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mothman-can-write · 4 months

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hi !!! i saw u said you were open for prompts, i mean this is kinda less of a prompt really, but like i loved that blackhill mission transcript thing you did a while ago and would be really cool to see some more stuff in the same vein ig ! but also maybe something like a kinda blackhill first meeting kinda thing idk !! i just love your work tho ! you really have the ability to make me feel all the emotions

OOOOO i just thought of this whilst writing this but maybe something like with clint teasing nat ab having like feelings for maria or something ?? idk i just love ur writing ! sorry these are kinda shitty hahah

NGL I took this prompt and mangled it in my hands. I heard first meeting and my brain was immediately like well that could go seventeen thousand different ways, so I sorta mashed in Clint's teasing to go along with it and made it a little more suggestive than outright shippy. Realistically, I think if Natasha is only meeting Maria for the first time, she's probably still in a place where she's not totally open to such self indulgent things as having a crush

Also, this isn't a mission transcript but I'd love to do more of them that one was really fun! I just don't really have any good ideas for the sort of things they'd have to talk about in the field besides dying haha

ANYWAY enough rambling, though you're all familiar with my inability to shut up these days. ~3k under the cut of Clint being a ballache and nat being sceptical but gay

The only person that doesn’t treat Natasha like she’s a project – or a live wire – is Clint. He’d had his fair share of looking at her with those careful eyes, something behind them that made her teeth itch in her gums like some trained dog. He doesn’t do that so much anymore, not unless she’s in a particular state and doing a very bad job at hiding it. She likes him, she thinks. He might be one of the first people in her entire life that she can truly say she likes.

Naturally, she finds herself in his quarters more often than her own. She lays on his bed as he works on something probably explosive enough to kill them both if he sneezes, and she ignores the pip of her emails as she braids a small strip of hair under her ear. She’s bored, if she’s honest, but she doesn’t want to waste her first free morning of the past fortnight on something so trivial as emails. Or helping Clint.

“You not gonna answer her?” he says without looking up from his work. He holds it close to his face, something far too small in his tweezers.

Natasha’s fingers pause in untangling her braid. “How do you know who it is?”

He still doesn’t turn in his seat, matter of fact when he speaks. “You have a different tone for Hill.”

“How did you figure that out?” She tries not to scowl at him, but she still isn’t used to feeling so see-through. Quite frankly, she’d like to be as opaque as possible, but she seems to have grown rather attached to someone with x-ray vision.

Clint puts his miniature contraption down and turns to her at last. She’s not fond of the smile on his face as he leans over the back of his chair. “You’re not the only spy on the ship. Also, you weren’t trying very hard to hide it.”

“Her emails are usually more important,” Natasha argues, not quite sure why she feels the need to defend herself on it.

Clint grins ever wider. “I never asked why. I just thought you had a massive crush on her.”

Natasha scowls fully this time. “I’ve never met her.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know what’s in those emails.”

“Shut up.”

She reaches for her phone anyway and pointedly ignores the way Clint watches her. The email is much the same as they always are, telling her about meetings and progress and such. She’s overtly professional in every one, but now that she’s thinking about it, Natasha likes the words she uses – just slightly like she enjoyed reading dictionaries as a child. Very, very rarely, Maria will let something slip in her emails that is almost like humour, and Natasha doesn’t tell Clint that she actually does enjoy receiving emails from her just for the fact that she feels a little special when that happens. She’s heard the rumours; she knows not to expect giggles and grins when it comes to the Assistant Director.

In the end, she doesn’t bother to respond to the email anyway and Clint has already turned back to his work. “Not in the mood to sext her back?”

She scowls at the back of his head. “It sounds like Laura needs to watch her back.”

“Oh, god,” he laughs. “Gross. Absolutely not. Not my type.”

“What makes you think she’s mine?”

“You need someone to match your weirdness.”

Natasha wishes she had something to throw at him. She won’t admit that she intrigues her in small ways. She doubts she’s any different from every other CEO and government lead in the world, but some small part of her feels thankful to her faceless emails. She could’ve easily overridden Clint’s choice, could’ve had her put down before she could even think to beg for forgiveness. But she’d given her a chance, and she’d kept in contact despite her supposed overbooked schedule every day since. Maria held her life in her hands at one point, and she’d given her another shot at it.

Despite everything, Natasha still doesn’t sleep well. Or, rather, because of everything, she supposes. One good month doesn’t erase a lifetime of bad – and she’s really a little hesitant to say that this month has even been good in many senses of the word. She wonders if the nights will ever get easier on her with time, or if she’s stuck with these hours of restlessness and sweat for the rest of her life. It’s not a nice thing to think about, and it doesn’t really do all that much to distract her from the shadows that still play behind her eyelids or the way the shapes of the room still seem to swim around the edges. So, she swings her legs over the side of her bed and scrubs at her face with her hands. She can appreciate, at the very least, that she isn’t handcuffed to her bed here. Somehow, that had been a hard thing to get used to. She still sleeps with one arm by the headboard.

There aren't many things to do at this hour. Clint has told her countless times that she’s perfectly welcome to pester him at any time of the night if it would make her feel even minutely better. He says he understands, and she believes him enough from the way his past lines his own face, but it doesn’t make it any easier to put into practice.

She doesn’t have a plan as she steps out into the corridors. She dresses like she’s going to the gym on the off chance that she might be able to sneak into it and punch something until she’s sweaty for reasons more tangible. She wishes the firing range was usable at this hour, but she’s sure that’s much less subtle. Still, there are some nightmares you can only really feel better by shooting at. Maybe she’ll bat her eyelashes into an hour or so at the targets tomorrow.

She passes the odd agent as she trails around the corridors and considers that the ship never really sleeps entirely. There’s always someone on the night shift, always someone pottering around with something. She thinks it would be nice to work when it’s so quiet. Maybe she should ask about changing her hours. It might be a little soon.

The gym isn’t so far from her quarters, and by the time she reaches it her shirt still feels sticky at her back and her stomach still feels like it’s alive in her ribcage. Her hopes are low enough to limbo as she presses her hand to the door, and she could almost sigh with relief when the door opens easily. She’s not against breaking in, but she likes to think she’s been doing a pretty good job of building a better reputation lately. Maybe not socially, but Maria’s emails haven’t managed to sound short lately – not since the last time she’d bypassed what she maintains was a criminally simple encryption on one of Clint’s jobs.

The gym is utterly silent at this time of the morning, which is entirely unsurprising. She doubts anyone else sensible gets out of bed for another hour or two, let alone starts their training regime. Generally, agents are allowed the privilege of breakfast before they’re worked to the bone. Natasha’s never been a fan of food so early in the morning.

She doesn’t really know when she fell out of the habit of scanning each room on this ship like someone will be waiting to haul her out of it, and she blames it firmly on her lack of sleep and nightmare slurred thoughts when she doesn’t notice the other body in the gym until it’s too late.

“I did wonder,” someone says, and Natasha’s attention snaps to one of the benches on the far side, half covered from the entrance.

It takes Natasha an almost embarrassingly drawn out moment to place her features, and she’s sure she only half succeeds in hiding her surprise into an intrigued eyebrow. The Assistant Director didn’t really strike her as the type to be in the gym when everyone is supposed to be sleeping.

“Wonder what?” she asks instead of every other question that gnaws at her head. She stays firmly planted in the middle of the room.

“Who would come in at this time.”

Oh. She’s not wondering about Natasha. She doesn’t really know what that feels a mote disappointing. She hates it when Clint asks how she’s sleeping. Maybe she just doesn’t like lying to him.

“I thought it would be empty.”

Maria places her water bottle beside her on the bench and makes absolutely no move to stand up yet. Somehow, Natasha finds it unnerving, even if she’s taller here. “It usually is,” she says simply.

Her eyes bore into her in a way that makes the back of her neck crawl. Something about her says that she’s calculating, that she’s looking at Natasha and breaking her down into little bite sized pieces. Natasha has never liked being dissected. Maria’s eyes are very blue.

“Do you usually spend your mornings here?” she asks, if only to stop Maria from burning holes into her skull and reading her thoughts directly.

It works, in the way that her gaze flicks away for the briefest moment before pinning her again in that same cool tone. “I guess you could call this morning.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Maria’s eyes soften ever so slightly around the corners, and Natasha would almost call it a squint. “I’ve made a bit of a habit at this point, yes.”

She almost seems reluctant to admit it, and Natasha can’t help the way she wants to pick this woman apart. She has always liked puzzles, and people are just some of the more complex the world has to offer. She thinks she understands the rumours a little more now, even through this uncanny meeting. She wonders if Maria feels her own searching gaze as intently.

Maria stands at last, and Natasha had almost forgotten how tall she is. She thinks she preferred it when she was sitting. “Don’t let me stop you,” she says, and Natasha is silently thankful for the way that answers her question. Again, not that she wouldn’t break the rules. It’s just much harder to make an excuse when the Assistant Director is the one who catches you.

“I would’ve expected the AD to send me back to my quarters,” she notes, as forward as ever when it gets her information. She’ll admit this woman seems to be intriguing. She’s curious as to just why she’s indulging her so far.

Maria’s expressions are all very small, mere suggestions of emotions that only make Natasha want to pick her apart. “That would make me more of a hypocrite than I already am,” she says simply, almost smiling. “Are you getting on okay?” she asks instead , and her eyes are on her like she’s deciphering her again. She’s closer now, making direct eye contact, and Natasha holds it like a game. “Besides the obvious, of course.”

Natasha tries not to scowl. God, does she hate when people pretend like they know her. “What’s the obvious?”

Maria raises one eyebrow ever so slightly, her expression caught somewhere to amusement. “Did the Red Room have you in the routine of training at four in the morning?”

“Sometimes.” They both know that’s not the reason that she’s here, as much as Natasha wishes Maria didn’t.

Her eyes are almost soft. Almost like she truly cares about her. Natasha doesn’t like to let herself believe the sort of things that might cost her later. “Half of the people on this ship struggle with it, Romanoff,” she says, nearly gentle in the silence around them. “You don’t have to be ashamed of it.”

She can almost imagine her setting a heavy hand on her shoulder as she says it, though Maria remains in her own space. She’s still slightly too close for what Natasha is used to however, and it’s the first time she realises the darkness under her eyes. Her face is lined, something bone deep that she doubts ever goes away. It lends her a certain sort of…imperfection that makes her seem a whole lot more human. For everything she’s heard, though she knows to take gossip with a healthy grain of salt, she could almost imagine Hill to be some sort of robot, some living excel sheet.

