid of bad dreams.

It doesn’t make chao sounds. Or it does but really weird ones.

Then it turned a green light ball for a bit and back into a chao

Angie liked that.

I don’t trust it. Even less.

Need to watch it.

Angie’s relaxed.

Made 5$.

Diary Entry 172 morn

Nightmare again

Diary Entry 172 night

Angie got excited, claimed that she “found Trevor”

he lived near us back in our old home

Had to tell her no, every red mouse we see is not Trevor.

She says that Trevor and his family were gonna move here, pretty inistent too.

Man she gets caught up on the smallest things

Made 20$

Diary Entry 173

Chao returned while i was working. Left Angie on her own

Shes seemed like she was having a fun time being able to talk with someone

She’s not made friends much. Maybe i’m being too hard on the ‘chao’

Still gotta watch it. It could be manipulating her

Haven’t told her I know bout the chao yet.

Should i?

Not now. Angelica is sleeping.

Made 5$

Diary Entry 174

‘Trevor’ spotting 2. Angie wanted to go bug the person. So we went and sure enough as we got closer Angie changed her mind. It was a rat, not a mouse she said.

How can she tell the difference?

No Angie and chao visit. Unless it was while i slept in. but why would she be secretive bout it?

Saw the punk bitch again today. Looked like he crapped his pants when he saw Angie and she glared at him. That’s my sister.

Made 60$

…

Diary Entry 364

Got a new diary. Last entry for this one. Things going well. Got a good thing going for myself.

Angie found a new plant today, and now she’s got it in her garden.

Loved the look on her face when I got it for her.

Made 50$

Angelica’s chatted with the Chao again. Sort of like, is her guardian I think. Or is that its name

Guess good bye diary 1. Really weird to do but it feels right.

Angie’s sleeping well enough on her own. She mumbles but that seems it.

Do I do a good job keeping her safe

Diary 2 Entry 1

Managed to find a new diary. Keeping the old one just cause, and because I have the storage. For a couple of street bum does, we’ve got a decent enough house going. Been able to put it together from bits and bobs lying around, Angie even threw in her hat and added her own touches.

Looks ugly as hell with the plants holding things together and it’s all a mish mash of junk and crap I found, but it’s our mishmash of junk and crap.

Also saved up enough and am making enough to afford more than one pen and even some pencils. So I can write more often. Just felt like writing

Angie’s started to get more vocal again. I think she’s catching onto the fact the way I’ve been making money is less than honest a lot of the time.

I’m not going to sell myself for it though. I’m not degrading myself with that and nayone who fucking tries is going to a hospital.

And if any of those freaks dare go near Angie there won’t be enough left for a morgue to pick up.

Oh, and the chao’s still around. I can feel it. Angelica loves it, I think. I don’t trust it entirely, yet. But, it hasn't been a danger for the past months. So I think it’s actually a good thing.. Angie calls it Guardian. Maybe it's our own Guardian Angel.

Made 65$ today.

Good journal entry me. You got talkative. Writative? Whatever.

...

Diary 2 Entry 23

Got into a fight today, that was fun. The punks from when I helped save Guardian decided to jump me when Angelica was at the house. Guess they figured they could jump me without little sis to back me up. Too bad for them, when I don’t get suckered I’m damn good at defending myself. Sent them packing. Got a bit bruised. Why is it always the ribs with those guys.

Admittedly. I didn’t have to beat the crap out of them. But talk shit get hit, I say. They shouldn’t have been trash talking me when I was walking by.

Angelica was upset when I got back. Should’ve expected that, really. Don’t know why I didn’t think she would notice me being hurt, she’s got a sixth sense for that sort of thing. Always has. Kinda weird.

But, she did try and heal me a bit. Somehow, she’s gotten better at it -Ever since she's met Guardian, she’s gotten more control over that healing ability she has. I just need to make sure she doesn’t overdo herself again.

I don’t know anything much bout healing magic or whatever it is, but I don’t think what Angie has is normal. I think she uses herself for it. Whatever healing she tries to do just eats away at her. And whatever it was was enough to frighten Pa to move us in the first place

I think part of me might blame ANgie for it. For getting us out of the safety of where we lived near Agateton and moving.

But if we didn’t move would we really have been safe still. And it wasn’t Angie’s fault she did what she did, it was Pa who pushed for it and Mum who went with it.

So do I blame them? I don’t want to. The monsters that took them and hurt Angie are the ones to blame.

But they wouldn’t have found us if we didn’t move near that forest. But Mum and Pa couldn’t have seen it coming.

Ugh. brain hurts. Fuck this mind screw bullshite

Spent 123.54$ today. Groceries and supplies. Tampons are stupid expensive but I want to have a decent supply for when we need them. Also some food.

Made 13$. Gonna need to work more to recoup.

No idea if Angie talked with Guardian. She still thinks I don’t know anythin bout it.

At least, I think she doesn’t. She gets defensive and acts like she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

I wonder why she does that. Wonder if it’s tied with how I react to her saying she’s found Trevor for the umpteenth time.

Maybe I should press her bout it. But I don’t want to get her worked up over nothin.

Okay that’s enough, my mind’s getting wandering now and I stay up if I do that.

...

Diary 2 Entry 54

Someone showed up with a bunch of robots earlier. Cause quite the commotion, sent people running, the usual.

Apparently he set up shop in the rich quarter and is causing all sorts of troubles. People have been coming to and fro a lot the past few days.

Angie got worried over explosions. Had to calm her down, explain that whatever it was probably wasn’t coming here. She asked me bout the people there and if they needed help - told her that someone would take care of the rich fops. That’s what they do after all. Who gives a shit about two practically orphaned kids.

Not sure if she bought it. Gotta keep an eye on her. Might need to pull an all nighter.

And we don’t have any energy drinks or coffee. I could go grab one, no one is gonna give a shit if I do, not in this current environment.

Gotta stop for now. Gotta focus on Angie not some stupid book.

Entry 55

Angie’s missin

#Knower writes #Sonic #Sonic Fic #Sonic the Hedgehog #Annabelle Flaches #Angelica Flaches #didn't realize it'd be so long #guess that's what happens if I just let myself write something #but I had fun writing this #hope everyone enjoys this first part

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fandom-blackhole · 3 years

Text

Mando May 2021 Week 1 + Day 5

AN: This is the first of the Mando May prompts I will be writing for! I hope you all like this, and know that it was only minimally edited by my very tired brain and eyes, so if you see a mistake please let me know so I can fix it. Please like and REBLOG so that others can see this, and lastly I love you all :)

Prompts:

Week 1: Ke'jorhaa'i Mando'a - "Speak Mando'a"

Part of the Resol'nare (tenants defining a Mandalorian) instructs that mandalorians are to be taught or raised to speak Mando'a.

Cyare'se- loved ones

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Words: 1.8k

Summary: Reader walks into the cockpit to find Din teaching Grogu a language they don't recognize, but rings a bell somewhere in their mind.

Warnings?: absolutely none, just straight fluff and family cuteness! Established relationship and no use of y/n,

It had been a slow day in hyperspace. You had spent the majority of your waking hours cleaning up miscellaneous and strange stains in the belly of the Razor Crest that if you had to guess were a mixture of mainly blood or blaster residue, and fixing what wiring you could in hyperspace and what you could reach in the small spaces they were contained in, and with every stretch of your arms, you cursed Din for having such an awkward ship. You had not seen nor really heard from Din or Grogu since you had woken up and checked on them both in the cockpit making sure they had already eaten something and that they both had had something to drink and before you had left the cockpit you had made sure to lean down and give Din a quick kiss on the dome of his helmet and told him you would be doing some chores down in the hold of the ship if he needed you and with his answering nod and forehead bump you could tell that he was smiling softly, and his softly voiced affirmation reply only seemed to confirm that thought.

By this point, it had been more than a few hours at least and your arms were more than tired and sore from all the scrubbing and digging around you had been doing, so you decided that a short break to relax and recoup would be good for you. So you went and grabbed a couple of ration bars and a thing of water before heading to the cockpit, wanting to sit with your boys and figuring they might also appreciate a little snack or drink, and you just wanted to see what they had been up to while you had been busy down here.

Climbing the latter you finally heard Din’s soft voice saying something to whom you could only assume to his son, but it was so soft that you could not make out what it was he was saying. You just smiled, thinking about how happy you were that Din finally was opening up to both you and Grogu and allowing himself to speak more compared to how closed off and quiet he had been before. You knew that Din had been through so much and that he had to work through everything at his own pace, and you by no means were rushing him to show more of himself, but you remember there being days when you would just ramble and talk nonsense in hopes that he would even just speak up to tell you to stop talking, though he never did and you eventually started to think that he might actually like hearing your rambling. So now, hearing his voice so freely, yet still reserved, made you so extremely happy, and still managed to surprise you every so often, especially when he initiated conversations on his own.

It wasn’t until you pulled yourself up to sit on the edge of the latter opening in front of the doorway to the cockpit that you realized that even if you could make out what Din had been saying, you wouldn’t have had understood a second of it. The sight you were greeted with was Din, in his chair, turned to look at the secured cradle where Grogu sat eagerly soaking up his father’s attention and looking at Din with such love and adoration on his tiny face that it made your heart hurt from how much love you felt in that exact moment. You sat there and watched the two interact for a few minutes, just observing this pure father-son interaction. You listened as Din sounded out a word, again in a language that you did not quite recognize, but somehow felt familiar. You watched Din’s helmet as he nodded his head at the end of each syllable of the word, or words you weren’t quite sure if you were honest, and the whole time you searched through your memories and knowledge trying to place where the word or language came from and why it was ringing bells inside of your head. Then you were completely shocked out of your observation and attempts at recollecting by a small and higher-pitched voice, much louder than Din’s, responding in a very decent attempt at whatever Din was trying to teach, especially considering that the reply came from that small egg-shaped cradle and this was the first time you had heard Grogu try and mimic or communicate with anything past baby like chitters or babbles. And when Din praised Grogu you had to hold a hand over your chest, because your heart absolutely melted at how proud Din had sounded and how much more little Grogu’s face lit up with his ears perking up stiffly beside his tiny face showing his absolute joy.

It was then that you decided to make yourself known, and you softly spoke up saying, “That was so good Grogu! How come you never told me you two were doing language lessons….. And that language sounds so familiar but I don’t recognize it, what is it,” you ask as you slowly raise from the floor and walk over to the two boys. Din looked over at you as you approached them and as he replied you kissed the top of Grogu’s head and ran your fingers softly over his ears the way he likes.

“He is picking it up much better than I thought he would and at a fast rate. I started teaching him words here and there these last couple of months, it has only taken him a few days to learn and speak the words clearly….”

Picking up the little gremlin when he noticed and tried to steal one of the ration bars, you sat in the only open seat left in the cockpit and open the food for him and handed it to him, before looking at Din with still smiling and asked again, “And the language?”

You could feel his eyes study you for a second before he tilted his head and replied, “Mando’a, it is the language of the Mandalorian people. It is something I was taught as I was being raised by the Mandalorians, and it is very important to Mandalorian culture that all Mandalorian children are taught the language.”

Your smile broadened as he told you this. Din has never quite come out and said it explicitly that he saw Grogu has his own child, as his son. But what he just told you, and by his secret actions these last few months more than proved the bond and connection he had formed with the cute little child sitting on your lap at that moment just absolutely gnawing and destroying the hard ration bar you had handed him. The practical admittance warmed your chest and caused tears to well up in your eyes, though they did not fall. Then you replied with a whisper saying, “Wow, that is very beautiful and a great way for a child to bond with their parent or parents,” it was then that you kind of trailed off feeling nervous at the thought that popped into your head, so you looked away from the visor of the helmet watching you intently, “And, um, this only applies to the children?”

You could feel the confusion flowing off of Din after you asked this question, it was quite obvious that he was trying to figure out how to respond or even what you yourself were thinking. The two of you sat in silence for a long while, and it wasn’t until after Grogu had finished one ration bar and you had him drink some water before handing him a second that you finally heard Din’s deep voice speak up, and you would rather not admit it, but you did jump slightly when he spoke up because after such a long pause you had begun to think that he was not going to answer the question nor continue this conversation.

“Do... Cyare, do you want to learn Mando’a,” and as he asked this question you could hear an almost breathless shock to his voice that made you look up at him and see that he was almost completely leaning out of his chair in an attempt to be closer to you. Shyly you bit your lip and nod before speaking up, “I just thought that it would be nice to have something all three of us could do you know? And I have been wanting to learn more about your culture because I know it means so much to you…..”

Again a silence engulfs the three of you, and the tension was almost palpable, though Grogu acted absolutely indifferent to the thickness in the air. As the tension kept building more and more, you got more and more anxious. Eventually, it got to be too much for you to handle and you decided to speak up and take the words back, scared you had made Din uncomfortable, but Din beat you to it, “If you would like, we can start with the word I was teaching Grogu when you came up here?”

The smile that grew on your face from the excitement hurt your cheeks because they had never stretched as wide as they did at that moment. You nodded eagerly, crossing your arms more tightly around the small child you still held in your lap. Din nodded and spoke up after a moment, “The word we were working on is cyare’se, this is the word we use to say loved ones.”