Standing in front of her, she sort of just looks like a woman who could do with some sleep. She looks like a woman who has spent the last who-knows-how-many hours beating out her own past the same way Natasha intends to. She won’t call it affection. It doesn’t mean Natasha likes the way she looks straight through her any more.

“You have any tips?” she says, aiming for something playful. She really, really just wants her to stop looking at her like she can figure her out right here in the middle of the room. Maybe if she seems better than she is, she’ll leave her alone. She’d rather her conduct a genuine vivisection out on the boxing ring floor if she’s going to continue to examine her.

She’s certain Maria almost smiles at that, a tug at the corner of her lips that is almost sad, almost conspirational. She shrugs ever so slightly. “Shooting things usually helps.”

Natasha tries not to scowl like a child. As if she wouldn’t be there right now if she could get away with it. “I’m on supervised arms training.”

This time, Maria does smile, though Natasha thinks she’d have missed it if she blinked. “Not from tomorrow,” she says plainly, and Natasha can only watch her walk away without another word.

The door closes behind her, and Natasha lets herself furrow her eyebrows as deeply as she likes. She is overtly aware that she is not being let off of supervised training tomorrow. She’s aware that she has been seen as a weapon and an explosive since the moment Clint forgot that he was meant to shoot her. Somehow, she doesn’t think that Maria is one to tease.

It makes it very hard to punch things as effectively as she’d like to when she can only think after Maria. She wonders what keeps her up at night. She wonders what else she does to get rid of the shadows. She wonders why on earth she would let her off of the hook so early. For all they know, Natasha might decide to defect back. She might’ve been biding her time until she could get a hand on one of those guns outside of the range. She’d never even dream of it, of course. She’d rather be supervised for every split second a gun is in her hands for the rest of her life than have to go back to her life before. She wonders just how deep Maria managed to dig. She wonders if she really is all that transparent after all.

She finds herself in Clint’s quarters again as thoughtlessly as breathing. Every spare minute in her schedule that lines up with his, she’ll spend hiding from the rest of the world. This time, she’s sitting in his chair, her knees resting against the edge of his desk so that she can spin it slightly from side to side. Clint is behind her in his bunk, his arms tucked up behind his head and his eyes closed. It’s only 2pm. Natasha wishes she could have a nap too.

“Is she always like that?” she says on a whim, her thoughts still stuck on tired eyes and snap decisions.

“Like what?” Clint asks, completely brushing over her lack of context.

“So…intense.”

“Ah, we’re back on Hill. Yes.” He falls silent again, and Natasha listens to his breath. “Hold on.” His eyes open and his head turns on his pillow to face her. “Did you meet her? When?”

“This morning.”

“You were at the range this morning.”

“Before that.”

“You were asleep before that.” She doesn’t answer, and that tells him everything in as little effort as possible. “Natasha.”

She doesn’t meet his eye. “It’s better than moping.”

“You don’t need to mope. You can come wake me up.”

“But then you don’t sleep.”

“Tasha, do you really think I’m sleeping well either half the time?”

She stays silent again, staring intently at the dimples Clint’s chair has made in the carpet.

“How did you even find her?” he asks eventually, giving up the argument for the countless time. “She’s practically booked to the minute.”

“She was in the gym when I got there.”

“I’m going to skip over the fact that you’d rather punch something until you bleed than come and bug me. Was it worth it? Was she all sweaty and hot? Did you two finally canoodle in person?”

She doesn’t dignify his jokes with a response, her thoughts plain in her expression. “I don’t think she sleeps well either. She looked tired.”

Clint grins a little. “You paying attention to her face?”

Natasha scowls at him. “It’s normal to look someone in the eye.”

“Mhm…” He retucks his arms under his head, settling back against his pillow. “It’s for sure normal to think about them all morning.”

“She took me off of probation,” she says, almost in a rush, like maybe this will change the subject – maybe a little bit like she’s admitting something.

“Oh you definitely have a crush on her. It’s like she’s trying to get in your pants. Remind me never to read your emails.”

Natasha only squints at him, wishing once again that she had something appropriate to throw. The urge distracts her enough that she never does reject the notion. And when she finds herself imagining Maria’s secret little smile in those few and far casual emails, she decides that Clint doesn’t need to know. She’s not been given many chances in her life, and she thinks she could make space in her life for two instead of one. She wonders if Maria would ever want a gym buddy on long nights and promptly decides not to think any deeper into it.

#words #tumblr exclusive #prompts #blackhill #natasha romanoff #maria hill #clint barton

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sansaorgana · 2 years

Text

— THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER

GIFS: (x) // (x) // (x)

PAIRING — Darth Vader (and kinda Anakin Skywalker) x fem!Dark Jedi!Reader

SUMMARY — When the Grand Inquisitor finally finds Obi–Wan Kenobi, you are the first one to know. As the Deputy Commander of the Imperial Forces you pay your old Master a visit but you don’t want to fight him. Actually, Obi–Wan Kenobi might be your only hope to save your daughter from the Emperor.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Honestly, I usually don’t like angst but this idea has just been occupying my mind for way too long... I just had to finally write it down. Reader is not described in any way physically, I just found that gif of Jodie Comer to fit the vibe and honestly, it inspired me to start writing, therefore I decided to include it. Also, Reader and Vader are like... together but not really. No romance between them anymore surely.

WARNINGS — angst, mentions of getting pregnant with the help of the Force, Reader is not a good person, canon is changed a lot

WORD COUNT — 3,550

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER

When Darth Vader was about to enter his private quarters, he could sense someone else’s presence inside. He was more intrigued than angry – after all, he didn’t expect any average member of the crew to enter his private quarters. For that, they were too terrified of him.

The doors opened with a loud whoosh noise and he walked inside before taking a long breath.

“Darth Vader,” a familiar voice greeted him and he turned around to finally see the person through his lenses.

She was sitting on his throne so casually. Looked like a natural, he had to admit. Her legs were crossed and she had a faint smirk on her face because she had known perfectly well that she was teasing him by sitting there.

No matter how many years would pass, deep down inside she was still the same girl he had met all those years ago at the Jedi Temple.

“Deputy Commander (Y/L/N),” he greeted her, pretending that he wasn’t bothered by her occupying his throne.

Because why would he be, to be honest?

“I was visited by the Grand Inquisitor this morning,” she started. “Top secret information he had for me, I was the first one to find out and I promised to deliver the news to you personally. The Emperor doesn’t know yet.”

Darth Vader didn’t say anything, only let out another long and loud breath.

“We’ve found Kenobi,” she lowered her voice.

The remaining muscles of his face twitched at that but of course she couldn’t see that through the helmet.

“Where?”

“I’ve decided I will go,” she stood up from the throne to approach him.

“No. It must be me,” he shook his head. “Where?” He repeated the question.

“You haven’t fully recovered after the previous fight,” she reminded him of the week before. He had come back with his suit damaged, almost dead inside of it. “I will go,” she faced him and looked up to stare deep into the two black holes that were his lenses.

“Bring him to me alive,” he only said.

He couldn’t see her properly once the vision was disturbed but every time she stood so close, he could feel the pain, almost physical one. She was so beautiful despite getting older and she was a constant reminder of the life they could have had. But now, he couldn’t even touch her properly.

“I am the only person on this ship who isn’t here out of fear. And the only one who doesn’t secretly wish you to die. I’m the only one you can trust,” she whispered and placed her hand on his glove to squeeze his hand but it wasn’t his real hand. It was just a mechno–arm. For her, it was an illusion but for him it was nothing but another reminder that she was so close… yet so far away.

“If I don’t come back,” she smiled softly, “he’s on Tatooine.”

She gave him a few seconds to process that information but he didn’t answer, so she only nodded and left his quarters while putting the hood of her cape on her head.

When you landed your ship in the desert and got out of it while following the tracker, you couldn’t believe that you would actually meet Obi–Wan Kenobi. He was too powerful to be found so easily, you thought.

Unless… Unless he wanted to be found for some odd reason.

However, if he wanted to lure anyone, it would be Vader himself or the Grand Inquisitor. He would never expect you and you couldn’t blame him.

You were never being sent off to such missions. Vader was keeping you at one of his palaces or on the ships most of the time. You were surprised that he had allowed you to go on Tatooine so easily, without his usual rants about your safety.

But Kenobi was a job he wouldn’t trust anyone else with and Kenobi was the most important job for the both of you and it was kept a secret even from the Emperor himself.

The tracker started to beep more frequently and you furrowed your brows while looking around. You were in the middle of the desert, there was nothing there except for huge rocks. But when you pointed the tracker at them, it started to signalize that the target had been inside.

You turned the tracker off and climbed on the rocks, a little bit more clumsily than you would like to admit. Years of no actual experience in combat made you weaker, though.

You feared Obi–Wan but you hoped he would be as rusty as you were.

When you were finally at the top of the rocks, you noticed that there was actually an entrance leading inside. You took a deep breath in and activated your lightsaber to use it as a flashlight.

The red glow of your weapon brightened the dark path between the rocks. It was like a maze leading to the pitch black cave.

You froze and looked around. You could sense someone but you couldn’t see them until you heard the familiar sound of the activated lightsaber and the blue light appeared on the other side of the cave.

“Obi–Wan,” you greeted him.

“(Y/N),” he hummed. “I’ve been expecting him to come here personally.”

“I am not here to fight, Obi–Wan,” you turned your lightsaber off and took the hood off of your head.

He froze for a few seconds and contemplated all the possibilities. Of course you could had been lying to him. It could had been a trap. But looking into your eyes – the eyes of his old friend – made him turn off his lightsaber as well.

The darkness didn’t last for long, though. Kenobi moved one of the smaller rocks aside and the pleasant and warm sunlight was allowed to get inside. You chuckled at that “innovative” window of his “home”.

“Please, take a seat,” he offered you a wooden chair and you sat down on it, playing with your hands on your lap like a padawan being scolded by their Master.

“Why Tatooine, Obi–Wan?” you asked.

“To understand him better,” he admitted and sat next to you.

You could take a better look at his face. He still looked the same. Older and more tired but it was still your Obi–Wan. Your Master.

When he had presented Anakin Skywalker to the Jedi Council, they insisted that instead of teaching the boy, he should had taken you in as his padawan. In the end, they had allowed him to keep two apprentices. After all, he was a living legend. A man who had defeated a Sith before even becoming a Jedi Knight.

How ironic it was that he had raised people like you and Anakin.

“Sounds like you’re obsessed,” you smirked.

“Aren’t you two obssessed with me, too? The Inquisitors are looking for me all over the galaxy.”

“They’ve found you,” you pointed out. “Why? I know a man like you must want to be found in order to make it possible.”

“I’m getting older. I have no purpose anymore. I wanted the last meeting and he didn’t even come personally,” Obi–Wan sneered.

“So I don’t count, Master?” you teased. “You didn’t want to say goodbye to me?”

“You’re not like him, (Y/N). You’ve never been,” Kenobi sighed. “Why did you go with him?”

“I love Anakin…” your eyes widened at that question like the answer hadn’t been obvious.

“But he’s not. He’s not Anakin, is he?” Obi–Wan’s voice cracked. “Why did you join Darth Vader?”

You sighed and didn’t answer for a moment. Then, you decided to tell him the truth. He was your Master. Your friend, your brother, your father. He was your Obi–Wan.

And you were the prodigal daughter.

“Because the Jedi were right,” you said suddenly and Kenobi furrowed his brow, surprised. “Love is a stupid thing. An awful one and there is no cure for that.”

“I’m sorry…” was all he could say.

“I won’t leave him. I will always follow wherever he goes. We are no longer… lovers… but the bond is strong. We are partners. We are… We are one,” you sniffled your tears back.

“So that is why he’s sent you to kill me. It’s like he’s here himself,” Obi–Wan nodded with a sad ghost of a smile.

“No,” you shook your head. “We don’t want to kill you. Not anymore,” you swallowed thickly.

You knew that being force sensitive prevented the Emperor from getting inside your head but you still feared him nevertheless. What you were about to do was treason.

“Because of Shmi,” you whispered almost inaudibly.

“Shmi? Anakin’s mother?” Obi–Wan looked absolutely puzzled.

“Our daughter.”

Long and awkward silence occurred between you two. You looked down to focus on your own fingers while playing with them nervously.

“You have a daughter with… With him?” Kenobi swallowed thickly. “How? I’ve seen holograms of what he’s become.”

“When I joined Ana…” you stopped and closed your eyes for a moment to take a deep breath in. “Vader,” you fixed yourself. “When I joined Vader, the Emperor hated me. He didn’t want me by his side. He said I would only weaken his apprentice,” you wiped a few tears that had escaped your eyes. “He was trying to get rid of me… Kill me, I mean by that.”

“Kill you…?”

“He hoped that the grief would make Vader easier to control but when he witnessed his anger after I had almost died… He quickly realized that by keeping me alive, he can control him even better. I am kept a hostage, Obi–Wan. The most protected woman in the galaxy… for a reason. Vader does anything The Emperor wants because he doesn’t want me to be killed. Do you understand now?”

“I do,” Kenobi nodded, his voice filled with so much pain, sadness and sympathy for your situation that you reached your hand out and squeezed his.

You both felt the bolt of electricity going through your bodies after that. It had been ten years since you saw him for the last time and you both hadn’t touched many people since then. You assumed he was a hermit, meanwhile touching Darth Vader’s suit hardly counted as touching a human being.

The only person you had been really touching was your daughter.

“Anakin could defeat the Emperor,” you continued and looked deep into your Master’s eyes, “Vader cannot. The Emperor is disappointed in his apprentice. You’ve crippled him and he lost a great amount of power,” you gritted your teeth.

Everyone thought it was Vader that had wanted Obi–Wan’s death the most but it was not true. For many years you had wanted it just as much. You would never forgive him for what he had done to the man you once loved.

“So, now, Vader is no longer the apprentice Palpatine hoped for. The only person in the whole galaxy as powerful as Anakin used to be, would be his…”

“His child,” Obi–Wan’s eyes widened.

“Suddenly, the Emperor started to like me more. He found the purpose for me,” you snorted. “You see, Vader didn’t want that because he had known why Palpatine wanted us to have a child. He wants to raise the greatest and the most powerful Sith Lord that has ever existed. I became pregnant with the help of the Force.”

“The Force?” Obi–Wan asked to make sure. It wasn’t new to him, of course, he had known about Anakin’s mother after all.

“When two parents are force sensitive, it’s not that difficult. Not for a Sith Lord anyway,” you shrugged your arms. “Shmi is a normal child, just like any other. I named her after Anakin’s mother and… She is our highest priority, Obi–Wan. On the day she was born, I could sense Anakin again somewhere in that awful suit of Darth Vader. He doesn’t want Shmi to become the Emperor’s next apprentice but she’s growing older day by day… Now she’s always by our side, Palpatine allowed us to raise her. But soon, he’s going to take her away from us. And once she’s trained, he’s going to kill Vader and me because he won’t need us anymore,” you explained. “Obi–Wan, you said your life had no purpose. I want to give one to you,” you squeezed his hand harder.

“What purpose, (Y/N)? What do you want from me? How could I possibly help you?” he didn’t understand what role he would play in this messed-up scenario.

“Protect my daughter,” you swallowed thickly, waiting for his reaction but there was none except for pure confusion. “The Rebels are attacking us more boldly these days. Their main target is Vader. They’re attacking our ships but wherever he is, I am… and so is Shmi. If the attacks don’t stop, Palpatine will have an excuse to take her from us in order to protect her. That will be the last time I’ll see my daughter unless he’ll send her to kill us personally. But Obi–Wan… I am the one who trains her how to use a lightsaber and the Force like you were once teaching me. I spend every day with her, she’s all I have… And there is… There is no darkness in her heart, she’s so forthright and passionate… She’s so like Anakin,” you burst into tears and took your hand away to hide your face with it.

Kenobi stood up and approached you to caress your trembling shoulders before crouching down and holding your wrists in order to move them away and look deep into your eyes.

“I know you’ve loved Anakin. I know you’ve loved me. Can you love our daughter now?” you sniffled, begging him shamelessly like every mother would beg for her child.

“What can I do for her?”

“I know you have friends amongst the Rebels. Please, tell them not to hurt her. I know they have a lot of resentment in their heart. I know that Vader’s responsible for many children’s deaths so I don’t expect them to show mercy but they will listen to you, I know they will… And Obi–Wan, if something happens to us, promise me, you will take care of her…”

He hesitated with his answer, still looking at you and silently crying. It was painful for him to see and hear what a mess your life had been now. As the man who had once called himself your Master, he felt guilty for that.

“She’s more powerful than Anakin was,” you whispered. “I’ve never been a powerful Jedi but I am force sensitive. She’s a mix of us both, therefore she’s even more powerful than he was.”

“You were a great Jedi, (Y/N),” Obi–Wan’s voice cracked as he caressed your face to wipe the tears. “You were my girl, remember?” he reminded you and your lower lip trembled.

“If Shmi becomes a Sith Lord, it will be over. You can’t let Palpatine win,” you sobbed.

“I will contact my friends and inform them about a special child on every Vader’s ship,” Obi–Wan nodded his head and you put your arms around his neck to hug him, crying out of relief.

When you finally calmed yourself down and wiped away all of your tears, you stood up and fixed the robe nonchalantly.

“We don’t talk about it, of course, but as I’ve mentioned, Vader and I have a bond… I know what he’s secretly planning to do,” you looked at Kenobi, still crouching down by the chair. “What I’m saying is, overthrowing the Emperor is not an easy task. We can end up dead soon.”

“I will take care of your daughter. I promise you, I will find her and keep her away from him if something happens,” Kenobi stood up as well, his voice as sure and confident as ever.

“Thank you, Obi–Wan Kenobi. You are my only hope,” you whispered before turning around and disappearing once again in the dark tunnel to go back to your ship.

“Deputy Commander, I swear…” the Grand Inquisitor’s voice cracked as his eyes widened out of fear.

“Kenobi is not on Tatooine,” you pointed your finger at the man as other ship crew members watched the scene, terrified. “You should be grateful it was me going there and not Darth Vader himself, you incompetent imbecile. How could a man like you get such a responsible position when you can’t even check the information you have been given by some cheap informants?! And you dare to come to the Deputy Commander of the Imperial Forces, hoping for what? A medal?! Next time you feel like impressing me, you better do your job properly!” you finished as your eyes filled with rage.

“I… I… I promise it won’t happen again, Deputy Commander. I will find Kenobi, I…”

“No,” you cut him off. “Do not waste your time on looking for him anymore. The chase after that old man is gone. I am sick of Kenobi and so is Darth Vader. Soon, Grand Inquisitor, your job will no longer be needed. We’ll see how you’re going to handle that,” you smirked and crossed your arms. “Now, I want you to leave my presence.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded his head and left the deck as fast as possible.

“What is going on here?” the robotic voice interrupted you all. Everyone turned around to face the tall figure in a black suit. “Deputy Commander?”

“Kenobi is not on Tatooine. I have just disciplined the Grand Inquisitor for repeating incorrect information to me, Darth Vader,” you straightened your posture and approached him.

He nodded at that as all the ship crew members went back to their duties, trying their hardest to stay as invisible as possible.

“Deputy Commander,” one of the droids walked up to you. “Miss Shmi is about to finish her training.”

“Thank you,” you nodded at him. “Come with me,” you mouthed out to Vader’s face before turning around to enter the elevator.

Darth Vader followed you in silence as you patiently waited for the door to close.

“He said he would protect her,” you whispered once you were alone.

“Do you trust him?” he let out a robotic question and a loud breath before a short silence occurred.

“He’s the only one we can trust in the whole galaxy. He’s the only one out there who still loves us a bit,” you answered and that was when the door opened and you found yourself in your private quarters.

Shmi was running around after a Marksman-H training remote with her blue lightsaber and a training helmet on. She was giggling and jumping around the room, blocking every single blast.

You watched her for a while until she eventually let out a scream and twisted the lightsaber behind her back a few times before cutting the remote in half.

After that, she turned her weapon off and got rid of her helmet, visibly proud of herself.

“Mom! Dad!” she yelled at the sight of you and ran into your arms. “Have you seen what I did?!” she asked, making puppy eyes.

“That was incredible, sweetheart,” you cracked a smile and caressed her hair.

“Daddy, one day I’m going to be as good as you are!” she gave Vader a wide smile, showing off her teeth with a few of them recently missing.

Your heart squeezed in your chest.

When you had told him that you were the only person on this ship who was not scared of him, you lied. Sometimes you were. It was hard not to be when you couldn’t even read the expression on his face or look into his eyes, especially when he was angry.

The only person who truly wasn’t scared of Darth Vader even a little bit was his daughter. For her, his unusual look was completely normal because she had never known any other.

“Good job,” he said and for a brief moment, instead of hearing a cold, robotic sound, you heard Anakin’s voice.

You saw Anakin, in fact. You saw his face and the scar on it, his hair and his hand being placed on Shmi’s shoulder as she giggled. It was nothing but a short vision but it broke your heart. Each vision like that was breaking your heart more and more.