You nodded and took a second before trying to say it yourself, and when you did you knew right away you absolutely butchered the word, and it just did not come out as smoothly as it did when Din had said it. You could feel the heat rising in your face from embarrassment, but then Din nodded and said, “Not bad for you’re first attempt, try again. Cyare’se, shar - AY - say.”

This time after he said the word again, he broke down the pronunciation much like he had been doing for Grogu, and if you were honest with yourself it did make it much easier to understand all the components of the word, so this time when you tried to say it, you started off saying it slowly as Din had done, before putting it all together and saying the word near perfectly. And much like he had also done for Grogu, Din praised you saying, “Absolutely perfect, cyare. I could have not said it better myself.”

Grinning widely again, you giggle and said, “That’s where I recognized the word from! That name you are always calling me, it sounds like the beginning of cyare’se. What does that one mean,” you asked earnestly and Din chuckled slightly in response before looking to the side himself, from what you could only assume to be shiness.

“Well, cyare is much like a pet name in Basic. It, uh, means loved or beloved.”

(If you would like to be tagged in the remaining Mando May prompts let me know! Not all will revolve around Din and Grogu though! Thank you for reading and all likes and REBLOGS are appreciated!)

#mandomay2021 #week 1 prompt #day 5 promt #din djarin x reader #din x reader #din djarin x gn!reader #din x gn!reader #grogu #razor crest

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thefallennightmare · 4 years

Text

Vas Prizrak-Eighteen

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 2000

Warnings: swearing, some smut if I’m feeling frisky, tiny bits of fluff, and a whole lot of angst.

Summary: Bucky and Reader’s life in Wakanda had been everything they ever wanted. But when they are told about the fight that was on it’s way to them, they fear that life would be dusted away for good.

A/N: There are only two chapters left after this one! The final one and then an epilogue. I’m so sad that it’s ending!

TAGS: @mggpleasedontlookhere @grey-force-jedi @austynparksandpizza @lovelyladymayyy

“Call me if you need anything, okay?”

The redhead nodded, giving me a small smile. “I will.”

“Don’t be a stranger, Wanda.”

The funeral had ending awhile ago, most of us staying behind to chat and catch up. I wasn’t sure if I’d see any of these people again so I made sure to give them all proper goodbyes.

We gave each other another hug before parting ways and I headed towards Bucky who was looking out at the waters of the lake behind the Stark home.

My arm wrapped around his side and he snaked his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in. A soft kiss to the top of my head brought a smile to my lips.

“You alright?” I asked.

During the funeral, I could feel Bucky filled with so much regret; regret for not only what happened to Tony but for what The Winter Soldier did to his parents.

“I never got to apologize to him, really, for what I did to his parents,” Bucky’s voice sounded broken so I gave him a loving squeeze.

“It wasn't you, Buck.”

He sighed, finally looking into my eyes. “Where’s the other two trouble makers?”

I giggled at his nickname for Sam and Steve.

“They’re with Bruce checking out the new quantum tunnel. I guess Tony had been working on another, better model.” I said.

Bucky hummed while he led me towards the three men, who were in a heated discussion, but seized when Bucky and I walked up.

“What's going on?” I asked with a raised brow.

Sam ran a hand over his tired face, letting out a deep sigh. We were all exhausted still, not having much time to recoup after yesterday's fight. Right after Tony’s funeral, we all decided that now would be the best time to return the stones.

“Steve wants to return the stones himself which I think is crazy if you ask me,” Sam said.

My eyes landed on Steve, who was already dressed in his suit, briefcase full of stones in one hand and Mjolnir in the other.

“Can we talk alone for a minute?” I questioned.

He nodded and we walked towards a bench that faced the lake, both sitting in silence. Steve didn’t have to say anything, however, because I already knew what he was thinking.

“You’re not coming back?” I finally tore my gaze away from the water and looked into his eyes.

Steve hesitated, trying to think of the right words to say.

“What do I have left here, Y/N?”

I scoffed, immediately feeling hurt by his choice.

“What about me? Bucky and Sam?” I asked, pointing to them behind us.

No matter how far away we sat from them, I knew Bucky could hear our conversation.

He ran a hand over his face but remained silent. No matter how much I begged or pleaded to have him come back to us, his mind had been made up. Steve was going back to not only return the stones but to live a life with Peggy.

The anger had intensified, knowing he was giving all of us up for her.

“I can’t believe it,” I stood while shaking my head. “You’re leaving all of us behind for her?”

Steve shrugged. “I love her, Y/N.”

“And I love you, Steve. Just because I chose Bucky doesn’t mean you have to forget about me.”

He stood with a start and lifted my chin with his finger, forcing me to look into his eyes. “I will never forget you, Y/N. You will always be a huge part of my life, I can’t forget someone I love.”

“Then why can’t you stay?” I wondered with a quiet sob. “Please stay.”

Steve’s lips ghosted a kiss over my forehead. “I have to do this, Y/N.”

In the end, I knew that Steve was right. There had to have been a small part of me that understood where he was coming from, right?

Everything I had done lately for my love of Bucky was no different than Steve staying in the past so he could live a life with Peggy. We all deserved a happy ending after defeating Thanos, Steve included.

I pulled my jacket closer to my chest and reluctantly nodded. Our arms wrapped around each other in a final hug and I left a soft, lingering, kiss on his cheek.

“We love you, Steve. I understand why you want to do this but can’t stay here and watch you. If you change your mind, you know where I’ll be,” I said, gently cupping his cheek once more.

Tears welled in his eyes but Steve quickly blinked them away.

No others words came through my lips, unsure of what to say exactly, so walked ahead of him while he followed behind. He wanted to say goodbye to Bucky, one final time.

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back,” Steve joked.

Bucky chuckled. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

The hug between them was quick, Bucky not wanting to linger any longer around him. Even though it was Steve’s decision in the end, Bucky couldn’t agree with it. After everything they had gone through together, Steve was giving it all away for Peggy.

I could almost see the jealousy and anger oozing out of Bucky.

“Take care of her,” Steve nodded towards me.

I laced my fingers with Bucky and gave Steve one final smile. “Safe travels, Stevie. I love you.”

Bucky and I turned to walk away as tears fell from my eyes. I had lost another person I loved and cared about however the one who meant the most was still here, lightly swaying our hands together as we walked alongside the lake, far from Steve.

“You know,” Bucky spoke after some time of quiet, “I think we should get a place on the lake. It’s quite peaceful.”

“Remember my family’s cabin we stayed in after the fight in D.C?” I asked, the memory pushing its way forward.

It was the first time I had shared time and made memories with Bucky, not Soldat.

Bucky smirked and nodded. “That seems like a lifetime ago.”

“We’ve been through a lot together,” I stated.

We came to a stop and Bucky pulled me into his chest, vibranium fingers brushing the hair out of my face. He lowered his lips, giving me a tender kiss.

“I love you, Y/N,” Bucky gushed.

Leaning up on my toes, I gave him another quick kiss. “I love you too, Bucky.”

We started walking again but suddenly, I remembered the surprise that I had yet to show him.

“I have something to show you, only if you’re up for it.” I said.

Bucky wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close again. “I’m always up for anything if you’re involved, doll.”

“No fucking way,” Bucky gasped.

“I know it looks a lot worse since the last time you saw it but I have so many ideas on how we can fix it all,” I babbled on while pointing to different things around us, stating how we could change things.

“If you think about it,” I continued to ramble, “All it really needs is new flooring throughout and a good paint job. And the kitchen could use an update. Oh, the bathrooms need to be completely gutted.”

“Doll,” Bucky reached for my hands causing me to come to a complete stop.

He wore the pridest, widest, smile I had ever seen on his gorgeous face. It was the type of smile that made the corners of your eyes crinkle.

“You bought my childhood home?” He asked.

I nodded but grew anxious the longer he stared into my eyes. “Should I not have? Was that too weird?”

Bucky hushed my ramblings with a kiss.

“I fucking love you, doll. I can’t believe you did that,” Bucky mused against my lips.

Our fingers laced together and I pulled him along, filling him in on how we could fix things and update the home to its former glory.

The dining room had a huge window that when the sun would set int he evenings, it would cast the home in an orange hue.

We could tear down the wall between the kitchen and living room, giving the home a large open concept.

There were three bathrooms total, all of which needed to be completely gutted.

Out of the five bedrooms, I guided Bucky towards my favorite one. His old bedroom.

“I know your room was the smallest but what if we tear down that wall,” I pointed to the one opposite of us, “And connect the two rooms. I really love how large the windows are in here. We could put in a set of French doors that lead out onto a deck.”

“That all sounds amazing, Y/N.”

Bucky had not stopped smiling since we stepped foot through the threshold. He knew immediately where we were the second I had turned on the street.

“The agent told me that there’s a small lake behind all of those trees. I tried to get in contact with the man that owns that land to see if he was willing to see but I guess he disappeared with the snap,” I stated while we turned to look out the large window in the room.

A small chuckle erupted from Bucky’s throat, earning a confused look on my end.

“What?” I questioned.

“Names James Buchanan Barnes. I heard you were interested in buying my land,” Bucky extended his hand towards me, wanting me to shake it.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Confusion was an understatement on how I felt at the moment.

“Before I went to war, back in the 40’s, my parents surprised me with that piece of land. They wanted me to have something that I would be able to make a home on and raise my family close to them,” Bucky shared.

My lips parted slightly at his words. Between the both of us, we had now owned just over two acres of land?

“I can’t believe it,” I laughed, shocked.

Bucky wrapped his arms around me from behind, placing a kiss on the top of my head.

“Thank you for this, doll. I can’t wait until we fix this up and start raising our family here,” he mused, thinking of his exciting future ahead.

I turned into his arms, snaking my arms around his neck. “You want to have a family with me?”

Bucky’s eyes shone with so much love and purpose. I could feel the pride emanating from his soul.

“Y/N, I want to live with you for the rest of my life, even when we’re ghosts. I don’t want to experience this life with anyone else,” Bucky sealed the admission with a kiss.

Suddenly I had remembered that there was one more final thing I had to tell him. I knew that with this news he wouldn’t be so happy. As I opened my lips to speak, Bucky had beat me to it, rambling on about ways we could fix up the rest of the house and the backyard.

He spoke with so much purpose for the future, our future, and it brought tears to my eyes knowing that after the hell of a life he had, he was excited for something. Bucky had a future to look forward too that didn’t involve death or heartbreak. It involved us and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Sam. He was all we had left and I refused to leave him behind, even if Bucky tried to kill him.

With a silent nod, I had decided to keep that final secret of losing our child in the snap to myself.

“Buck,” my voice came out husky and raw. “Why don’t we head back to the hotel to celebrate?”

Seeing how excited he was for our future brought immediate warmth to my core and the itch to feel him between my legs again.

Without a second thought, Bucky’s pupils turned dark with lust as he lifted me onto his shoulder and ran out of our home. We didn’t want to waste any more time.

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes and reader #james buchanan barnes and reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier and reader #marvel #avengers #captain america x reader #steve rogers #dorogaya #soldat

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winter-fox-queen · 3 years

Text

Kisses Like Wine 6

Summary: The Thief gets into trouble, the reader makes a plan.

Warnings: A little violence, some introspection.

We are drawing close to the end. :D

I’m tired of you. You’re no better than my family.

He used the USB stick with its code to get into the vault. Liberated the stone. Got out of there. If he was not, indeed, the world’s greatest thief, he would have failed utterly, because his focus was destroyed.

Your words kept echoing in his ears. He’d had a lot of terrible things happen to him. He’d been poisoned once and laid at death’s door for three days, just on the edge of death, the pain like the unrelenting fires of hell but he couldn’t let himself fall into a coma.

It didn’t hurt nearly as bad as what you said. She’s just frustrated, he soothed himself. It was a very frustrating night and you were not at your best.

He wanted to do something. He imagined doing something. Scenario after scenario, and they all ended the same, you saying that you understood what he’d been trying to do. That you forgave him.

Maybe. Maybe. That you loved him.

That thought set him back. Love was never part of the plan. His plan was to show you a way out of your cage, but not replace it with another one. You had to take your freedom, you had to build your own life.

He kept telling himself that he never wanted that life to be with him.

You were right. He was a liar. Something had changed. Maybe it changed the night of the ball.

All this made him careless. For the first time in his life, the first time in his long and very successful career…he was being tracked.

He got on a plane, headed to the final diamond, a five star hotel overlooking the Rhine. Half hoping you would be there, doubting you would be.

He never made it out of the airport.

***

The last thing I was interested in was the Heart of the Rhine. But here I was, working as a maid, looking for a way in.

Unlike the Compass, The Heart was usually in a vault, hidden behind a wine cellar.

“Are you any closer to getting the Star?” My brother asked me when he called to check in.

“Do you know the Heart of the Rhine is worth twice what the Star is? Twice.”

Silence. Then, “Really?”

“And it is incredibly lovely. I figure…get the Heart, then I can either just bring it home for the family, or trade it for the Star. Get papa to let you know his preference, will you?”

“We’ve spent so much money getting you this far, we probably should go for the better stone…recoup our losses.” He *almost* jokes.

“Did you email me what you found out?”

“Yep. And overnighting your shopping list. This is…this is it, right? You’ll be done after this?”

“Miss me?”

Another silence. “It’s not the same around here, no. But…I don’t know how much more dad will let you do.”

“I know I’m not his only plan.”

“No. The other plan is not…I’d avoid our boy, if I were you.”

I felt chills…”What are they going to do?”

He hung up.

I stared at the phone, cursed, then slipped it back in my apron. The day before I thought I’d seen Lars, a huge piece of work that our head of security sometimes brought in. I new he was on retainer, and usually worked for us a few times a year.

I changed, took off my wig, and went looking for him, scratching my scalp.

He was not hard to find. I had to troll him in a bit, walking all over the place, but I knew once he got sight of me, he’d zero in.

“Hey, Lars!” I handed him one of two cups of coffee I’d gotten.

He nodded at me.

“So, any luck finding the Thief? Dad told me to connect up with you, compare notes.”

“I’m done with that…someone else has him, and by the time they’re done, there won’t be anything left to bother with.”

I tried to make the spike of panicked fear I felt act like rage. “Are you fucking kidding me? They kill him, and we won’t get our property back!”

He shrugged. “Your father’s not that worried. He must think you’ve already got it in the bag.” He took a sip of his coffee. I wish I’d poisoned it. “ But, you should know that.”

I channeled every privileged woman I’d ever met, straightened my spline, looked down at him, and said, “Do you like working for my family.”

He started to look uncomfortable. “Yeah. But that’s your father’s call.”

“True. And I think his call will be a definite no when I show him the pictures I took of you screwing my sister on his desk. You should work for the porn industry…”

“You’re bluffing.” He growled.

“Am I?” I took a step towards him, as if I wasn’t scared. “You will take me to where they are keeping him. If you have people you can hire to get here fast, do it. We will go in and retrieve the thief and you…you get to keep your job.”

“He’ll fire me if I get you killed.”

I stepped back, sighed. “Lars. Do you really think he’ll care? He just wants the diamond. In a year, maybe two, our head of security will retire. Don’t you want a nice, cozy position that pays well and has lots of benefits?”

He licked his lip. “I might be able to get a guy. Maybe two.”

The Thief was cursing himself. He started with French, then in celebration of where he was imprisoned, German. Spanish, his mother tongue. Arabic was next, and maybe, after that, Russian…

All the while, he was thinking. He didn’t have long…the taste of blood in his mouth and the pain in his ribs told him they’d roughed him up while he was out, but not much. He was duct taped, but they had not searched his person, so did not know about the very sharp blade he kept in his shirt cuff, and he was working, working.

Whatever drug they’d used (Was this karma?) had faded, leaving him clear minded.

Were you safe? You had to be safe. Please God, keep you safe.

Maybe this was you. Maybe the torture had not begun in earnest because they were waiting for you. And you wouldn’t really hurt him. No matter how much he deserved it. He’d beg for your forgiveness then say, punish me, punish me so you know I am telling the truth, not lying to avoid the pain.

He heard voices. They were speaking Gaelic of all things. Had he’d displeased anyone from that part of the world? He didn’t think so, but anything was possible.

He heard someone at the door, so he held his hands together carefully (he was almost free) and let his head hang down.

Someone came close, smacked him gently. “You must be awake by now…open your eyes. It’s time to talk…”

He raised his head. “And what would you like to say? What’s the weather like outside…it was supposed to be nice, but with a bit of a chill.”

“You have amassed a rather…stunning collection of wealth. The gentleman I work for thinks it is time you share. So, you tell us where you keep your valuables, and perhaps we will let you live.”

Their eyes met, and the Thief said, “A wise man would not let me live…”

They could both hear gun shots, on the other side of the door. “Hold that’s thought,” he said almost amiably as he went outside.

The Thief got up, threw the duct tape on the chair, and caught the door before it could close. At the doorway, he could swear he heard you yell out to someone…not angry, mad. In charge. He smiled and drew his pack of cards out, selected one and threw it on the chair.

He slipped out. The place was a large warehouse…a good place to take someone, you could do what you wanted and no one would hear, throw the body in a box and ship it. He was tempted, to go and find you, but…the card would be enough. The game was afoot.

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persephonesfill · 4 years

Text

choke on me—chapter five

breathe me in (prequel fic)

chapter four

chapter six

a/n: i’m not going to say much, aside for a little warning that there is some violence and gore (nothing crazy) in this chapter. i’m super excited for this one and i hope you guys enjoy it! also, this chapter has my first battle scene so bear with me folks

rating: explicit

warning(s): this chapter contains violence, smut, and a little bit of gore

—————

Whatever peace they have following the carnival quickly dies when HYDRA rears its ugly head. Again. Tony hates how devoted they are to living up to their namesake. He had hoped that they would take their time to regroup after the fall of SHIELD, but apparently, four months was more than enough time. HYDRA's power ran that strong.

Tony watches Steve throughout the briefing. He's been watching Steve a lot more lately. Ever since that ride on the Ferris wheel, he's been trying to be more open, more inviting, Steve taking to his attentions like a starving man to freshwater. Steve's all business right now. His jaw clenched, he's scrolling through the digital files JARVIS compiled for them on a tablet with a single-minded focus. His free hand rests on his knee curled into a fist. Tony can practically see the rage in him rising like a tidal wave. He can't imagine how Steve feels, to devote himself to something, to die for it, only for his sacrifice to be for naught.

"God, these guys are like roaches," Clint says, cutting through the silence, tossing his tablet down on the table. "They could survive a nuclear winter."

"So what's the plan here, Cap?" Natasha says, leaning forward in her chair. "You've got the most experience with HYDRA out of any of us."

Steve sets his tablet down. "What we're going to do," he says, his voice colder than Tony's ever heard it, "is go for the head."

"We strike fast, and we strike hard, leave them absolutely no time to recoup. HYDRA, no doubt, has a number of facilities at their disposal. We find them, and we burn them to the ground. Any operatives who surrender will be turned into the proper authorities. We don't want another Zola."

"JARVIS, can you pull up a three-dimensional render of the base?" Tony says.

"Of course, sir," JARVIS says.

A bright blue hologram appeared over the center of their table. Steve stands up and starts to circle it. He could practically see the wheels behind Steve's head turning, formulating a strategy from the bottom up.

"They were smart when they made this base," Steve says. "It's incorporated into the mountain top. They'll be able to see us coming from all sides."

Bruce speaks up. "What if we approach from the west? It looks like there's a pretty dense forest; we could use it for coverage."

"A ground assault would be suicide," Tony says, rising from his seat to take a closer look at the hologram. Steve moves over, making room for Tony to stand beside him. "They could have bunkers, watchguards, tanks, the works. We'd be fish in a barrel."

"An aerial assault then," Thor suggests. "So we won't be caught unaware."

Steve gives the idea some thought, a muscle in his jaw working. "Tony and you could fly ahead and scout for assailants."

"That could work," Tony says. His mind is racing, running through all of the possible outcomes of their fledgling plan. The others could stay behind in the quinjet, and he had recently added retro-reflective paneling to it. "Once we give you the all-clear, we'll be right on top of them and—"

"We'll have the element of surprise on our side," Steve finishes.

"And once we reach the base?" Natasha asks.

"That's the easy part, Nat," Clint says. "We give 'em hell."

*********

They finalize their plans and run them by Fury and what remains of SHIELD. They'll head out tomorrow morning, just before dawn, to catch them off guard. The others have left the war room, either to train or to get some rest. Steve sits at the table alone, the hologram casting his face in blue light.

"Penny for your thoughts," Tony murmurs so as not to startle him.

Steve glances at him and smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"Talk to me, Steve," Tony says. "What's bugging you?"

Steve sighs. "It'd be easier to list what isn't bugging me."

With a sudden surge of daring, Tony steps off from where he'd been leaning against the wall and slides onto Steve's lap. Steve lets him, his hands settling on Tony's hips like they belong there. Tony wraps his arms around his neck and leans in.

"Am I bugging you?" he whispers.

"Never," Steve says fiercely, his grip on Tony's hips tightening.

"That's one," Tony jokes. "Can't think of any others?"

Steve presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Your smile." Another kiss on the tip of his nose this time, making Tony chuckle. "Your laugh."

"Okay, Romeo," Tony says, laughing. "I get it. That's three, I guess."

Steve smiles, a bigger one than the last one. His thumb has slid under Tony's shirt, rubbing circles into his hip. "Thank you," he murmurs. "It's just... I'm worried about the mission."

"And why is that?" Tony asks like an idiot until he remembers that this base is located in the Alps, where so many things went catastrophically wrong for Steve.

Steve's smile falls just as quickly as it came, and Tony kicks himself mentally for being the one to do it. "Whenever HYDRA's involved, things tend to go south pretty quick."

"I gave my life to putting an end to HYDRA, and no matter what I do," Steve whispers, more to himself than to Tony, "they always come back. They always come back and take something from me. I'm fighting a war with no end, Tony."

Tony cups Steve's face in his hands. "But you're still fighting," Tony says softly. "The second you stop, that's when they win. That's when there's no coming back." His thumb brushes over Steve's cheek, wiping away a stray eyelash. Sitting this close, Steve looked so young. Tony forgot that mentally, Steve was only twenty-nine. He carried himself with an age-old grace and had suffered so much…

"And you're not fighting alone. You never did. You had the Commandos," Tony says. He doesn't know where he's going with this, but he'll do anything to take that grimace off of Steve's face.

"No one should be this alone," he thinks.

"You have the Avengers," he continues. "You have me."

"I've got you?" Steve asks. His voice sounds small, unsure.

"You've got me. You'll always have me," Tony confirms.

"I'm holding you to that," Steve says.

"I'm a man of my word," Tony replies.

Steve tilts Tony's head up, and they don't say anything after that. Not for a while.

*********

It's supposed to be a run-of-the-mill ambush, so of course, they're met with the modern-day equivalent of hellfire and brimstone—in HYDRA's case, a volley of gunfire. One second, Tony's flying over a mountain pass, thanking his lucky stars that his flight suit is insulated, the next a bright blue bolt of pure energy strikes him in one of his thrusters, sending him spiraling. Another shot sends Tony plummeting towards the earth in an ironic facsimile of the Battle of New York.

The same terror grips him, that awful feeling of weightlessness and pressure all at once. He barely registers the shouts of the others over the comms before his sense finally kicks in, and he deploys the flaps meant to slow his fall.

The impact still rattles his bones, and for an awful second, Tony swears his brain is shaking around in his skull. Whatever guns HYDRA were using had to be enhanced somehow because there's no way two shots from any old machine gun would take him out so easily.

He's landed in a snowbank, thankfully. Tony always knew that there was a possibility that his suit would be his coffin, but he didn't want to bite the dust just yet.

"Pepper would yell at me," he thinks, still trying to calm his racing mind down. "And Rhodey. And Happy. And Steve. Steve—"

"Iron Man? Iron Man, do you copy?" That's Steve's voice. There's an urgent note to it, almost like he's trying to stop himself from shouting.

Tony blinks once, twice, and tries to answer him. "I'm fine, Cap. Just disoriented."

"What's your location?" Natasha asks curtly, cutting off whatever Steve was going to say. Tony can hear gunfire in the background, and hurried commands barked out in Russian.

"Jarvis?" he asks. Tony used a separate comms unit precisely for moments like these when his suit might be compromised. "You there, buddy?"

"Always, sir."

Relief floods through Tony. He's not totally helpless if Jarvis is still on the line.

"Can you send my location to the others?"

"With pleasure, sir."

"Got it," Natasha says a second later. "I'm sending Thor to you. But first, Hawkeye, let's show these boys a little reciprocity, hm?" Natasha's voice is like ice. Tony almost feels bad for those poor HYDRA agents operating those machine guns. Almost. If only they weren't the scum of the earth.

Tony can't see the quinjet anymore, but he can sure as hell hear it as Natasha unloads a barrage of bullets aimed directly at the turrets surrounding the HYDRA bunker. Never has he ever been more thankful for retro-reflective paneling. There's a pause in the gunfire, presumably from the HYDRA goons taking cover and Natasha ceasing her fire to allow Thor to reach him unharmed.

In the meantime, Tony needs to figure out what he can salvage.

"Is it just me, or do those guns remind anybody else of the Chitauri's weapons?" Clint says over the comms.

Thor lands in the snowbank, sending the snow into a flurry. He stalks towards Tony, his red cape fluttering in the wind. Lightning dances at his fingertips, and paired with the fury painting his face red, Tony would think it was directed at him.

"Iron Man? Are you alright?" Thor asks when he reaches Tony.

"I'm fine, just disoriented," Tony says, which is the truth. The snow broke most of the fall. Aside from a few minor cuts and bruises, he's alright. It's not the worst mission he's been on. Yet.

"Your suit," Thor says. "Can you fly?"

Tony looks down, observing the damage. The gunfire's resumed, Natasha and Clint aiming with deadly accuracy. Good. That makes his job easier. The thrusters in his boots are shot, but his HUD and hand repulsors are still functioning.