You were sure there had been nothing left inside your chest but then another vision would come and break you even more. It was an endless cycle.

Shmi ran away to change her clothes before dinner and you looked at Vader. He froze and hadn’t moved a bit from the moment she touched him. After sensing your gaze on him, though, he eventually turned his head around. You faced his black helmet and the emptiness of his lenses.

If only you two had left the Jedi Order to live on some nice planet together and raise your children like you had proposed back then…

But what was the point of considering what–ifs?

Your reality was the man in front of you… That creature.

Those short visions where you could see Anakin in him again, they were heart-wrenching. You would spend yet another night reliving this moment a hundred times.

“A-Anakin…” you whispered and ran after Shmi, wiping your tears away and leaving him alone in an empty training room.

MASTERLIST

#lilysfiction #anakin skywalker x reader #darth vader x reader

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ntyfool · 1 year

Text

The one, Neteyam.

Neteyam Sully x Gn!Omatikaya!Reader. part2.

Left unspoken. Angst. Kinda open ending? SFW.

Summary: You could never tell him, and you didn’t.

hi guys! this is the second oneshot i write and actually post ever and i’m really nervous about it, english is not my first language and i’m not experienced so please be patient with me. i hope you enjoy this and really recommend listening to The 1 or August by Taylor Swift while reading (there are lyrics of both songs included). comments and constructive criticism are always welcomed, thank you! <3

Neteyam Sully was your secret. You can’t really tell when your feelings started, having known the oldest Sully since childhood, the two of you never got too close, keeping a safe distance, leaning on rare moments alone and exchanges of looks that you hoped to carry some meaning.

Your courage was never enough for you to express what you felt, Neteyam carried multiple obligations as a future leader, one of them being choosing a partner that would be the next Tsa’hik, something that, in your opinion, several clan members could do better than you.

So you buried the words you most wanted to say and promised that one day this love would be gone. It didn’t, but it was just yours, and as selfish as it seemed, it was enough.

Neteyam was sitting while you patched up his wounds, his eyebrows furred, seeming lost in though. This would usually be a moment where you two shared a comfortable silence, but something seemed wrong. He arrived much later than usual and didn’t say anything since.

“What is bothering you?” He looked at you for the first time, eyes full of an emotion you couldn’t quite read.

“It is nothing.”

“Please, I know there is something. You can talk to me.”

But how could he? The truth is that Neteyam had just came out a conversation with his parents, receiving the news that he was now promised to another woman, the best hunter in the clan. It was excepted to him to be already mated, and since people were growing impatient it seemed the best solution. He felt his stomach drop, his face loosing color, but couldn’t say anything. Getting out of there as fast as possible and running to you.

Neteyam adored you. No, he loved you dearly. You were the one person he felt most comfortable with, the one he knew that would accept him for who he is and that didn’t expect him to meet any impossible and tiring standards. Every memory you shared meant everything to him. He collected your interactions and details as treasures, always trying to memorize your likings, fears, dreams, looking for you in every room he entered and hoping to one day verbalize a feeling that made his chest feel like it was going to explode. Waiting for the right moment made him loose his chance, and now he would never know if you felt the same. His eyes watered, avoiding your gaze, feeling your soft hands now resting in his shoulders.

“I am promised.” He let out as a whisper, somehow hoping that you wouldn’t hear.

Your ears turned, tail switching nervously. Focusing now on finishing the bandages and trying to seem indifferent.

“It is decided?”

“Yes. Both families agreed. I was informed today and don’t know what to do.”

“Have they set a date yet?”

“Next month.”

Your breath hitched, hands now trembling nervously and vision blurred by tears you tried to avoid. The air thick with all the unspoken feelings that both didn’t dare to expose.

“I see. I-” You opened and closed your mouth, not knowing what to say, instead focusing in finishing everything quickly and quietly, not talking at all. Then mumbled “I have to go, we can talk later.” as you ran out. Leaving a heartbroken and confused Neteyam.

A few days have now passed since your last meeting. You were avoiding Neteyam but trying to be discreet about it, giving him quick greetings and fake smiles. Waking up was painful and everything felt like a blur in your mind. How could you miss something, someone, that was never yours? He wasn’t yours to lose.

Maybe you should go back, maybe you should scream your lungs out and tell the world how you have always wanted him. But you couldn’t, you shouldn’t. Neteyam gave his life trying to be the perfect son, the perfect leader, and he would be. You weren’t going to take this away from him.

You looked blankly at the sky while preparing to do your chores. Taking a deep breath and trying to accept what happened. Knowing the kind, caring and responsible boy you once had with you is now out of reach.

If you only knew that Neteyam Sully wasn’t sleeping or eating either, wondering if he could be selfish for once. Fighting the urge of storming into your tent and pouring his heart out. Knowing that he would prefer a life alone than one with someone that wasn’t you. Feeling ready to go against everything he taught himself, to maybe disappoint everyone and fight for his happiness, to be brave. However, you wouldn’t even look at his face anymore, completely distancing yourself, did you finally grew tired of him? Perhaps these were feelings he was destined to bear alone, cursed to always love you from a distance. And maybe if one thing had been different, then everything would be different today.

“But it would've been fun,

If you would've been the one.”

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully #avatar the way of water #angst

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calamity-unlocked · 1 year

Text

Hey @sashimi-buttons a very late, very happy birthday!! 💕 As you probably expected I wrote you some nark, because I'm me and you're you, hehe. Love you!

Hey Lark.

Both of us are at the HQ right now. You’re sitting in front of me, reading a book Grant recommended to you, something about lost cats and runaway kids. Every ten minutes, you look up at me and give me another reason why you think it’s absolute trash. But you’re still reading it, so I guess it can’t be all that bad.

Me? I’m on my phone, typing this stupid letter in my Notes app because Terry said putting my thoughts into words could help me make sense of them. He’s beginning to sound like his mom, if you ask me.

I gave it the good old college try though, and so far it’s been kinda nice. Wrote some stuff to my mom, to Jodie, to Glenn. I’m never going to send those letters to any of them of course. Whatever bullshit I’m putting down right now isn’t meant for your eyes either, so uh, if you are reading this, please stop and let me live with whatever remnants of my dignity you deign to leave me.

Right. Thoughts. Feelings.

I blanked for a full three minutes, and during that time you put the book down and told me the metaphors used are so ridiculous you wouldn’t be surprised if Douglas Adams had risen from the grave to literally ghostwrite it. (Which I think you meant as an insult? Even though you used to love Hitchhiker’s.) Then you immediately turned the next page.

I need to stop staring at you and finish this letter.

Lark, I feel alive when I’m with you. When we’re going 80 in a 65 on your bike and I hold on to your hips and the white lines on the road are a continuous blur, that’s when the world makes the most sense to me. You make my heart beat so fast I can’t even hear myself breathing. You do that, not the speed with which our joyride takes us from nowhere to nowhere, not the rush of adrenaline that unrestrained freedom brings. You.

I guess that’s love? I think that’s love.

I don’t know. I’ve never had a relationship that worked out. There are parts of me I can’t give away, doors I can’t open.

The only thing I know for certain is that I wish I’d never have to let you go. I would drive through a thousand nowheres, would keep singing along to every terrible song on the radio, would do just about anything if it meant being able to keep you next to me.

There are days when I think I’d follow you to the end of the world, but then I realize we might actually have to go there one day. I’m not proud to admit, that’s when fear creeps in a little bit. Y’know how it is. ��I got soul but I’m not a soldier’.

(that’s the Killers)

(you probably already knew that)

Growing up I had so many asthma attacks it was a wonder they even let me join Westrock FC. You remember when I gave you that straw, back when we were kids and everyone still used plastic straws? I told you to try to breathe through it for five minutes. You didn’t have the patience for that, but you made it to fifty seconds and got the gist of what it felt like to have your own airways betray you.

Though I have memories of smoking, this body has never tasted a cigarette or joint. I’m too scared it will cause me to start wheezing again, spots dancing at the edge of my vision, chest burning like it’s got its own hell inside it.

And yet I crave them. It’s still a test of willpower, sometimes. I know how good they could make me feel. I know that it’s so damningly easy, to just light a spark and press my lips to the tip and let myself enjoy the sensation. I could probably close my eyes and pretend that just because this was the natural conclusion of my desires, giving in wouldn’t mean I'm weak.

But let’s face it. It’ll only be bad for me in the long run.

Hah. And you think your book has bad metaphors.

Loving you feels like choking. God, how I love you.

And I think it’s okay that you’ll never know. Ignorance is bliss, and all that. You seem– not happy, but at least content right now, and I’d never want to ruin that.

I think there are two things a person needs if they want to love and be loved. They have to know who they are, and they have to accept who they are.

I don’t got that first part down, and you aren’t exactly a master at that second part. So I’ll keep abstaining.

My chest won’t stop burning, but that’s okay.

It has to be okay.

~Nick

#hope you like it luv <3 #dndads #dungeons and daddies #nark #nark nation #nick close #lark oak #calamity's writing #the book lark is reading is kafka on the shore btw #and lark is just being a dick its an amazing book

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duckymcdoorknob · 2 years

Note

Um hello I’m kinda new here… I found your emergency requests on someone else’s blog and I really need one right now. My mom wont stop making comments on my body. It makes me feel really bad about myself all the time. Can you please write Takemichi, Chifuyu and Mikey comforting an s/o with body image issues? Thank you if you do write this!! If not, or if it’s too much, please just trash this!

Of course my dear.

Thank you for trusting me with this. I know ALL about this one.

(Brb manifesting Mikey’s)

Please don’t hesitate to come in my dms if you need any help at all.

CW UNDER THE CUT: mentions of bodyshaming.

𝑇𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑐ℎ𝑖 𝐻𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑘𝑖

Takemichi is the world’s best boyfriend, at least in your opinion.

Some days he’s aloof and snarky, but others he’s sweet and kind as can be.

Luckily for you, the day that you needed him most, he was himself.

Your mother had just made another comment on your figure, and you couldn’t take the harassment anymore.

Changing into a large hoodie and sweatpants, you left your home in an instant. As you ran anywhere but back where you came, your field of vision was blurred by tears.

You settled by the riverbank, huddling your knees close to you while you sobbed. You wished wholeheartedly that you were different, that your mom was different, that your life was different…

To your horror, you heard a familiar chiming voice yelling anguishedly behind you.

“Mikey! Stop wiggling so much! You’re gonna fall off the bike!”

“Let’s go to the riverbank, Takemitchy!” The other voice chimed in response.

Your eyes widened as you furiously wiped them with your sleeves. You tried desperately to hide your sniffles, taking a few deep breaths.

“Wait, someone else is here.” Your boyfriend’s voice said with gentleness, “Mikey, Draken, I think they’re crying!”

You began to cry harder as footsteps came toward you. The last thing you needed was for your boyfriend to see you in the state you were.

“Hey! Are you okay, what’s your name?” He gently touched your shoulder.

You immediately flinched away, choking out a “please don’t touch me.”

Your lover immediately recognized your voice. “Wait, (Y/N)?”

“Takemichi please just go…” you mumbled as you hiccuped.

Takemichi instantly took his hand away. “Sweetheart what’s happening? Who did this to you?” His tone was much darker. He sounded ready to kill.

“No, no. Takemichi I’m not hurt please just… just drop it.” You averted your gaze as you sunk inside the oversized clothing.

“I can’t drop it when you’re feeling like this.” The blonde replied, scooting closer to you.

“It’s just me being stupid. I’ll get over it I swe-“

“Yo, Takemitchy. Mikey’s waiting.” Draken’s annoyed voice suddenly sounded.

Your lover looked at you, at the bike where Mikey sat watching a butterfly flutter about, then finally at Draken.

“Takemichi I’m okay.” You reassured him.

“Mikey’s gonna have to wait, this is much more important than a bike ride.”

“Takemichi!” You hissed, yanking your hood down, “Why would you say that? I told you I’m fine, go be with your friends!”

“(Y/N) they understand.” Your lover tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with a smile, “So please… tell me what’s bothering you.”

Your lip wobbled as you pulled the hood back up . “Do you really love me?” You asked in a mousy voice.

“With all of my heart.” He grabbed your hand and kissed it.

“Even though I look like this?”

“(Y/N) what do you mean?”

“Even though my body looks like it does? Even though I’m not the perfect partner that you actually deserve?”

“(Y/N) (L/N). Look at me,” Takemichi commanded, tilting your chin upward with two fingers. “I didn’t fall in love with you for your body. I’m not in this for sex, or your body alone. I am in love with you.”

“I’m in love with the person who always texts me to make sure I get home every single night, who sings to me when I get scared, who always makes me a little snack before I go to meetings.” He ended his last statement with a chuckle.

“What I’m trying to say is that you never have to worry about me leaving you. So please don’t cry, and please don’t ever think that you aren’t enough just because someone doesn’t like the way you look. Because if it’s any consolation, I sure as hell think you look incredible.”

You wrapped your arms around your lover’s neck and hugged him tightly. He reciprocated, chastely kissing the crown of your head.

“How touching. Can we go get ramen like you promised?” Mikey called from the bike.

You whined “Aw man they heard all of that?”

“Doesn’t matter. The only person who should care about what you look like is yourself. And I hope that the way you care is by living your life the way you want to live.”

Takemichi stood to his feet, offering you a hand. “Now then. Does my darling partner want to join me and my friends for some ramen? We can share a bike.” You nodded while smiling.

“Who said that I would pedal Mikey?” Draken growled in a low voice.

“Well I’m sure as hell not trusting my partner on the back of your bike.” Takemichi replied, draping an arm around your shoulder.

𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑦𝑢 𝑀𝑎𝑡𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑜

Ever since Chifuyu had been beaten by Baji, you avoided telling him anything.

You just didn’t want to burden your lover with anything when he already had so much going on.

So the day that your mom’s comments put you over the edge, you didn’t know who to talk to.

You put on your baggiest clothing and retreated to the playground near the school.

As tears leaked out of your eyes you desperately tried to wipe them.

You closed your eyes to try and level yourself, but the sobs just wouldn’t stop. You hated the body you had and you desperately wished you had a different life.

The sound of chains creaking next to you alerted you. You gasped as your eyes widened in shock.”

“Hey, calm down love; It’s just me.”

You sighed in relief as you heard the familiar voice. After registering who it was, you hung your head low and averted your gaze. “How’d you know I was here?”

“I got a text from Mitsuya. He said he saw you crying and you were walking toward school. I figured you’d come here.” Chifuyu noted, kicking his legs a little bit on the swing.

“Great intuition.” You mumbled, “But it’s okay. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“That’s the biggest load of bull I’ve ever heard.”

“Chif-“

“No don’t try to lie to me.” He demanded, “How am I supposed to leave my partner alone knowing that they’re in pain?”

“It’s really nothing to pitch a fit about.” You replied sheepishly.

“If it’s nothing, then why are you crying so much?”

Chifuyu stood from the swing and knelt down in front of you. He took both of your hands in his own and stared into your teary eyes.

You tried to rip your hands out of his grasp, “Chifuyu stop. Don’t touch me please.”

With pain in his eyes, your lover released your hands and watched you curl in on yourself.

“(Y/N) I’m begging you. Please tell me what happened.” You heard the fragility of his voice and couldn’t help the guilt.

“You don’t deserve to have to touch me. Why are you even with me? When I look like this above all else…”

Your boyfriend stared at you with his beautiful cerulean eyes. “(Y/N) will you look at me?”

Your teary gaze finally met his. “What?”

“You” he began, “Are my favorite person in the world.”

“Chifuyu-“

“And I love you for you. I don’t love you only for your body, and I’m not in this for sex. While I do find you absolutely stunning, your body isn’t the reason why I fell in love with you.”

“I fell in love with someone who makes me laugh until I snort, which I didn’t even know I could do by the way! I fell for someone who helps me with my English homework, because God only knows I’m awful at it. I fell for the person who’s never against getting a gas station slushy with me, especially every Friday at two in the morning.”

“What I’m trying to say is, I love you. I love you to absolute pieces. I don’t care what you look like and I never will. I think you’re easily the most gorgeous person on this planet, like genuinely.”

“I love you too Chifuyu, thank you.” You got off the swing and immediately slumped down into his embrace.

Your lover held you for a few moments, rubbing his thumb in between your shoulders and kissing your forehead occasionally.

“Hey Chi’?”

“Mm?”

“Speaking of two am slushies…”

“Oh hell yeah. Don’t even finish that sentence.”

You giggled as you both got to your feet. Chifuyu took your hand and you both rushed to the nearest gas station for your weekly treat.

𝑀𝑎𝑛𝑗𝑖𝑟𝑜 (𝑀𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑦) 𝑆𝑎𝑛𝑜

With a boyfriend like Mikey, you were constantly worried about whether he liked you or not.

He always had people fawning over him, so you never felt truly reassured, no matter how many times he did so.

So when your mom had made her usual comments, you were hesitant to reach out to Mikey.

You had changed into your baggiest tee shirt to hide your figure and rushed away from your home.

You sat on the sand of the beach in the dead of night, the crashing waves mixing with your sobs.

You had nothing to protect you from the harsh breeze that froze you to the core.

Suddenly, a gasp rang through the air. Your eyes widened as you prayed that no one noticed you.

Within a few seconds, a fluffy article was draped across your shoulders.

“Sweetheart what are you doing out here in the cold?!” It was Mikey. He was holding your shoulders gently as he sat down next to you. “Takemitchy told me he saw you were crying and headed this way… I wish you would’ve told me.”

“Mikey please don’t!” you cried out as you wiggled away from him, “Please don’t touch me.”

Your lover recoiled immediately, eyebrows upturned and lip quivering. “Who hurt you?” He whispered.

“What?”

“Who did this to you…?” His voice broke as he tried to fight his own tears, “Because I swear to God I’ll kill whoever the hell made you afraid of being touched.”

“What- Mikey no! I just…” you turned your head and listened to the crashing waves against the shoreline.

“Please (Y/N)…” he murmured.

“Do you still love me?” You asked as a tear rolled down your cheek, “Like genuinely?”

“Of course I do, sunshine. I’ll never stop.”

“You love me even though I look like this? Even though my body is just-“

“Stop right there.” Mikey demanded, “Will you please let me touch you? I won’t hurt you I promise.”

“I… I guess.”

Mikey began by gently grabbing your hands. “I love your hands.” He stated, “They’re soft, gentle and always know just how to patch me up when I get hurt really bad.”

He traced your arms with his fingertips, “I think I love your arms the most. They hold me tight whenever I really need to feel loved. They also hug my friends to help them feel loved too.”

He moved down to your stomach, “I love your stomach because it always tell us when we should get a treat. It’s never ever wrong, since every time is treat time.“

He placed a hand on your thigh, “I love your legs. They take us to such incredible places and keep us moving whenever times get tough. They look amazing in long pants and shorts, hell they look amazing in everything.”

Finally, Mikey moved to cup your cheek, “I love your face. It’s so beautiful and makes the best expressions when you’re happy. It has the most beautiful eyes, cutest nose, and softest lips.”

Mikey pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, wiping your tears with his thumbs. “I love you, and every part of you. I don’t want to date you only because I want to have sex or whatever you may be thinking. I want to date you because you make me feel happy no matter what.”

You choked on a sob as your lover pulled you into an embrace. “I love you too, Mikey.”

Mikey held you wordlessly as he rocked you back and forth. The two of you listened to the peaceful sound of waves crashing along the shoreline.

When your sniffles subsided, Mikey asked you in a tiny voice, “Say (Y/N), does your stomach say it’s time for dorayaki? Mine surely does.”

You giggled and nodded, “Mine does too.”

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

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banannabethchase · 10 months

Text

Better Vibrations - also on AO3

Matt thinks Adam and Yuta should have to wear vibrators during a match, too. Luckily Blood and Guts is right around the corner. A sequel to "Good Vibrations."

*sighs* Look I didn't ask for this. Similar disclaimers as the previous one. Actually, no. I'm copy/pasting. I cannot stress enough how much of a bad idea it is to do ANY OF WHAT'S IN THIS FIC in real life. Don't accidentally involve your friends in your sex stuff without them knowing. Don't - don't use vibrators when you're doing something for work. I just. I can't stress enough that this is a work of chaotic fiction that should NOT BE TAKEN AS REALITY and should never be replicated. This is another written retelling of the match, but instead from the perspectives of Adam and Wheeler during Blood and Guts. Without further ado, here we go. I'm ending up on a list for this fic, that's for damned sure.

Adam

“Matt. Seriously.”

“What?!” Matt asks, throwing his arms in the air. He looks bitchy and pouty and annoyed, and all Adam wants to do is throw him on the floor and fuck him into bliss. “You and Yuta made me and Mox do it. You should do it, too.”

Adam fights a smile. “Baby, if you want to use more toys, just ask me.”

“I – okay, yes, obviously, but I also think it’s fair for you and Yuta to have to do it during Blood and Guts.” Adam watches Matt squirm. “Shut up. But it’s fair.”