"Don't think so," Tony says. "Can I get a lift? I'll tip you."

Thor chuckles, some of the fierceness in his stance deteriorating. "He's alright," Thor says. "He can still joke."

"That's a relief," Clint says, actually sounding relieved. "Who else is gonna call me out on my bullshit?"

With Thor's help, Tony strips out of the armor pieces that are nothing more than dead weight until he's down to his helmet, gauntlets, and chest piece.

"Cease your fire," Thor says, wrapping an arm around Tony's waist. "We're joining the fray." And they're off. Thor's flying is different from Tony's own; Mjolnir functions as a weight, taking them into the mountain top's direction. It's completely flat on top, akin to a plateau. Every twenty feet is a gunman armed with what looks like a modified Chitauri gun. They're firing blindly, still looking out for the quinjet. "We're coming in," Tony says. "And Hawkeye, you're right. This does look like Chitarui weaponry."

"Can you say that again so I can record it?"

"In your dreams," Tony says. Thor lets go of Tony when they're safe to land. Tony rolls into the fall, landing in a crouch. The HYDRA gunman spots them, but before they can pull their handgun sitting at their waist, Tony's already fired two blasts from his repulsor, sending them flying. Thor sends Mjolnir flying through the machine gun, shattering it into hundreds of metal shards sparking and sputtering like the last embers of a fire.

"One machine gun down," Tony reports. He stalks over to the HYDRA agent he shot and takes the handgun for himself. Ignoring the agent's blank, dead stare, he looks over the gun, trying to get a feel for how it functions. It's all sleek curves and silver chrome, a current of cobalt energy coursing through it like blood. He aims the gun and pulls what he hopes is the trigger at the gunner. The HYDRA agent screams as Tony's shot makes its target, charring his skin. "Make that two," Tony says. "The north side of the base is clear."

"I'm dropping Cap off," Natasha says. "The north side is too small to land the jet."

Mere seconds later, Steve's landing near them from seemingly nowhere, looking ready to kill. His eyes looking over Tony, "You okay?" he says, his voice rough.

"I'm alright," Tony says. They can talk later. There's still a mission to finish.

"There's four gunners on the western side," Steve says. "How long do you think until they call for reinforcements?"

The thundering sound of footsteps on concrete answers Steve's question.

"Not long," Tony snarls and rounds the corner with Steve and Thor flanking him. One of the agents who abandoned the machine gun has a regular pistol aimed right at Tony. Steve moves like lightning, lifting his shield in front of Tony. The bullet ricochets and lodges into the agent's skull.

Tony will thank him later, for now, they have to keep on moving. They need to clear space for Natasha to land.

It's like he, Steve, and Thor have a telepathic link with how well they fight together, making quick work of the HYDRA agents and their alien weapons. "It could be a dance," Tony thinks, as they push forward. Thor wields Mjolnir with grace and finesse; it might as well be an extension of his arm. It's the hallmark of a person who's spent half their life spilling blood. Tony's the same when he has a gun in his hands, and this modified Chitauri gun is no different. Aiming and firing with the intent to kill, his weapons are all too happy to listen. And Steve, Steve fights with a dancer's grace, lethal power behind every one of his attacks.

If he were a religious man, he could almost believe that he was meant to do this. That he was destined to fight by their side.

The party truly starts when Natasha lands the quinjet. Bruce emerges, already going green, and it's through him that they're able to bust down the doors and breach the base.

A fierce jolt of pride runs through him at the sight of Natasha and Clint wielding the batons and bow he made for them specifically, and he fights with a renewed sense of purpose. The HYDRA agents storm them all at once, but what's fifty men and women to six pissed off Avengers?

The answer is nothing. The Hulk alone takes out ten agents, tossing them about like a child would a toy. Clint's converted his bow into its bo staff form while they're enclosed, keeping close to Natasha's side.

Only four HYDRA agents remain standing when they finally surrender. The rest lie, unmoving, the smell of blood and sweat and burned skin filling the room like a sickly perfume.��

Steve sends Natasha, Tony, and Thor off with a nod, while he, Clint, and the Hulk stand guard. They have their own missions to fulfill.

Tony and Nat find the base's command center, while Thor keeps going, muttering under his breath.

He retracts his helmet, lets himself breathe. The air is stale and dank, reminding him far too much of Afghanistan for his taste.

"Easy, Tony," Natasha says when she notices him hyperventilating. "We made it. We'll be leaving soon. We just need to find what we came for."

"Right," he says. "Right." He came for SHIELD secrets; cover stories, mission files, safe houses, that sort of thing. It takes JARVIS no time at all to hack into HYDRA's system.

As he's finishing up, he overhears Natasha say, "Oh, my God."

Instantly he's on guard. "What's wrong?"

As soon as he speaks, Thor comes back into the command center, his face grave. "There's something you should see."

"But," Natasha begins.

"I believe it might be related to what you found. Follow me."

Tony doesn't know what he's expecting as Thor takes them down a series of hallways, the light growing dimmer and dimmer the further they go. He's not expecting a girl. At least he thinks it's a girl. It's hard to tell when their skin has been completely stripped off their body.

*********

Tony can't say he's paying attention during the debriefing. It's hard to when every time he closes his eyes, all he sees is pink exposed flesh. Thor had been looking for Loki's staff. They had let it stay in SHIELD's custody in 2012 and two years later were kicking themselves for it. He said that he tried to follow its magical signature, and it had led him to...that girl. Or what was left of her.

When the debriefing is adjourned, he comes away with three things. First, someone ratted them out. Second, if someone ratted them out, then SHIELD was still compromised. Third, HYDRA was conducting human experimentation.

It wasn't surprising, given their history. During the war, they had taken prisoners of war and conducted all kinds of horrific experiments on them. As far as he knew, only one made it out alive, if you could even call it living. James "Bucky" Barnes had survived HYDRA's experiments only to be subjected to a worse kind of torture.

Seventy years and HYDRA was still the scum of the earth.

By the time Tony gets an all-clear from the medics, all he wants is to take a nice scalding shower, and he does just that.

When he emerges from the bathroom, Tony can't say he's surprised when he finds Steve, still suited up, sitting on the couch with his helmet in his hands.

Tony makes himself known, knocking on the wall.

Steve's eyes flit up to meet his, and Tony's surprised to see that they're red.

"Tony," Steve breathes his name like a prayer, and it's like someone's punched Tony directly in his chest. Every time Steve says his name like that, it always leads to something electrifying. Tony's eager to see him, eager to wipe the blood and the bodies of the day's events from his mind.

He walks further into his living room, and Steve rises to meet him until they're standing chest to chest. Tony has to look up at Steve, but Steve's never held it over him like others. It should scare him, how small Steve makes him feel. But Tony doesn't feel helpless.

If anything, he has the power to bring Steve to his knees.

Steve's hands are on Tony's waist, and he's shot back to the first time they stood like this, close enough to catch each other's breath. That first time had been an exploration—an adventure in learning each other's bodies.

Steve kisses him, hot and desperate, tugging at Tony's clothes.

This time it's a reassurance.

A fevered kiss—You're okay. Every fleeting touch a "stay with me."

Tony kisses him back.

"We're okay," he whispers into Steve's mouth.

"I saw you fall," Steve's voice cracks. "I saw you fall, and I couldn't do a damn thing to stop it."

Tony cups Steve's face in his hand. Steve closes his eyes, leaning into Tony's touch. When he opens them, his eyelashes are clumped with tears.

"I'm alive," he says. "I'm alive, and I'm here with you. That's all that matters. You and me."

Steve shudders. "God, Tony, I need—I need—"

"I know," Tony says, and the next few moments are naught but a blur. They kiss again and make their way to Tony's bedroom, occasionally stopping to feel each other up or get rid of a piece of clothing. When they finally make it to Tony's bedroom, they're both down to their boxers.

Idly, Tony realizes this is the first time they've messed around in an actual bedroom, especially his bedroom.

Except when Steve breaks their kiss to lift him up by his thighs and walk them over to his massive bed...when he lays Tony down gently like he's something precious...it doesn't feel like messing around anymore. Messing around put him in the mind of two teenagers fumbling around the backseat of a car, desperate to get themselves off and themselves only.

Don't get him wrong, the desperation was there as Tony wraps his legs around Steve's trim waist, but there wasn't a selfish bite to it.

Steve Rogers is desperate for love. His entire body thrums with it, in the way he slips his tongue into Tony's mouth and grips one of Tony's hips in a harsh grip, hard enough to bruise. It's fine, though. Steve will kiss every one of his bruises later as penance.

Maybe Tony shouldn't engage in such strenuous activity after another death experience, but he got the all-clear from SHIELD's medics themselves. If he sustains a concussion, that's on them.

Tony's already hard and straining against the confines of his boxers. He can feel Steve, hard and leaking pre-come through the thin fabric of his boxers.

They could come together, just like this, hell they have come together like this, but today is different. Today, Tony almost died again, and today Steve fought like a demon sent from hell for him and—

"Oh."

Tony loves him.

He's in love with him.

It's no great shock to him, not really. There's no fireworks, no lightning strikes, just a subtle shift in his paradigm, like someone zooming out on a camera.

Steve pulls back from their kiss to look at him, and Tony's gone. From Tony's penthouse suite, he has the perfect view of the sun in the evening. It's midday, and the sun, not quite setting, casts shafts of light into his room, catching the blond of Steve's mussed hair until it shines like hammered gold.

Steve has lifted the veil off of his face, and Tony can see the reverence in his gaze untempered. Tony's stomach clenches. He feels like an animal, like some feral beast has taken up residence in his skin, wanting to claim and be claimed.

"This is how Steve feels. This is how he's felt from the beginning."

He's not an artist, not like Steve, but he understands the appeal of wanting to capture a moment forever in all of its rawness. He wants to get some paints and canvas and immortalize Steve precisely as he is right now: wild and devout. To him.

Steve's thumb traces the outline of Tony's mouth and pushes at Tony's bottom lip. Steve gasps when Tony parts his lips and takes Steve's thumb into his mouth. He recovers quickly, pressing his thumb deeper into Tony's mouth. The salt of Steve's flesh coats his tongue, but for once, Tony feels like the hunter.

Steve's thumb becomes his pointer and middle fingers. Tony sucks them, lathing at them with his tongue until they're slick and glistening when Steve withdraws them from his mouth.

Tony blindly grasps for the drawer of his nightstand, rooting around until he finds what he's looking for: a bottle of lube.

He passes it to Steve, who flicks open the cap with his thumb.

"Ah," he breathes as the lube hits his skin, all cool and wet.

Steve's fingers, slick with Tony's saliva and lube, ghost around his perineum. He's thankful he had the good sense to shower beforehand, although he couldn't have foreseen this happening. Steve always caught him by surprise.

Steve starts Tony out slow, with only one thick finger working its way inside of him. The stretch, while familiar, takes some getting used to. It'd been so long since he'd truly been with another man.

A second finger joins the first, stretching Tony to the point of discomfort. In the back of his mind, Tony had always known that Steve's hands were big, but having them stretch him out was an entirely different matter.

Despite his initial discomfort, his cock is still hard, dribbling pre-come onto his stomach.

"Breathe for me, baby," Steve says, and it hits Tony then. This is the first time they've had sex. All of their other moments had been fleeting, full of fevered grinding and hot mouths and rough hands when they had time to spare.

Tony's naked in front of Steve, and he's in love with him, and he doesn't know what's worse.

"Hey," Steve says softly like he's comforting a spooked horse. "Breathe."

Tony closes his eyes and does as he's told. Some of the tension leaves his body as Steve's voice washes over him.

"You have no idea, don't you? How gorgeous you are?"

"Tell me," Tony finds himself saying. Steve's working his fingers in and out of Tony now, searching, searching…

It's getting harder to think straight.

"I'd burn for you," Steve says. "I want you so much, I'm fucking dizzy with it." Steve twists his fingers, and Tony sees starlight behind his eyes.

Steve's fingers are relentless against his prostate, scissoring and splitting him wide open.

"Do that again," Tony somehow manages to gasp out. "Fuck, Steve, please."

Steve, bastard that he is, withdraws his fingers from Tony's entrance, and if Tony whines, that's between him and God.

"I think I like you like this," Steve says instead, pressing his fingers into the meat of Tony's thighs. A shiver runs down Tony's spine at the hungry look in Steve's eyes.

"A wolf closing in for the kill."

"Like what?" Tony finds himself saying.

Steve tilts his head and runs a hand up Tony's thigh until he's tantalizingly close to cupping his cock. "Desperate. Wanting. Regardless of what you want to call it, I like seeing you as wrecked as I've felt these past couple of months."

Wrecked is definitely the right word. Tony's willpower is equal to that of a Jenga tower right now. One wrong move (or right one depending on who you ask), and he'll come tumbling down, and Steve will have to pick up his pieces.

Tony's lips part when Steve takes him into his hand, a soft gasp escaping them as he spreads the wetness of his pre-come along his cock. Heat pools low in his belly, and Tony finds himself spreading his legs wider, baring himself for Steve to use however he pleases.

"Are you going to wreck me?" Tony says.

Steve's grip tightens on his cock, and Tony bucks up into his fist, his hands flying up to make contact with Steve's skin. "I don't want to wreck you," Steve says, eyes burning. "I want to worship you."

"That's blasphemous, Rogers," Tony says. Worship. Like he's something pure. Like he's someone worth loving.

In the most shocking plot twist of his life, Steve Rogers, Captain fucking America, says, "Who the fuck needs a god when I have you?"

It's a far cry from the "aw, shucks" wholesome Irish Catholic mask Steve dons, but Tony shouldn't be too surprised. This is the same man who got him off at the dinner table. And the shower. And the helicarrier.

There's still a part of Tony that thinks he doesn't deserve it, such utter devotion, such attraction (he won't dare call it the other word he's thinking of lest he get his hopes up,) but for what seems like the umpteenth time, he decides to ignore his doubts.

"This moment is mine. If he stays, or if he leaves, this will always be mine." He'll take whatever he can get from Steve with eager hands.

Steve's hand reaches for the lube once more, the other jerking Tony off at an agonizingly slow pace until he's truly hard and leaking pre-come all over Steve's fist.

Steve slicks up his cock, and Tony's toes curl at the thought of all of that going inside him. He wants it, though. He wants Steve like he's never wanted anything else in his life.

Tony isn't new to desire or lust, but the need burning inside of him like a red-hot coal consumes him in its intensity.

"Steve, please," he says, hating the desperate chord in his voice. "Wreck me, worship me, do whatever you want, just do something."

Steve swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, and he nods. "Fuck, Tony. Okay."

He lets go of Tony's cock, but Tony has no time to beg because he's lining himself up with Tony's entrance.

Tony can practically hear his heart beating in his chest over the sound of Steve's steady, even breathing. Steve presses into him so slowly, so carefully like he's trying not to break Tony in half.

"Fuck that," he thinks.

Tony cants his hips up, teasing Steve's cock, and says, "I can take it. I want you to fuck me, Steve."

Steve's hands clamp down on either side of Tony's hips, and Tony knows he's won this round when he sees the dark look in Steve's eyes. He plunges into Tony, fucking a sharp gasp out of him. Tony's not a virgin by any means. His playboy reputation is a well-earned one. But it's been so long since he's been full. Steve's only halfway in him, and yet Tony feels like he's in his stomach.

"Is this what you wanted?" Steve asks, withdrawing slightly to add more lube. He pushed back into Tony, the lube squelching obscenely as his hips slap against Tony's. Tony's face, his everything, is red, but he'll take it. He wants it.

"Yes," he says, wrapping his legs around Steve's waist, effectively trapping him. "I wanted you."

"You have me," Steve says, his voice hoarse and wretched. "You'll always have me."

Steve tilts his hips just slightly, but the change in angle is enough to make Tony clench around him as his cock presses incessantly against that sweet, electrifying spot inside of Tony.

They both curse, Tony at the change in angle, the lightning in his blood, Steve at Tony's sudden tightness, and Steve fucks into him in earnest.

Tony's being unmade. He's unraveling at the seams like a worn-out sweater, and Steve's stitching him back together.

Their skin is tacky with sweat and lube, and the clean-up will be awful, but Tony doesn't care as the reality of the day hits him. Tony almost died. He almost died, and he loves Steve, and he should tell him while he has the chance.

Steve buries his head into Tony's neck. "I almost lost you," he says, his voice breaking.

"You didn't," Tony gasps.

Steve doesn't say anything, just presses into Tony harder, like he's trying to seep into Tony's skin. Tony throws a hand over his mouth to stifle his moans even though it's just them, but Steve catches his hand and intertwines it with his.

"No," he says. "I want...I need to hear you."

Tony's toes curl as he nods and lets the moans he was holding back slip from his mouth untethered. If anything, they spur Steve on. His bed squeaks with each thrust, and Tony can hear Steve mumbling under his breath, a litany of "I need you," and "So tight, so good," and "Stay with me."

Tony should tell him. He should tell Steve he loves him, but something holds him back. He doesn't want Steve to think it was just a spur of the moment ordeal. He wants Steve to be sure that he loves him, that his soul has completely intertwined with Steve's, that they're one. It should be perfect.

So instead of saying I love you, he just lifts Steve's head up to look him in his face. He loves seeing the utter desperation in Steve's face, the euphoria right before he comes, loves knowing that he was the one to bring him to such heights. He sees it now. Steve's on the edge, his hair falling into his eyes, his lips all red and bitten like a smear of blood.

"Tony, I—"

Steve never finishes his sentence as Tony's tongue slinks into his mouth. Steve moans, kissing him back. One of his hands finds Tony's cock. Tony bucks into his fist, still slick with lube, digs his nails into Steve's back until they're both falling apart. Steve comes inside him with a muffled groan, filling him with a wet heat; meanwhile, Tony feels like his brain is leaking from his ears as his come spurts from his cock and paints both of their stomachs in white.

When Steve's hand strokes his cheek and comes away wet, Tony realizes that he's crying. Steve kisses his cheeks and his forehead and his nose, and when he finally goes for Tony's mouth, Tony lets out the softest, "Thank you."

Steve hovers over him. For a moment, Tony thinks he's going to say those three terrifying words. Horror and excitement alike send his stomach rolling, but Steve just says, "Anything for you."

He's not sure if he should be disappointed or relieved.

#stony #stevetony #superhusbands #steve x tony #steve rogers #tony stark #imperialstark fic #imperialstark writing #my fic #my writing #marvel #mcu #nsfk #choke on me

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minghaocouture · 4 years

Text

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung X Gender Neutral Reader Genre: Modern Magic AU, Fluff Warning: Language WC: 4K+

A/N: @svtxsoju HAPPY HOLIDAYS BINU!!! I know it’s a bit late but here you got <333 I wub you sooooo much and I hope you have a happy new year!! Also this is the last of my simper council holiday gifts so once the new year starts i’ll go back to working on my actual requests!

“That’ll be $24.78” The rather small vile in your hand held no more than 8mm of the shiny silver liquid. It was strange, and almost looked like glittery dish soap if you had no clue what you were looking at. It wasn’t a surprise to you when your customer gasped, shocked at how much such a small amount cost. His open palm slammed down harshly on the counter that separated the two of you.

“That’s ridiculous! Vetra’s shop was selling this for $10!” At his words, you wrapped your fingers around the small vial and pulled it away from him.

“Then go buy it at Vetra’s place, half the price for half the quality.” You retorted, rolling your eyes at the man’s attempt to have you lower your price. “Some of us actually put in the labor to make these potions, and I’ll be damned if I slaved over these vials just for some ass wipe to try and get me to dock my prices. So either buy this for $24, or get out of my shop.”

It might have seemed harsh, but you weren’t one to put up with bullshit. There were quite a few potion shops around town but very few actually made their own stock, many just buying it online and reselling it in a different container. Not you though, you put energy and so much magic into your work and you weren’t going to be haggled. At least not by some low rank vampire trash who thought he was better than everyone.

The male bared his fangs towards you, causing you to roll your eyes. Your free hand subtly reaching down below your register and grabbing a small pure silver dagger, just to prepare for a fight just in case. Vampires were usually the ones who tried to start something, so it was left there as a precaution for yourself and your employees.

The vampire growled, his eyes flickering over to a display of yours and you felt your heart sink. With a speed you could barely see the male had thrust his arm out, knocking the carefully put together display from the counter before he stormed out of the store.

“Get out of my way!” You heard him shout, shoving past a customer who was trying to enter the building.

You called out a small welcome as the door shut but didn’t bother to identify the new customer as you got to cleaning up. It wouldn’t be terrible but it was very annoying and exhausting. Placing your dagger back into its usual position before pulling your wand out of your back pocket.

“Novis Tempus” You muttered, flicking your wand into the direction of the mess now covering the linoleum floor of your shop. You felt the magic slip from your core, travel through your fingertips, down the mahogany of your wand and seeping out from the purples and blue of the fluorite perched at the end of your wand.

Your spell slipped through the air, a small light pink aura circling the mess that had spilled. Slowly it began to change. The liquid from the spilled vials slithered back into the glass, the shattered vials stitching themselves back together, and the wood from the broken standee returning to its rightful positions. It took a few seconds but you always loved watching as it happened, and soon your display was once again perched on the countertop where it had previously been standing.

Despite being a rather seasoned witch, the spell was advanced and took quite a bit of energy which left you rather exhausted. You were pretty grateful that your cover, a younger and much less experienced witch, named Christopher, would be arriving within the hour to take over so you could recoup the spent energy.

“Looks like I missed a party!”

The familiar voice instantly brought a grin to your face, your eyes flickering over to be greeted by the bright shining face of your favorite customer.

“Soonyoung! I thought you weren’t gonna make it in today, you’re later than usual.” You replied, making your way over to where you kept your...commissioned items. It was rare for you to get werewolves in here, most of their species didn’t really try to tone down their transformations, they enjoyed letting out their beast once a month. Not to mention how dangerous, time consuming, and expensive making a wolfsbane potion was, which definitely made them...one of your more pricey items that you would only make if requested, so most werewolves couldn’t afford it even if they wanted to. (though if someone was really desperate and you had the time you’d probably give them the first one for free. You’re not completely heartless.)

The male jutted out his lower lip at his words being ignored, it was kind of ridiculous how adorable he was when he pouted like that. Maybe that was why you poked his buttons like that, or at least the buttons you were aware of. Despite his monthly visits, you hadn’t tried to meet him outside of work before. A shame really.

As you crouched down to the bottom shelf where you kept requests, you heard the male start up. His voice always brought a smile to your face, his mood must just be contagious.

“I uhh missed my train?” Obviously a lie, but you weren’t going to point it out. After all, it wasn’t any of your business; he was just a customer. A very funny and endearing customer but a customer nonetheless.

Pulling out the large circular bottle, complete with a wooden cork shoved into the neck. The light blue liquid swirled in the glass with an almost eerie glow. You doubted that you would ever get used to the aura that the wolfsbane potion gave off. Bottle in hand, you returned to your register where Soonyoung stood with a small almost nervous grin on his face. Placing the bottle down on the marble countertop, you slid it forward with a single finger.

“Well, you better head out then, before you miss your train home.” You joked, watching as the tension seemed to drift away from him. At least he seemed more comfortable now. “Same thing for next month? Doing another early payment?”

You watched Soonyoung grab the fragile bottle and slide it snuggly into the backpack he was carrying (you were honestly surprised it survived the trip home considering how you’d seen the young man run.) As he did so, he pulled out the familiar pale blue wallet that he kept inside.

“As always! You already know my schedule so well!” He said happily, pulling out a bundle of cash and handing it over to you. “It’s on the 25th next month and I can come grab it on the 21st. Is that enough time?”

His question caused you a brief pause, filing through a mental category of your stock. You were almost out of moonstone after the last potion so you’d need to restock and then powder that, but nothing extreme so you confirmed this with a nod and a finalization of his payment.

“Well, I’ll see you next month then!” Considering this had been your routine for the past few months, you expected a small farewell before the bleach blond bounded from the store. So you pulled out your inventory book and began writing notes about his potion. Today was different though, as he lingered. You could feel his piercing eyes on you for a moment, just watching before he spoke up once more.

“I was...actually wondering if you were free anytime today?” You froze, your pen hovering over the parchment as your brain processed what had just been asked of you. Weighing the pros and cons of being honest with him, on one hand he was kind and you had just been thinking about what it would be like to actually befriend the male but on the other hand, this could have been a long game plan if he was some crazy killer. It was unfortunately, but you had to think of things like that, especially with the recent surge of missing persons cases.

“No pressure! I know it’s super weird and suspicious that I’m asking buuut, you’re pretty cool and I’d actually like to get to know you! Not to be a creep, but like as a friend.”

It was sweet, and the smile on his face was definitely inviting enough. So against your better judgement, you let out a small sigh.

“I get off at 5, think you can wait til then?”

If his neutral face was bright, then his cheerful one was blinding. His grin stretched from ear to ear and you watched as he pumped a fist into the air out of excitement. It was honestly really sweet and made your heart flutter that he was that excited to spend time with you outside of work.

“Yeah! I’ll hang around the district and come back when you’re off!” With that the male literally bounded out of your shop. As the door slammed shut behind him, silence surrounded you and couldn’t stop the joyful laughter from spilling from your lips.

You helped out a few more customers before Chris arrived, but once he did you quickly got to work on preparing to leave. Doing things like going over inventory, and rearranging some things that customers had decided to touch, with just a bit more pep in your step than usual. Which Chris definitely noticed.

“Someone’s in a hurry. Usually I have to push you out the door, just so you’ll go home and rest.” You had known Chris for a few years and he of course had seen right through you. Because of this you saw no reason to defend yourself.

“Yeah, you know that Werewolf regular?”

“Soonyoung?”

“Yeah, him. Well, he asked if I wanted to hang out after work,” You explained, trying to keep casual about the whole ordeal despite how excited you were. Finalizing your inventory check, you slid your work book back under the counter and when you stood up once more, Chris was smirking in your direction, rather smugly in fact. “What?”