“You can’t make people wear vibrators during Blood and Guts, Matty,” Adam says. “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”

“I wouldn’t make anybody do anything.” Matt’s pout gets even more ridiculous. “I’m just saying it would be fair.” There’s a hint of a smile behind a pout, something Adam recognizes.

Adam laughs and sits next to him. “You think it would be fun?”

Matt nods and turns the eyes back on Adam. “I’m a mess all the time, you know? It would be fun to see you and Yuta get all…” He trails off and does some weird gesture with his hands. “You know.”

Adam can’t fight his smile. “What if it doesn’t affect us?”

Matt scoffs. “Of course it’ll affect you. Tops never know what to do with themselves when they’re not in control.”

“Rude.”

“True,” Matt fires back. He grins. “If you don’t want to, I’m not going to push. But I figure we could bring it up, and…” He trails off, and aims huge boo-boo eyes at Adam.

“Oh,” Adam says. “I get it. You want to get fucked by Yuta again.”

“Not necessarily!” Matt says. Adam doesn’t break his stare. “But yes.”

Adam pulls him in and kisses Matt softly. “You’re doing so much better with asking for what you want, baby,” Adam murmurs against Matt’s lips. “Good job.”

Matt makes a sweet little satisfied hum as he snuggles into Adam’s chest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Adam yanks him in close. They fall back on the bed, and Matt rolls on top of Adam. “Hi there.”

“Hi,” Matt says. He shifts, legs bracketing Adam’s hips. “So, we don’t have to be at the airport until, like, two o’ clock, right?”

Adam grins. “Jesus, you’re shameless.”

“Am not!” Matt says, face turning pink. “Just. We started talking about the match, and the vibrators, and then I remembered what happened after Anarchy.” He grinds down slowly, deliberately, and Adam’s vision goes a little blurry as he gets obscenely hard obscenely fast. “Kinda hot, right?”

Adam exhales slowly, trying to keep from grabbing Matt and fucking him into oblivion too quickly. He needs to let Matt talk it out, make him ask for what he wants. “Very hot.”

“Can – will you fuck me?” Matt asks. “And talk to me about that last time?”

“You want a play by play or the highlights?” Adam asks, settling his hands on Matt’s hips. “You want me to remind you how good you looked underneath Wheeler, or how good Mox felt around me?”

“No!” Matt says, the pout back in full force even as he reaches down to palm at his own cock. “Talk about –” He cuts himself off with a bite of his lip.

“Say it,” Adam tells him, sliding his hands up the front of Matt’s shirt. “You want me to talk about what you got to do that night, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” Matt says, eyelashes fluttering closed. “Yeah, tell me how I looked.”

Adam laughs and turns them over again, and revels in how lucky he is to be back here.

Wheeler

“Mox, come look at this.”

Wheeler wiggles his phone as he stretches out on the gym mat, holding it up. Mox walks over from where he was mid-squats. “What am I looking at?”

“Hangman texted me,” he says. “Look.”

Mox’s face is as confused as he reads it as Wheeler predicts his own was a second ago. “The fuck does he mean by ‘Matt is probably going to text you and I need you to be realistic about your response’ mean?” He stares at Wheeler. “Do these fuckin’ Elite idiots ever speak like normal people?”

“Doubt it,” Wheeler says, going back to his crunches. “Keep an eye out for a text from Matt, I guess. Maybe something about a stipulation?”

Mox barks out a laugh, clearly avoiding his burpee regimen Bryan’s trying to force him to do. “What, like we gotta do the match with cock rings next time?” He pauses. “Wait, that could be fun.”

“If you don’t do your burpees, Bryan’s gonna kill you,” Wheeler muses, flipping over to start his planks. Mox walks over and sits on his back, because he’s an asshole. “Hey!”

“What?” Mox asks. “Do I have to tell Bryan you can’t handle his special planks anymore?”

Wheeler rolls his eyes and makes sure he keeps perfect posture. “No. But no cock rings. That seems counterintuitive. We were trying to make each other have awkward sexual reactions, not prevent them.”

“That implies I don’t usually get boners during matches,” Mox muses. Wheeler can feel the moment he pulls both legs off the floor, and grunts. “Make noises like that and I might pop one right now.”

“I might pop you,” Wheeler growls. He pushes over and flips Mox off of him, then pins him to the floor. Knees on his thighs, hands on his wrists.

Mox licks his lips and grins up at him. “Promise?”

“Are you ever not horny?”

Mox considers it. “Probably when I’m asleep, sometimes.”

“I’ve woken up to your morning wood, so I doubt it,” Wheeler says. He glances around to make sure the rest of the gym is empty and leans down, kissing some of the stupid out of Mox. He thinks they could have been there all morning until his phone buzzes next to Mox’s head, and he’s too curious about what it’ll say to resist.

[9:43am]

Hi! This is Matt Jackson. Adam and I were talking and I was thinking that for Blood and Guts you and Adam could wear vibrators this time. Let me know!

Wheeler blinks a few times at the text. “Mox, I think Matt Jackson might be weirder than you.”

“I could see it. Why?”

Wheler flips the phone so Mox can see it, and watches as a grin spreads across Mox’s face. “Oh, that’s good. That’s really good.” He bats away the phone. “You’re doing it.”

“What?!”

“Come on, I did it!” Mox says. “And this is a chance to prove you’re better than Hangman or something.”

Wheeler rolls his eyes. “That’s not what this is.”

“It’s what it could be.” Mox looks up at him. “I think it could be fun!”

“Are you trying to do boo boo eyes?”

“No!” Mox says.

“You’re a shit liar.” Wheeler laughs as he rolls off of Mox. “Alright. I’ll do it. It’s stupid, but I’ll do it.”

Mox grins. “Oh, hell yes. You’re gonna be so miserable.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.” Mox does a few burpees. “Now we’ll be able to figure out which of the four of us could put up with more.”

Wheeler snickers. “You know you lost to Matt last time, right?”

“I didn’t!”

“You totally did.” Wheeler pats his cheek. “But it’s okay. You’re old.”

“He’s older than me!”

Wheeler blinks. “Well shit.”

Adam

“Okay, so we should be getting the packages – shut up, Moxley, that is not what I meant – tomorrow around eight in the morning,” Matt says over facetime. He and Adam have been in Boston exploring for an hour or two at this time, but Adam insisted they face time with Mox and Wheeler for their answer. Adam was actually kind of surprised Wheeler agreed.

“Sure, yeah,” Mox says, waving his hand. “Put it outside our hotel room.”

“Might be better just to drop it off hand to hand,” Adam mentions. “That way nobody else finds it and asks questions.”

“I still think we should have used the other ones,” Mox says. He’s upside down. Adam doesn’t feel like he has the bandwidth to ask why. “Sanitizing is a thing.”

“That one is mine and I’m keeping it,” Matt says. “But, yeah. We’ll give it to the two of you tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, we will,” Adam says.

Matt pokes him in the ribs. “No! No sex jokes. Not yet.”

“No sex jokes about vibrators?” Mox asks. “Jackson, what is wrong with you?”

Matt shrugs. “Oh, we’re losing service. Notoriously bad in Boston. You know-it-erp okay buy!”

Adam stares at him as the aquarium line moves up. “Did you just fake the connection failing?”

“You can’t prove anything.”

Wheeler

“You’re gonna be fine,” Mox says. He pulls Wheeler in and kisses the top of his head, ruffling his hair. “No, you’re gonna kill it. Hell, kill them, I don’t care.”

Wheeler laughs. “I feel like that would lead to a lot of questions I don’t feel like answering.”

“What, why one of ‘em got a little frisky friend in their…pocket?” Mox winks and blows a bubble, snapping his gum.

“That maybe be your weirdest sentence yet,” Wheeler mutters, but he wiggles a little bit. Every once in a while, even when off, the vibrator slides up against that one spot and sends a distracting zing up his spine. “How the hell did you and Matt handle this when you did it?”

Mox shrugs. “Helped me focus, actually. Something other to think about than what to do next. I got off, and then I acted.” He sighs, a little dreamily. “I kind of miss it.”

“No,” Wheeler says. “I’m not doing this again. You can, in a singles match. But not with me.”

Mox grins at him. They both jump as Hangman’s music hits, and Mox pulls out the controller. “Keep an eye on the monitor, baby. This is gonna be good.”

Wheeler watches as Adam reacts to the match and the shifting vibrator. He’s not exactly sure what Mox is doing – something batshit crazy, Wheeler can only assume – until the music starts again.

“That’s my cue.” Mox leans in and kisses Wheeler hard, enough to make his head spin. “Good luck.”

Wheeler’s eyes are glued to the monitor as he waits for his music. When he hears Young Bucks music hit he freezes, expecting Matt, but it’s Nick instead. He has two more minutes before things get crazy.

And then the vibrator kicks in.

“Jesus fuck!” he squeaks, jumping half a foot.

Takeshita stares at him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Wheeler manages. “I’m – just excited for the match, is all.”

Takeshita nods slowly, like he can tell something weird is happening, but he thankfully doesn’t say another word.

Wheeler walks out to his music with a chair in his hands. It’s go time, whether he’s ready for it or not.

The anticipation makes him run, like the energy building inside him grows with every movement of the vibrator.

“This is fucking stupid,” he grumbles as he gets into the ring, but the chance to slam Hangman with the chair makes it easier to tolerate. He wails on whoever comes near him for a few minutes, for the fun of it.

Mox hands him a screwdriver. “A present for you. I got this one special.”

“You’re so fuckin’ weird.” But he takes the opportunity to stab Nick in the forehead with it, and it’s strangely satisfying. Not exactly the Buck he’d like to be brutalizing right now, he thinks as he suplexes Nick onto the chair, but it’s fun either way.

They get a few minutes to regroup, wailing on each other without any hesitation. At one point, Claudio’s kicking Adam in the stomach. It looks fun.

“My turn,” he singsongs, grinning down at Adam as he puts a boot into his gut.

“Dick,” Adam groans.

Wheeler’s about to say something back to him, but then the Young Bucks music hits. Shit.

“Oh, you’re in for it now,” Adam chuckles. “Yeah. Good luck.”

Yuta decides that fucking with Adam’s what will help him cope until Matt’s in the ring. He tries to hit Matt with a chair – and then he’s the one getting DDT’d on a chair. He rolls around on the ground, suddenly horrendously aware of the vibrator.

“The fuck is this?” he whimpers. Matt was right all those weeks ago – this weird waving motion is good. It’s too good.