“I was wondering when this was going to happen. He’s always making eyes at you whenever he comes in. It’s right cute.” He teased, and you were grateful that no one else was in the store to hear this. Feeling a heat rush to your face, you rolled your eyes at the male.

“Come off it Chris, He does not.”

“He does! He’s always like this!” He exclaimed, before quickly adjusting his position to show an example. Leaning one elbow on the counter he placed his cheek in his palm and just began staring at you with a sweetly intent look. You hated to admit it, but you had caught Soonyoung staring like that...once or twice, but you weren’t going to tell Chris that.

“Maybe you need to go get those eyes checked out, cause you’re seeing things.” You declared, slipping past him into the break room that was hidden past the door behind the counter. You almost cheered in relief as you heard the familiar bell ring through the store, signaling a new customer entering. Which meant that Chris wouldn’t be able to follow after you and the embarrassment would be over.

That was...not the case when you heard Chris’ cheerful voice greet the customer.

“Soonyoung! Nice to see ya! It’s been a while, you usually come in when I’m off.”

You mind blanked and you quickly got all of your belongings together, shoving your phone in your pocket before rushing out of the break room. Only to find Soonyoung and Chris laughing cheerfully as they spoke to one another. You almost let out a physical sigh of relief when you realized it was just a regular conversation and Chris hadn’t strayed the topic over to you.

When Soonyoung saw you though, his eyes lit up like it was some sort of holiday even though he had just seen you about an hour ago. Honestly, nothing had probably even changed about your appearance since then and yet he still looked at you like you...radiant.

“See ya later Chris, you have my number if anything happens. Don’t burn down the store!” The male in question quickly formed a mock salute that was almost as serious as a real one, if it weren’t for the intent purpose of making fun of you.

“Aye aye, Parental unit!”

Rolling your eyes, you gestured for Soonyoung to follow you and soon the two of you were gone. Off on an adventure that would be the first spark in a well lit fire.

***

When you left with Soonyoung, you were expecting the typical things that a guy does when he takes people out. What you got was...much different.

He started off by taking you to get a bite to eat, you were pretty hungry after your shift and so you were pretty grateful for that. The place was pretty small, a little mom and pop shop run by some friends of his named Seungkwan and Seokmin. If you thought Soonyoung was funny, then him with his two friends was absolutely hysterical, especially when he would tell stories of their adventures and imitate his two friends. (Seungkwan was not happy about that later part).

That’s when things took a turn.

Instead of a typical, let’s go see a movie, Soonyoung suggested a nearby gym area. Now it wasn’t really a ‘gym’, it was more of an entertainment location. It had things like rock climbings, a large number of trampolines, and even some feats of courage where you would try to jump from a singular platform to a large punching bag looking object while you were at least 20 feet off the ground (or at least that’s what it felt like once you were up there).

Which is currently where you were, harness strapped snuggly around you and a helmet placed firmly on your head. Eyes staring out at the large gap between you and your target, your hands pressing firmly against the cold metal of the pillar that you had just climbed up.

“Going to be completely honest, Soonie! I don’t think I got this!” You called out to the male who stood below with the service tech. He was suited up quite similarly as he was preparing to go right after you, but had dared you to try it first since you’d never been here before.

“I thought you were a witch, don’t witches fly?” He called back, confusion lacing his voice. It did provide a small laugh from you.

“Flying on a broomstick, and jumping crazy distances are two completely different things! I really don’t think I can do this!”

“Yes you can! Just scream Horanghae, it can take away all your fears!” He shouted back, earring him a rather confused look from you.

“Horanghae??”

“Horanghaaaaaae!” His voice almost tripled in volume as he confirmed the rather strange phrase, you probably wouldn’t have thought anything of it if he were like...a were-tiger, but he wasn’t. He was just full of surprises.

Taking a deep breath you heard him chant the phrase as you steeled yourself. With one last intake, you leaped forward with a loud scream of, what seemed to be, his favorite word. To your surprise, the distance was quite small once you were in the air and you latched onto the tube like a koala. Your was heavy and your heart was throbbing, but hearing Soonyoung go absolutely crazy below in excitement made it all worth it.

The two of you didn’t stay too much longer after that, going out into the now dark city. You hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten until you exited the building and were on your way to what Soonyoung was referring to as the ‘last bit’.

Now here you were, laying on your back in the middle of a park and staring up at the stars. Soonyoung was going on and on about the stars and these different constellations that his friend Wonwoo had shown him. It was...sweet, but you were only partially listening. You were conflicted, you really really liked him but...he was a customer. Wouldn’t it be weird to be crushing on a customer? Wouldn’t it?

“And that one is my favorite because it looks like a tiger! Isn’t it cool?”

Your eyes drifted over to him as he stared up at the night sky with those bright cheerful eyes that seemed to envelop your whole being with joy. His pale blonde hair gently brushed against his forehead with every small gust of wind. The light in his brown eyes was enchanting to see, and his smile...well it was radiant.

“Yeah...it’s beautiful.”

But you weren’t talking about the stars.

***

“And every time he’s around my heart is racing and It’s like all I can think about is him! Do you know how hard it is to help other customers when he comes into the store? It’s impossible.” It hadn’t been your intent to rant to Chris about Soonyoung, yet here you were. He had just asked if you were hanging out with the wolfman today and that sparked a 20 minute long tangent about the last 6 months that you had been spending with Soonyoung outside of work.

“You’re in love with him?”

“Chris you can’t just say the L word out loud!” You exclaimed, slapping a hand over Christopher’s mouth as if his words would call the male into the store. Chris rolled his eyes and peeled your hand off of his face before taking a grip on your shoulders.

“Just confess to him, it’s not like he doesn’t feel the same way. I swear you could dump boiling hot soup on his lap and he would thank you just because it’s you.” Chris declared, which was absolutely ridiculous. No one would thank someone for pouring soup on them, that was a dumb analogy.

You shrugged off his hands, and propped yourself up on the countertop since there were no customers in the store. Crossing your arms over your chest and letting out a frustrated groan as your gaze lifted to the ceiling.

“He’s still a customer, wouldn’t that be weird.” Out of the corner of your eye you could see Chris fixing you with a rather confused look. So you continued. “I mean, like what if he doesn’t like me and then it’s super awkward and he feels uncomfortable coming back into the shop? Not only would I just get to deal with a broken heart, but he could also like report us? Right? For like, being inappropriate?”

Chris snorted in disbelief at your ridiculous statement, so you turned your gaze to him and shot a glare in his direction.

“He wouldn’t report you, dumbo. I’m telling you, just go for it. You might be pleasantly surprised with his response.”

Before you could retort, claiming that Chris was being way too optimistic for his own good, the doorbell rang and the two of you turned to greet the new customer.

“Soonyoung! What a surprise, we were just talking about you!” Your heart sunk at Chris’ words, and you shot him a dirty look, jamming your elbow harshly into his side. Which caused him to let out a loud yelp as you greeted Soonyoung.

The male in question didn’t seem to notice anything was odd, and just beamed at the two of you as he sauntered up to the counter. The weight in your back pocket felt heavy as you watched him. It was a few days before his birthday and the two of you decided to hang out together since you wouldn’t be able to take the whole day off for his party (yes you were the boss, but it was just you and Chris and you weren’t gonna leave the poor guy alone all damn day. You weren’t heartless). He greeted Chris with a grin before turning his attention solely to you.

“Ready to head out?”

“Almost I’ve still got to fin-”

“Yup, they’re totally ready!” Chris exclaimed, shoving you towards the gap in the counter as he cut you off. “I’ve got everything under control here! Have fun kids!” Honestly it felt like he was your parent sending you off on your first date which made this all the more embarrassing.

Soonyoung seemed to notice the conflicting words and a bright laugh left his lips, his eyes slipping shut as his smile grew with his laughter. It only took a moment for him to recover and then extend his hand towards you, and without even thinking about it you took the offered hand. You could practically feel Chris’s eyes boring into your skull, the smug look on his face saying ‘i told you so’, as the two of you left the store.

You lead Soonyoung by the hand over to your car and he quickly climbed into the passenger side of the car. You followed much slower, pulling his gift out of your pocket before sliding into the drivers seat.

Not bothering to turn the car on yet, you turned to face him. The small black box held tightly in your hands, as if it were the only thing keeping you cemented in the moment. You almost wished you had taken one of those courage potions you sold, maybe you’d be less anxious right now, but you wanted this moment to be true to your feelings and the potion would have just muddled that up. Giving you a false sense of strength when you needed to find it on your own this time.

“Happy Birthday Soonie.” You flashed him a small smile, passing over the tiny box. He gasped and took it from you quickly, pulling open the lid to reveal a necklace. The cord was made of leather, which would be smoother to wear than a metal chain, and a gem at the center. A piece of Tiger’s eye with a shiny golden wire wrapped intricate around the stone which kept it in place.

“It’s not much but that’s a Tiger’s eye. It wards off negative energy, dispels fears, and helps bring good luck. I mean, it had more uses than that, those are just some of them. I figured it’d be good for you since you said you were worried about starting that new job, and it’s also a tiger’s eye and I know you really like tigers, and i like you so obviously i remembered that about you. “ You continued to ramble on as Soonyoung pulled the necklace out of the box and stared at it as if you had just gifted him the most priceless gem in the world. Your heart ached as you watched him slip the cord over his neck and turn to face you. Your heart sputtered as his eyes met yours and you felt yourself practically melt in your seat when he took your hand once more.

“Was that a confession I heard? You really like me? Like...like like me?” All at once you realized what you had done, Chris would never let you hear the end of this. It was probably the worst confession in the history of confessions.

You tore your gaze away, your eyes firmly planting on the sight of his hand gripping yours.

“I mean, yeah what’s not to like. You’re hilarious, sweet, and honestly really hot too. It’s almost ridiculous how perfect you are, and I jus-” You felt your words trail off as his free hand reached out and cupped your cheek, forcing you to look up at him once again. You almost completely combusted at the sight of his watching you as if you had hung the stars just for him.

“Would it be cheesy to say that cast a love spell on me.”

“Love spells are highly illegal.”

“Just let me be cheesy!” He pouted, but his eyes never lost that loving spark. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours and you felt like time had completely come to a stand still. You knew what you wanted, and from what he said you were hopeful that he wanted the same thing.

“Soonyoung, will you...kiss me?” As soon as the question left your lips, he had taken them with his own. It was like something clicked into place as he kissed you, his lips pressing firmly against your own as his hand slid to gently grip the back of your neck. Everything was perfect, he was perfect.

When the moment passed, he pulled away and let out a laugh.

“Best. Birthday. Gift. Ever.”

#caratwritersclub #kdiner #kdiarynet #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt scenario #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung imagine #soonyoung scenario #hoshi x reader #hoshi imagine #hoshi scenario

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evening-starlight · 3 years

Text

Chances {Chapter Eleven}

I lied, this is the longest chapter. They just keep getting longer ya’ll

Master List

Comfortable, Not Easy

Word Count: 2010

I spent the next two weeks avoiding everyone and everything thing, especially after I slipped and invited Jared over. Not my proudest moment. Robbie dropped by a couple of times to coax me out of bed, but it didn't work. I felt dirty, used, and stupid. I called Jared after he assaulted me in front of my house like a whore and let him stay over for nine days.

It wasn't necessarily comfortable being with Jared for nine days, but it was familiar. I knew what to expect from waking up to going to bed. Tom was texting to check in as well, and I ignored every sweet text he sent me. I couldn't face the fact that he was there, waiting for me to recoup while I was living with my ex again.

Robbie finally kicked Jared out on day ten for me. I told him about the kisses and how horrible I felt letting Jared stay on day nine. Jared was gone before I woke up, and Robbie was trying to pull me out of bed. Literally.

Robbie pulls on my ankle repeatedly, trying to loosen my hold on the headboard. "Come," pull. "On." He pulls again. "You can't stay locked in your room because you've made a mistake, Stella." He scolds, sitting next to my feet. I grunt in response. "I swear to all things LA, I will make Stevie do a house call." I moan louder, pulling a pillow over my head. The space next to me dips down, and Robbie throws an arm over me.

Whenever I'm in a lousy mood, Robbie's first response is forceful eviction of my room followed by snuggles. If either won't work, he calls Stevie. In our ten years of friendship, he's gotten to know me inside and out. He's my closest friend and my most relied-on confidant. He knows more about me than anyone else in the world. He knows the darkest places in my head and knows how to help me navigate them better than myself. He was the only one who was there during my entire marriage and divorce. Hell, he was my bro of honor.

I turn to lay on his chest, curling in to feel his warmth and wrapping my arms around him so tight I thought he'd turn purple. I never, ever, want to lose him. "I hate seeing you like this, Stell." He mumbles. "You're so hard on yourself. I know it's easy with Jared; you guys have a routine. He's easy, and Tom is hard. I understand why you did what you did." The sobs rip out of me in violent bursts. I hate how well he knows me some days, especially when he says things I know I need to hear.

He remains quiet as I sob, rubbing my head and holding me tight. He's the rock in my twisted life, and I'd be lost without him. Robbie makes me feel seen, heard, and appreciated even after my undesirable days.

When the sobs turn into small whimpers, Robbie continues, "I think you need to talk to Tom; he's genuinely worried for you. He's dropped by the studio to ask about you. God, you should have seen him, Stella. He's a fucking god. Don't even get me started on those eyes dude, they're so blue." I can't help but laugh at Robbie's fanboying. "They hold so many emotions I didn't know they could do that. He looked so worried and concerned. He really cares about you."

"I know he does." I manage. "I just don't want to bring him into this fucked up life I've created for myself. He deserves so much better." Robbie sits up quickly, grabbing my face to look at him. His eyebrows are pulled together, and his face is set in a stern look. His father look.

"You deserve better, Stella Thompson. You deserve a man like Tom. You deserve Jesus himself for all I care. You need someone who will treat you ten times better than Jared ever could. Someone who loves and cherishes you as you are, broken, sharp pieces and all." Robbie runs a thumb over the new tears leaking. "You are the most beautiful person I have ever met, Stella. You care so deeply about people that you let them continue to be in your life even after they've fucked you over a dozen times. Stella, you deserve to start over with someone like Tom."

I swear to God, the universe was listening to us because, as if divine intervention stepped in, my phone begins to buzz on the nightstand. Robbie reaches to hang up before going over the name again. "Here. Talk to him. I'll make you some food." With that, Robbie leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

With a grounding breath, I answer the phone with a meek hello. "Oh, thank heavens you're okay." Tom breaths out a sigh of relief on the other side of the phone. "I was beginning to worry. More. Worry more than I already was."

"I'm sorry I scared you," I mumble. "And I'm sorry I've been MIA for so long. It's been a really rough two weeks after everything happened, and I tend to shut down when things get hard." I admit, brushing my mangled hair out of my face.

"I understand, Love. We all have bad habits. I was worried I had pushed too hard, and you were ghosting me. I was actually going to call and tell you I would give you some space if you hadn't picked up. I can still give you space if that's what you'd like?"

"No," I answer quickly. "No, please. I really like having you in my life, and I love the way you make me feel. But I have to tell you that Jared spent the week with me. It doesn't mean anything. He's just..." I pause, trying to find the right words to make my asshole move sound less assholey.

"Easy. You're used to him. I understand that, Love." I take in a shaky breath. "I appreciate you telling me. Is there anything I can do to help with your rut?"

"Can you come over sometime today? I could kinda use a hug from you." Fucking crying making my defenses turn to mush. It always makes me a ball of emotions and fussy needs.

"I'd be delighted to. Would you like me to bring some lunch?"

"No, Robbie is here making me some. You called at the perfect time, actually. We were talking about you. Everything good, though. Nothing bad." I reiterate quickly. Tom chuckles on the other end.

"Well, I was just thinking about you and hoping you were at least alive."

"The heart's still ticking, so the body is alive," I joke. "Brain could use a jumpstart, though."

"I'll be over in about ten if that's alright with you?" I confirm with him and hang up. Pulling myself out of bed for the first time in fourteen days, I make my way to the kitchen.

Robbie stands over the stove, cursing and shaking his left hand. "Burned yourself again?" I ask. If you'd lose a year off your life every time you got burnt, Robbie would have died at age five.

"Fuck off." He mumbles, going back to the grilled cheese he's making. "How'd the call go? It seemed pretty short." I nod as I sit on a barstool.

"Fine, he's coming over in a few minutes." It hits me. Tom Hiddleston is coming over to my depression pit of a house after I've had two weeks of nonstop crying and zero hygiene. "Fuck, I need to shower." I curse, rushing to the bathroom. A quick shower will help everything. Hopefully.

Robbie pokes his head into the bathroom as I wrap my towel around me. "Tom's here. I'm going to keep him company while you get changed." He states before winking and shutting the door again. I don't feel like I have the energy to put on any form of makeup to cover up how deathly ill I look, nor the power to care what I look like besides the clean part. The shower did seem to wash away the residual guilt and shame I felt about everything. Though it didn't clean off everything.

After changing into some comfortable clothes, I make my way into the living room, where Robbie is watching Tom talk with nothing less than homosexual love in his face. "Robbie, out," I demand, catching both boys' attention. He leaves after a quick goodbye and non-discrete wink.

Tom walks over to meet me behind the couch, wrapping his arms around my shoulders in a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're doing better," He mumbles into my hair. "I've been worried." We stand like that for a few minutes before my stomach growls loud enough for him to hear. "Here, Robbie left your food on the table." Tom leads me to the couch and sits next to me, our legs touching.

"Thank you for being so understanding, Tom. I know I'm pretty fucked, and I really appreciate you being understanding of it all." He smiles as I take a bite of the grilled cheese. Robbie should be made grilled cheese God the way it melts in my mouth.

"Of course, Love. We are all pretty fucked when we think about it. I haven't felt this way in quite some time. I know I can be a bit pushy, but I really enjoy your company," Tom says, sending those all-too-familiar shivers down my spine. "We can take things as slowly as you'd like. We can stay friends if that's what you need to heal as well." I shake my head while finishing a bite.

"I don't want just friends, Tom. You make me feel like a better version of me. Less dark and gloomy." The anxiety of actually communicating and talking about feelings causes my knee to bounce. Jared never let me talk so candidly, and I'm afraid I might overstep. "Can I be honest?" Tom nods quickly. "I have absolutely no idea how to communicate in a not toxic way.

"My whole life, it's been demonstrated that yelling and cursing is the only way to get across what I'm feeling. What I do know is that I like who I am when I'm around you, and I don't want that feeling to ever stop." Tom presses a kiss on my forehead.

"Then let us work it out together. I like who I am when I'm with you as well." The absolute zoo that took residence in my stomach could wipe out the entire human population. Tom motherfucking Hiddleston likes being with me. "Bloody hell, I fancy you, Stella."

Tom chuckles as I start to choke on my own breath. He reaches for the Caprisun set out and hands it to me. Tom likes me. He like likes me. Tom Hiddleston. Who would have guessed my damaged ass would land someone like him.

For years after my breakup with Jared, I thought all I deserved was heartbreak and pieces of shit men. Maybe I could really turn my life around here. Turn it into something wonderful and perfect. Something made just for me.

"I, uh, I fancy you too, Tom," I admit after controlling my breathing. His smile in this exact moment will stay with me forever. No ill-meaning behind it, wide and bright, and absolutely dazzling. Tom was as close to perfect as one man could get.

The kiss. The kiss that followed behind our confessions was just as magical, if not more magical, than the first. Only this time, there was no Jared to ruin it. It was just Tom, me, and the ugly off-white sofa I stole from Jared when I moved out.

How do you even end a chapter after that? Like, I impressed myself with that shit. We still own that couch too. It's where our little love story started, truly. I mean, no, we didn't go exclusive at that moment, but it's where it began.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #i got 99 problems and tom hiddleston could fix everyone of them #jared leto #Jared Leto imagine #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fanfiction #love #romance #fanfiction #fanfic #Original content #original character #oc #og #Chances #fiction

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voorbeees · 4 years

Text

[ hi im back with a part 2 bc im a sappy bitch. you can read part one here ]

Jesse makes his way into the kitchen. Early mornings are a thing he's had to get used to and there doesn't seem to be enough coffee in the world to keep him awake. Sure he's typically awake for work, but he schedules appointments around the time he spends recouping from his nightly hobby. After all a business doesn't run itself. He thinks this, accompanied with a move to LA shortly after taking the girl in could play a large part in it.

Shortly after they'd arrived at the new home, Tilly had been thrilled to learn she had her own room and own things. Apparently that was another thing her mother had failed to provide. He wants to ask her what her life was like before, but each time he thinks to broach the subject something makes him shy away from it. Maybe it's for the best. Besides, considering what it was, Jesse's sure he'll feel fire settle in his veins. Not long after that he'd had her enrolled in a small private school. It was never too early to start an education. He's also taken it upon himself to start teaching her ASL. The decision was only made final when she had looked up at him with those puppy dog eyes and said the simple phrase "I wish we could talk better."

And that had been another thing, not once had she acted like he was a stranger. It was actually the opposite. She acted like she'd known him her whole life. Maybe that was good, it made breaking the ice less difficult, at least in his mind.

Now Jesse adjusts his black suit coat, making sure he looks dressed to a T, even if he is just going downstairs. He's always been one to preen, current circumstances haven't changed that at all. Black Oxfords echo off the marble floor and he's instantaneous met with the beaming face of Tilly.

"Jesse! Jesse!" She rushes from her seat at the dining room table and bounces around his legs. Her tiny red curls dance about her shoulders in the process. She wastes no time in asking for her favorite thing, which is only made obvious a split second later when she holds her arms up, waiting to be picked up.

He picks her up with ease, acting like she weighs nothing (and to him she probably does). Her tiny arms wrap around his neck. She's made it clear she enjoys being at his height. Tilly pulls out of the hug a second later and starts flapping a tiny arm in the air. "I've been practicing with my writing!" She beams, little face begging for approval. He'd be cruel to deny her that so Jesse nods and walks the both of them back over to the table. Tilly wiggles herself out of his grasp just enough so she can grab the paper and shove it in his face.

It takes his eye a moment to focus and he has to hold the paper back a bit but sure enough, there in a child's scrappy handwriting is her name repeated at least ten times. Her statement is met with a slow nod of approval.

"Oh!" She finally makes the effort to remove herself from his arms and settle back into her chair. "Maybe I can try writing your name next?" It's a question but he knows what she's implying and its not a moment later that he pulls his phone out. He spends a moment typing on it and then turns it around to face her.

J-E-S-S-E

An amused look settles on his scarred face as he sees her focusing all her attention to write his name. Her tongue pokes out of the left side of her mouth as she finishes the last letter and holds it up, rather proud of herself.

It's messy but it's a cute gesture, so he takes it from her and pins it to the fridge with a magnet. That earns him a squeal of delight. The excitement is short lived as she goes back to her task. Jesse takes the opportunity to finally pour himself a cup of coffee.

' YOU'RE SPENDING THE DAY WITH SPANN. ' He hasn't actually left her alone yet. At least not that she knows. He's made sure to always leave when she's asleep, a caretaker there if something was to arise in his absence. The last thing he wants is for Tilly to think he's abandoning her.

"Why?" She asks as she looks up at him and then goes back to her work.

' I HAVE...BUSINESS. ' If you can consider visiting a plastic surgeon business. It's something he's wanted to do since he first saw what was once his "face". But Spann and the doctors had highly discouraged any reconstruction until the scars were fully healed. All in all it had added up to almost a year's time and it had been nothing but pure hell. Not that he cared what people thought when they saw him, more so he cared what he saw when he looked at himself in the mirror. It wasn't good. Hell, for the first several months he'd busted every mirror within five feet of him, going so far as to have them removed from places of his organization that had them. It'd been a touchy subject and not many could breach it.

Jesse remembers when Tilly saw his face for the first time. It had been the next day and it was on accident. He wasn't planning on showing the mangled part of himself until she seemed comfortable around him. But she had walked in on him in his home office. He'd been sitting at his desk, mask safety packed away in the chrome case. She was supposed to be sleeping and much to his horror when he had looked up, she wasn't. Instead she was standing in the doorway with wide eyes. He'd frozen like a deer in headlights. What the fuck was he supposed to do? Was she scared of him? Fuck, he'd be scared of himself. It's not like he even looked human anymore. He sat there for what felt like an eternity, unmoving until she walked forward. "You got hurt bad, huh?" She hadn't looked at him in disgust, but rather understanding. It was like it was the most common thing to ever happen. Tilly had come up and stood in front of him. "I got hurt one time too." She pulled her hair back to show a small indention on her forehead. "I hit my head and it left a really big spot." Something about that small stupid child gesture had made him laugh. It had demolished the wall he had built, afraid of traumatizing her.

Tilly lays her pencil down and looks up at Jesse now. To only be six she's intuitive. She can tell by the way he grips the handle of the mug and shifts his weight slightly that something is off. Usually its "I have work." Not "business." It's an odd choice of words. So she does what kids do best, she bombards him with fucking questions. "What kind?"

' BUSINESS. '

There's that word again. No matter how hard she tries, she just can't fucking pick out the problem. "Can I come?" Jesse shakes his head 'no.' A tiny frown creases her brow. "Do you have to go to the doctor?" Suddenly she gasps, standing up in her chair. "Are you sick!?"

Jesse's signing and shaking his head 'no' before he can stop himself. It's not hard to tell she's working herself up. Fuck, the last thing he wants right now or at all is her to he upset.

"Are-are you going for your face?" Tilly sniffles and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. Of course he fucking is, why else would he go to a god damned doctor. He obviously can't say it like that so he nods. "Bu-but there's nothing wrong with it!" Now she's just being polite, Jesse's sure of it. But the logical part of his brain says no, she's upset because she fucking cares about you you god damned fool. "What i-if I don't know who you are after? Because you lo-ook different?!" At that she breaks into full on hysteria. There's a few other words but Jesse can't make them out. It just all sounds garbled to him.