He exhales, and thinks of eighth grade choir, and probably would have done better waiting three seconds for Kenny to punch him in the gut. “Ow!”

“Ow?!” Kenny asks as Yuta kicks him against the ropes. “We’re in a fight, dumbass, of course ow!”

Yuta rolls his eyes and manages to stand, shaking out his body. He feels overly coiled, like a spring forced together. It’s disorienting enough for Kenny to get the leverage over him, beating him hard until he shoves Wheeler’s face into the glass. He tastes blood on his teeth, and wishes it didn’t make him harder.

He rolls over, panting. He won’t give up this fast. He and Mox have been practicing for this kind of thing. Resisting it, holding it back, refusing to come until the last possible second.

His training fails him. Sitting up against a turnbuckle, Wheeler comes dry with his face in his hands. He didn’t even get a chance to say hi to Takeshita. He came before everyone was even in the ring. He sighs, trying not to feel too much shame as his body tingles back to normal. It happens to everyone, he suppose.

Or, as he watches his boyfriend pull out a screwdriver and nail board as he recovers from a televised orgasm nobody but three other people knew was even possible, maybe it doesn’t.

He checks in with Pac. “Did you know about that?” He points to the monstrosity Mox is currently grinning at.

“How would I?” Pac snarls. “I’m not the one shagging him behind the trailers, am I?”

Wheeler opens his mouth to answer. And reconsiders. “No, yeah, that’s fair.”

The two of them join in on messing with Matt and Adam, though, so at least the conversation is over.

When the countdown starts, though, he reconsiders his idea.

He’s always wanted to fight Ibushi, after all.

Before anyone can stop him, Wheeler runs out of the ring and up the ramp. The look in Ibushi’s eyes is enough to make him wonder if this was a bad idea. He doesn’t have to wonder much longer with the way Ibushi throws a forearm directly into his face.

He collapses to the floor, and wonders, just for a second, if he could stay here for the rest of the night.

And then the vibrator kicks on to high gear, and Wheeler’s vision blurs. He whimpers as he gets to his knees, scared for a second this is all going to go to shit, when he catches sight of Matt Jackson walking toward him.

“Oh, I’m fucked.” He feels the coiled spring in his lower back press tighter and tighter with every step of Matt Jackson toward him, with the way Matt licks his lips.

It’s the worst time to be reminded of the way Matt moans in bed, the way he felt around Yuta’s cock, the way – fuck.

“Yeah,” Matt says, gently. He lays a hand on Yuta’s back. It burns in the best way as Yuta pants through the orgasm. “Yeah, I know. That’s the problem with being young. You’re gonna come so many more times than you ever thought possible.”

His face is sweet, his smile is sweet. Hell, even the words themselves are sweet. But the gleam in Matt’s eyes is anything but, and Yuta is halfway to sure he’s going to die from orgasm overload tonight.

When he gets his legs under him again, Yuta stands. He shoves Matt down. “Don’t start with me,” he says, voice still sounding weak. He pretends not to notice it. He grabs Matt by the hair and drags him back to the ramp, expecting to get back in the ring, but then Matt hits him with a combination brain buster and vibrator setting shift.

“Fuck!” Wheeler yells. “Oh, god, fuck!”

Matt launches at him once he stands up and the two of them fly off the ramp onto the floor, fists and feet flying.

They yell at each other, back and forth, and Yuta doesn’t even know what he’s saying or where he is until he gets thrown into the side of the cage.

“Ow!” And then he looks up. “Matt, what the fuck are you wearing?!”

“Shark week,” he says like it’s an explanation, and shoves Wheeler’s face into the side of the cage again.

“Why are you so – stop being so strong!” Wheeler grumbles. Matt throws the hat in his face then follows it with a punch. “Jesus!”

“You’ve seen my biceps,” Matt says, shrugging. “I’m jacked, bitch.”

Wheeler crawls away to the steps, then changes his mind. He knows Matt’s afraid of heights. If he can bait him up to the top of the cage…

He throws Matt off of him with an eye rake and climbs the side of the cage as fast as he can. This only works if Matt’s more vengeful than scared, and he’s banking on it.

“Come and get it!” he yells down to Matt.

He watches the emotions scatter across Matt’s face – fear, concern, hesitation. And then Matt’s fingers are in the metal loops, and he’s climbing.

“Hey, you big baby!” Wheeler taunts. “Made it all the way up here without peeing your pants. Good job.”

“I’d make a joke about you making it into the match without coming in your pants, but we both know that’s not true.”

If anything earns a punch to the face that sure does, so Wheeler grabs Matt by his stupid perfect hair and hits him as hard as he can. Matt’s not backing down though, and they trade blows far too high up in the air.

“You think your boy’s holding out?” Wheeler scoffs. “Bet he’s come more times than me at this point.”

“More times?” Matt asks. “Like, more than once?” he laughs. “Oh, that’s great.”

Wheeler starts punching Matt in the mouth, because maybe, then he’ll shut up. It doesn’t last long enough though – Matt’s only stunned through a few, and next thing he knows he’s on the receiving end of about a thousand Northern Lights suplexes that almost send him over the edge of the cage.

“Ugh, fine,” Wheeler says. “Fuck off. I’m going back down.”

“Good,” Matt mumbles, rolled over on his side. “That way I know you won’t drag me down.”

Wheeler climbs down the side. He gets back into the ring just in time to engage with Kenny, but it doesn’t go as well as he wants – he wonders if Kenny saw his eye rake to Matt before they got on top of the cage.

He makes his way across the ring, because at least here he might have some luck against somebody, when something sharp rains down on his head.

“What the fuck?!”

“Weren’t you supposed to be taking care of him?” Claudio yells, wincing as metal pings off his shoulders.

“I thought I did!” Wheeler has more to say, of course, about Matt dropping thumbtacks on them from the top of the cage, but then Nick starts up with those stupid superkicks and Wheeler is reeling.

Reeling enough, it appears, for Adam to get him by the back of the neck and throw him into the corner.

“How are you?” he asks. It’s almost too kind, like they don’t both have vibrators inside them with their friends bloody and bruised around them.

“Fuck off,” Yuta spits. He tries to get out of Adam’s grasp, but he’s too strong. “You’re the one squirming on the ground every two minutes.”

“I’ve been out here longer than you,” Adam retorts, fire in his eyes.

Wheeler’s head spins as Adam wails on his head. He collapses in the corner again. The same corner where he came the first time, which is less than pleasant. He’s determined not to repeat history.

Matt must be busy, because the vibrator hasn’t changed in ages. It’s gentle and as unobtrusive as a vibrator in the ass can be. For the first time since the locker room, he feels okay.

He stands and gets back into the other ring, because beating the shit out of Nick Jackson seems fun. It is. They go back and forth for a few minutes until Matt sneaks up on him and gets him in a tombstone.

“What the fuck?!” he yells. He is painfully aware of how being upside down changes the way the vibrator works.

“Sucks to suck,” Adam yells to him. And then he’s dropped on the ground, and his head feels like lead.

He manages to get Matt up to the top turnbuckle and suplex him to the floor.

“Serves you right, you little shit.”

“You’re the little shit!” Matt yells at him from the floor. He spits out some of his own hair. “I’m gonna rip your teeth out.”

“Doubt it.”

Matt reaches for him, but Wheeler rolls his way to the other ring. He’s not willing to be wrong in calling Matt’s bluff. Clearly Matt’s been spending too much time with Mox.

He locks up with Matt where the rings meet, of course, because apparently he’s never allowed to be rid of this weird little gremlin, and he and Nick roll out of the attempt he had with Claudio to take them out. He’s on the floor, struggling to the ropes as he watches wrestler after wrestler get taken out and thrown to the floor. He takes the opportunity to get Nick into a stretch, and glances over his shoulder. Claudio’s got Matt in a giant swing.

“Serves him right,” Wheeler mutters. The satisfaction is short lived, though. Ibushi kicks him and he goes down faster than he’d ever admit. When he finally gets back to his feet, he’s glad the BCC has Kenny isolated. Maybe, just this once, the great Cleaner will go down without a fight.

Things go wrong more quickly than he can process. All of a sudden Claudio’s going after Pac, or Pac after Claudio. And Pac leaves. Wheeler knows, quickly, that things are about to go way downhill.

He’s distracted, and Kenny takes him out before he can do anything to resist. It’s slipping away from him so quickly. He can’t even fight off Nick as he drags him to the center of the second ring, throwing him into the tacks. All he can do is watch as Adam clocks Claudio with a Buckshot, and he barely knows what’s happened other than extreme impact. He’s kicked and hit and bleeding.

“Yuta!”

It’s Mox. But he doesn’t come.

Matt kicks him in the face with a shoe covered in thumbtacks. Nick shoves his face into the shoe. And then the cold chain wraps around him.

He won’t tap, and he won’t give up. He won’t be the reason they lose.

The sound of the bell is distant, confusing. “Didn’t tap,” he mumbles, but he can’t even tell if he can hear himself. And he can’t stop the relief as he collapses to the floor, the blood sliding down his face.

Claudio reaches him first, hands on his back, but Wheeler doesn’t want to see anyone but Mox.

“Did I tap?” Wheeler asks Claudio. “I didn’t, right?”

“No, you did not,” Claudio says. “You did wonderfully.”

He wishes he felt he did.

Claudio moves Wheeler so he’s sitting up a little more. It causes more blood to flood into his face.

“Yoots!”

Wheeler blinks the blood away from his eyes to see Mox crawling over to him, one arm unnaturally stretched behind him in the handcuff. “Hey.”

“I tapped,” Mox says. He looks anguished, devastated. “I – I couldn’t let them…they were – you weren’t going to make it.” He looks up at the Elite, who are having a conversation Wheeler can’t quite figure out. “Um, no!” Mox says in response to something from Adam. Then he points down at Wheeler.

“Oh.” Adam looks tired. “Right.”

Wheeler sits up. “Matt, you little shit, give me the key.”

“I don’t have it,” Matt says, frowning. He steps up, a little too closely, to Adam. “Key, please.”

Adam fishes around in his pocket, and something tumbles out. His eyes widen but Mox has grabbed it before Adam can go for it. Adam reaches in his pockets again and jolts a little bit. “Fuck!”

Wheeler turns to Mox, who grins. “Couldn’t resist a little more.”

“Shithead,” Adam grumbles, but he unlocks Mox’s hand without a fight. Mox stumbles over to Wheeler and practically collapses on top of him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, face buried in Wheeler’s chest. “I should have – I couldn’t break the handcuffs.”

Wheeler puts his hand on the back of Mox’s neck. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s all over now.”