He considers pulling his phone out again but settles for a different approach. Jesse lowers himself on to one knee a few inches from her perch in the chair. He signs "hush" and "okay". Those are the easiest ones she's able to read but she just shakes her head crying even harder. "It's no-ot okay!" There's a hiccup added after she finishes speaking and for a split second Jesse thinks she's going to suffocate on her own tears. He blinks several times, actually taken aback by just how upset she is over this. This is a good thing not a bad one. He's going to look better but she doesn't want that. Of course he understands the whole "changing of features" process but it's still him. It's not like he's cutting off one of his fucking hands.

" It will be okay. " His hand hovers over her back like it's debating if it should offer comfort or not. Instead the decision is made for him as Tilly wipes at her eyes and sniffles.

"You don't know that!" There's a long pause and for a second Jesse thinks she's going to start bawling again, but she doesn't. Instead she looks up at him and the intensity in that stare almost has him drawing back. There's something in it. Love? Impossible. People don't love him, they tolerate him. Or rather he pays them to tolerate him. Tilly blinks once, then twice and yes, he sees it now. It's a mixture of love and adoration. Something almost foreign to him. "What if something happens?" Her tiny lip quivers. "Who will I have then?"

Fuckfuckfuckfuck. His mind draws a blank. There's no way for him to completely assure something won't happen. Granted people don't usually die from plastic surgeon, though he guesses it's possible. ' IT WON'T. I WILL STILL BE HERE. ' The phone's electronic voice drones out into the air. That's not what he wants to say. Jesse wants to say this huge fucking essay of why she doesn't need to worry but sometimes the simplest answers are the best.

"Promise?"

' YES. '

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

Blinding light sears his brown eye as it flutters open. Are lights always this bright? He doesn't think so. If they are then he's definitely paying someone to dim all the ones in his house. Because Jesus fuck that's a horrible thing to wake up to. Jesse blinks a few times then lets out a sigh. He can't feel his face (which, God willing, with strong as fuck drugs he won't have to until it heals).

It's only after he's been awake for an hour or two that he turns to the door at his right and sees Spann standing there, Tilly's small wide eyed form in front of her. He offers a shakey wave as a greeting. Tilly looks up at Spann, who nods and urges her in then steps back out to answer a call. Jesse thinks she looks even more comical like this. She's acting like he's a porcelain doll that could break at the lightest touch.

Tilly rests her tiny arms on his bedside. "Do you feel better?" Jesse gives her a so-so response with his hand. She takes this as privilege to climb her way up into the bed beside him, her tiny form looking even smaller near him. "Well," her forehead wrinkles, "you don't look different."

Now he is laughing. His shoulders shaking as an indicator. She looks at him before deciding to curl up next to him, her tiny head on his shoulder. "I still love you anyway. Even if you look like a mummy."

Jesse signs. " I love you too, squirt. "

#voorbeees writes #slashers #slasher fandom #jesse cromeans #chromeskull #laid to rest #also i had a mental breakdown half way through bc of life #dont @ me if the second half is shit

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acreativeme · 3 years

Text

Little Dove

Clinton Skye x Reader

A/N: I don’t know Russian, so I am using google translate. I apologize for any mistakes. Also, there is some triggers in here about kidnapping, sexual assault, and sex trafficking.

She left a note, along with her phone and her engagement ring.

Clinton,

I’m sorry, but I couldn’t say goodbye in person. I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye and lie to you. I will be gone for a while, so I am not asking you to wait for me. I can’t tell you anything yet, but I will try when I get back. I love you with everything in me.

Y/N

Clinton sunk down the wall, his heart breaking as he reread her letter. They had been together for a few years, only recently getting engaged. It took him a few minutes, but he called Jess for support.

...2 Months later…

With the help of her driver, Y/N stepped out of the town car-- the slips of her black bodycon gown showing off her muscular legs. Her hair was held back with silver dagger-like sticks, making it easy for her to hide weapons on her person. A bald man in a tight black suit held out his arm for her to take, escorting her into the ball room.

“Добрый вечер, мэм. Аукцион начнется через т��идцать мин��т.”(Good Evening, Ma’am. The auction will begin in thirty minutes.) He said in a low tone.

Y/N nodded, “Спасибо.” (Thank you.)

He let her go as they walked through the doorway of the ballroom. She walked up to the bar, ordering a gin and tonic. As she took a little sip, she scanned the room--picking out her targets in the crowd. A Russian human trafficker had kidnapped four undercover CIA agents, so Y/N was here to get them back and take out the traffickers.

She downed her drink, passing it off to a waiter as they walked passed by. She quickly reapplied her lipstick before heading towards her first target. He was standing off to the side, watching the crowd. Y/N acted as if she hadn’t noticed him standing there, to get him to make the first move.

She watched him scan her from head to toe, smirking as he turned to fully look at her. “Вам нравится то, что вы видите?” (Do you like what you see?) She smirked, still facing away from him.

He smirked, “даже очень.” (Very much so).

Y/N boldly took his hand, leading him to a door that was off to the side of the ballroom. She knew from studying the floor plans that there was a small coat room that was not being used. With her in front, she was not aware that he had pulled something out of his pocket. As he closed the door, Y/N reached for the dagger that she had strapped to her upper thigh. He wrapped one arm around her from behind, using the other to inject her with a sedative.

“Goodnight, маленький голубь.’( Goodnight, little dove.)

...6 months later…

Clinton’s POV

Clinton leaned against the counter, staring off into space-- which is something he’s been doing alot. His thoughts have been shifting towards Y/N, the ex that went missing. Everyone keeps asking how he knew she was missing and hadn’t just left him, and he’d always respond with that he felt it in his soul. He knew with his whole heart that she wouldn’t have left without a good reason.

Jess stepped into the office with a grave look out his face. “Pictures of missing 16 year old, Irene Romanov, were found on sex trafficking website run by Russian Immigrant Dimitri Petrov.” He signaled Hana to pull up the website. “Many of the girls have been identified as missing in both the US and around Europe…” Jess froze as his eyes locked on one of the girls.

“Y/N…” Clinton whispered as he also locked onto her posting.

Y/N was laying on her back, hair dyed blonde. Her eyes were dull like life had been drained from them. She was in a matching pair of red and white lingerie with white fishnet stockings. There were bruises on her neck, arms, and inner thighs.

“What the fuck did they do to her?” Kenny stated, anger evident in his voice.

Hana clicked on the profile. “They say her name is Alyona. She is a ‘submissive and experienced’ lover.” She gagged at the end, as the team turned to look at Clinton.

His face was unreadable. “I told you.” was all he said as he stormed out of the room.

Y/N’s POV

She looked around the bare room that Dimitri had shoved her into, trying to figure a way out. She had been traded to Dimitri by the man that kidnapped her, who then moved her to America--not realizing that this was her home turf. She observed him as he moved around the warehouse that he turned into a brothel, noticing that he would leave doors open as he rotated girls in and out of the ‘business’ bedrooms.

Dimitri had a schedule for each girl, like this was some union job, and would rotate out the women after their shift. Y/N, however, was the only girl that he didn’t do that with. He would send in John after John, only giving her small intervals of time to recoup between dates. The only other thing he did different from the other girls was that he didn’t drug her. The man that sold her to him had mentioned that she was a submissive bitch and that he recommends not ‘damaging good goods’ with drugs.

Dimitri seemed to idolize the man that kidnapped her, so he listened to him about the drugs. Dimitri uses violence to keep her in line, especially when she acts out around the other girls. He would use her as an example to keep the other girls in line, which she would gladly continue to do if it meant she could protect the other girls.

The only time that Y/N gets to spend time with the other girls is when they shower, as Dimitri forces them to shower together in a prison-like shower area. She will check on them as they pass along the cheap hygiene products, which makes them consider her a guardian angel. There have been multiple times where he has come in to find her holding one of the other girls, which makes him rip the other girl out of her arms and back hand her.

“Are you ready for your next customer, Alyona? Heard he’s a dark one.” Dimitri stood over her with a dark grin.

She internally sighed, not wanting to show her true emotions. “Yes, master.” She replied meekly. She moved to be sitting on the edge of the bed with her knees together but feet apart.

He leaned out the doorway to signal for the customer to come. “You may enter, Sir. Your entertainment for the evening is ready.”

Y/N had to hold back a gasp as Clinton Skye walked through the door. “Good evening, sir. Thank you for accepting me as your entertainment.” She recited, just as she had been instructed.

Clinton nodded, trying to school his face. “She’ll do just fine.”

Dimitri nodded, shutting the door as he walked out of the room. Clinton and Y/N stared at each other, not knowing what to say to each other. After a moment, Y/N launched herself into his arms. She sobbed into his arms as he held her tightly to his chest.

He let her bury herself into his chest. “Shhh. I got you, love.” He whispered into her hair.

She pulled away to look at him. “I messed up, Clinton. I lied to you about my past and my relationship with the agency. I took a mission that I knew was going to go wrong.”

“Don’t think about it now. We’ve got to focus on getting you and other girls out of here.” He whispered darkly, shooting the door a hard look. “We’ve got a team surrounding the building and snipers on the surrounding buildings.”

Y/N took a deep breath, hardening herself. “You are right.” She brushed the tears away, “did you bring in any weapons?”

“Y/N, I don’t want you to get involved. You’ve been through enough, let me take care of you.” He looked at her with big eyes, wanting her to listen to him.

She sighed, knowing that she was not in any shape to take down these criminals. “Okay, we will do it your way.”

Clinton kissed her forehead. “It’s a go!” he whispered into his mic.

Clinton made sure to put himself between Y/N and the door. He knew that Dimitri was going to try and come after Y/N, having heard some henchman talking about how she was going to be their golden goose. He promised himself, after seeing her picture on that website, that would protect her with his last breath. He also promised not to tell her, because she would lecture him about how she can protect herself.

Within moments of the team storming the castle, Dimitri was throwing open the door- half expecting them to be in the middle of having sex. He froze as Clinton aimed his gun at his forehead. “Freeze.”

“You’re a cop!” He yelled, charging at them.

Clinton fired his weapon, only after aiming for Dimitri’s knee. Dimitri fell forward with a scream. “I told you to freeze.”

Kenny came in shortly after the gunshot, gun raised and ready. “Clinton, you guys okay?”

Clinton nodded, “Yeah, the idiot moved when I told him to freeze. I’m going to let you cuff him, while I take Y/N to the ambulance.”

Dimitri looked up, confused on who Y/N was. “Whose Y/N?”

She finally stepped from behind Clinton. “Me. My name is not Alyona.” She walked forward, trying not to show that she was scared. “You are not only going to be charged for crimes at a national level, but an international level also.”

Dimitri smeared at her, laughing under his breath. “You went from cop to whore. What an upgrade.”

Without thinking, Y/N slugged him. Clinton and Kenny jumped into action, and pulled them apart. “At least I won’t be someone’s bitch in prison.”

Clinton pulled her out of the room, not wanting to subject her to that creeps presents. “Come on, let’s get you to the hospital.”

Y/N just nodded, becoming increasingly more hollow the farther away they got from her room.

... At the hospital…

Y/N’s POV

Y/N numbly as the SANE nurses poked, prodded, and took photos of her. She didn’t make a sound, no matter how much they made her uncomfortable. They hadn’t allowed Clinton into the exam room as they weren’t married. When they asked her to lay on the table, Y/N closed her eyes tightly-- trying to not picture the numerous men that had taken advantage of her.

“This may feel a little bit uncomfortable, but we need to do a pelvic exam.” The nurse said, wanting to keep her clued into everything that was going on.

“I know.” She whispered, laying back and spreading her legs.

Everything goes black for the remainder of the exam, not that Y/N needed to pay too much attention. When she opened her eyes, Clinton was standing next to her-- talking with a doctor.

“... she is going to need a lot of therapy and patience. We are going to prescribe anti-depressant, anti-anxiety, and sleeping medications as she is going to have some trauma from what she experienced.” The doctor explained, not even bothering to look at her.

“You know, if you are going to talk about me, you better man up and look at me.” Y/N stated, hoarsely. “I will not be treated like I am less than human, because I am a sexual assault victim.”

Clinton squeezed her hand, wanting to bring her comfort. “Y/N, he is just trying to help you heal.”

She rolled her eyes, reverting back to silence. The doctor shared a look with Clinton, before stepping out of the room. “I know that you’ve been through a lot, but you don’t need to be snippy with the doctor.”

She glared at him. “He was acting cold, not caring about my feelings. I have feelings, Clinton. I am not just some piece of meat.” She cried.

Clinton pulled her into his arms. “I know, sweetie.” He rubbed her head. “You’ve been through something horrific, it is going to take some time to properly heal.”

She looked up at him with big eyes. “I don’t want to do this alone.” She whimpered.

“You won’t be alone, love. I promise.”

A/N: There will not be a part two. I don’t feel comfortable writing a 2nd part.

#requested #FBI Most Wanted #fbi most wanted imagine #imagines #one shots #sex trafficking #trigger warning #trauma #ptsd #gunshot #Clinton Skye #Clinton Skye imagines #sweetswriting

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