They slowly get to their feet, Yuta’s entire body aching, and Matt and Adam are standing there, staring at the two of them.

Claudio hauls Mox and Wheeler fully to their feet, and they come face to face with the Elite. Wheeler doesn’t know what they’re going to do. If they’ll tease, if they’ll mock, if they’ll attack again. Kenny takes the mic and asks to shake their hands.

Wheeler’s hesitant as he does it, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. But they shake the Elite’s hands, and Adam and Matt squeeze just a little longer than they need to.

Adam

“This is a terrible idea,” Adam says, shifting back and forth.

Matt snickers. “I think it’s great. You look all weird. I’ve never seen your face like this.”

“Shut up,” Adam laughs. “This was your idea.”

“And I’m glad I had it.” Matt bumps Adam’s hip, and Adam has to fight the urge to twitch, the vibrator shifting. “Oh. Feeling it?”

“Shut up,” Adam says again. “This is so mean. How did you handle this?”

Matt shrugs. “I guess I’m just stronger than you are.” He tosses his hair over his shoulder. Adam has to resist the urge to throw him over his shoulder. His smile is gone quickly when Claudio’s music hits. Matt practically jumps and presses himself along Adam’s side.

“Clingy?”

Matt shakes his head. “Just – I know you have to go out before me, so I want to get time with you before you go.”

“Adorable,” Adam says. “Hey. This is going to be amazing. We’re going to win, and Ibushi is going to distract Kenny enough that they won’t notice our bullshit, and then we’ll go back to the hotel and do unspeakable things to each other later.”

Matt giggles. “I wish Nick would just talk to Claudio – that would take at least one more person out of our way.” He thinks. “We could throw someone at Takeshita, too.”

Adam laughs. “Oh, god, can you imagine him and Pac?”

“Unfortunately I just got a mental image of him and Callis.” Matt wrinkles his nose. “I need to go bleach my brain now.”

Kenny’s music is cued, and then it feels like a waiting game.

“When do you think I should turn it on?” Matt whispers, up on his toes, into Adam’s ear. “Once I start it, you know Mox will start yours.”

“Not until I’m out there,” Adam replies. He tries to shake off the stress, the anxiety. “Or, I don’t know. If Yuta goes out, you set it off.”

Matt giggles.

“What?”

“Just, you’re freaking out so much more than I was.” He looks smug. “I was right. Tops struggle so much more with this.”

“You try topping every once in a while, you goddamned pillow princess.” Adam leans over and kisses Matt’s temple. “All you gotta do is lay there and whimper all pretty.”

“You like it when I whimper all pretty,” Matt retorts.

Pac’s music stats.

“Could you two not talk about things like this when I’m right here?” Nick asks, turning to them a little miserably. “It’s bad enough my best friend and my brother are together again. Don’t make me hear the details, too.”

Adam chuckles into Matt’s hair. “Sorry, Nick.”

He’s on his toes, bouncing, when two things happen at once: his music hits, and the vibrator starts up.

Adam yelps and jumps about four feet in the air.

“What?” Nick asks, frowning. “What’s wrong with you?”

“He’s fine.” Matt’s grinning like a menace.

“I’m fine,” Adam says through gritted teeth.

Matt kisses him on the cheek. “Go have fun out there, Hanger.”

Adam laughs, a little hysterically. “Doing my best.”

The vibrator shifts in him as he scrambles up the stairs, but he stomps his way down the ramp with the goal of turning this energy into something productive.

Adam goes for Claudio first, then Pac. He’s caught off guard for half a second when Pac kicks him in the gut, but all it does is shift the vibrator to somewhere a little less aggressive. With the change, it’s relatively easy to keep focused, since the pattern is steady and gentle. He can focus a little like this, can take on Pac and Claudio at the same time to give Kenny a minute to rest.

The buzzing feels like another level of power running through him, adding to his fight. He can only hope the vibrator doesn’t shift again – Mox is playing with the settings. He knew it would happen, of course, but it feels a little unfair since Yuta isn’t even out here yet.

A big boot into Claudio shifts the vibrator into the wrong spot, sending the vibrator ballistic against Adam’s prostate. He goes for Pac, desperate for a distraction, but all he can do is grit his teeth. He adjusts his belt, convinced there’s some visual, some hint of what’s going on in his very tight pants.

“Of fuckin’ course,” he mumbles when Mox’s music turns on. He sends a silent prayer he hopes get to Matt: turn on Yuta’s vibrator. Making him start off kilter. It may be Adam’s only chance at survival.

Adam’s expecting Mox to come after him first as he yanks open the door to the cage. He didn’t expect the fork. Maybe, he thinks as pinpricks of pain trickle down his face, he should have.

“Having fun yet?” Mox asks, fork dug into Adam’s forehead.

“No,” Adam grumbles.

Adam manages to throw him off, but not long enough. With a wink and a grin, Mox shoves the fork into Adam’s gut. But it’s a cover, and Adam sees through it a second too late. Mox reaches down to palm Adam’s dick.

“Yeah, I figured,” Mox chuckles when he finds Adam hard. “Gonna fuck me for this later?”

“Shut up.” Adam doesn’t want to admit how good that sounds.

Adam’s stuck on the floor, feeling way too much at once, until Mox yanks him up and stabs him with a fork again.

“Oh,” Adam says, watching Mox roll out of the ring. He hears rustling. “Oh, that can’t be good.”

The bucket’s enough to worry Adam; he gets up and starts wailing on Mox as quickly as he can. Maybe, if he’s smart enough, he can get the stupid controller out of Mox’s pocket. Maybe, if he does the one thing Matt and Mox didn’t have the wherewithal to come up with in the heat of the moment during Anarchy, he can make it through this.

He grasps at Mox’s pockets while on his knees, but he can’t get to the controller. He looks up hopefully at the Young Buck’s music. He’s a little more disappointed than he should be when it’s Nick and not Matt.

It gives him the time, though, to collapse under the rings. Mox is doing something nefarious with the vibrator, turning it to some weird, intense pulsing. Adam should have figured out what was happening earlier – he’s done this with Matt a million times – but he doesn’t. He lays there, baffled, as he comes dry in his gear pants, in less than 10 minutes, in front of thousands. He only can hope that Nick is holding their attention.

He finally comes back to himself when Nick appears above him, shaking the ring ropes like a gremlin maniac. He’s not up fast enough though, his legs still jelly, and Mox gets ahold of Nick.

Adam winces, watching Nick and then Kenny get an unholy introduction to the glass. He does his best to pull himself to standing, but he’s still wobbly.

Mox wraps his jacket around Adam’s throat, reading something in Adam’s face. “Oh, shit,” Mox laughs. “You came already, didn’t you!” he gleefully declares.

“Fuck off,” Adam grumbles. He refuses to acknowledge how the vest around his throat smells like Mox. “Like you didn’t blow your load fast, too.”

“Not that fast,” Mox says. He looks almost giddy. Adam hates it. “You’ve never had one of those before, have you?”

“A vibrator up my ass?” Adam asks. “No.”

“A prostate orgasm,” Mox clarifies. “I have ideas for tonight.”

Before Adam can respond, Mox steps away from him. Adam’s about to jump up to get Mox’s ass, but Yuta’s music hits.

He grins.

“Your boy is gonna do so much worse than me.” He sounds giddy and stupid now, sure, but he deserves it. “Bet you Matt already cranked it to eleven.”

Mox turns Adam’s face. Unfortunately, Yuta looks terrifying as he walks into the ring.

“I gotta go,” Mox says, sliding his hand in his pocket. He presses some weird button and Adam’s hips jolt. “Have fun.”

He chucks Adam into the other ring like it’s nothing, right in front of Yuta.

“Hey, Cowboy,” he says with an infuriating smirk. “How you holding up?”

Before Adam can argue or say anything, Wheeler pulls the chair back and slams it into Adam’s gut. He thinks there are far more pertinent things to be concerned about in this setting, such as the possible busted appendix or perforated gall bladder, but he’s more focused on the way the second blow is right on Adam’s ass and sends the vibrator pressing against his prostate again.

Adam can’t do anything but while pathetically, and wish this was happening in private.

He squirms, less than pleased. “No,” he tells himself. “I’m not – not again.”

“Hey,” Nick says, crawling to Adam. “Adam, are you okay?”

“Fine,” Adam squeaks. “Yuta got me good with the chair.”

“Little shit,” Nick says. His eyes are lit up a little crazy, electric blue, and Adam reminds himself by Nick is probably the scariest member of the Elite. “Maybe I’ll stab him. Yeah, I could stab him!”

Adam doesn’t get the chance to reply, because Claudio or Yuta or somebody in blue yanks Nick away. He’d feel bad about not being able to save Nick, but his ass is doing some weird things and he’s preoccupied.

He’s not afforded enough down time, though. Claudio hauls him to his feet and wails on his in the corner.

“My turn,” Yuta singsongs. He kicks Adam in the stomach.

“Dick,” Adam groans. And then he hears it. “Oh, you’re in for it now.”

Yuta makes a strange face.

“Yeah,” Adam says, grinning. “Good luck.”

Adam glances over to see Matt stomping down the ramp, but he doesn’t get a chance to do a damned thing else with the way Mox, Claudio, and Yuta take turns hitting him with a chair.

He feels almost bad that Claudio’s not in on the joke.

Matt goes after Claudio and Mox like it’s nothing, like it’s fun, and smiles a little. That’s his guy.

Matt’s presence invigorates him, and he manages to get to his feet.

“Hey,” Matt says, concern written all over his face. “How are you?”

“About the vibrator?”

“No, I know you’re struggling with that.” He grins.

“Rude.”

“Head okay?”

“You’re still being rude.”

Matt grins at him even bigger. “Yeah.”

Adam takes the opportunity to go beat Yuta’s ass while he tries to hurt Kenny. “Hey, fuckwad,” he says by way of greeting, and punches Yuta in the back. The satisfaction doesn’t last long, though, because Pac grabs him and they wail on each other until Pac shoves his face into a turnbuckle. Every kick shifts the vibrator, and every shift threatens another one of those mind-numbing, leg jellying orgasms that Adam thinks he would like so much better at home.

Claudio tries him and it’s enough to help him get focused enough to hear Takeshita’s music.

“Shit,” he mumbles, getting to his feet to meet Takeshita in the ring. That means Ibushi’s the last one in the ring, which means –

He doesn’t have a chance to finish his thought. Takeshita slams him in the head with the chair.

“You good?” Nick asks a minute later, looking weirdly fine with being suplexed by Takeshita and his brother. “No head issues?”

“No head issues,” Adam agrees. “The hell are we going to do?”

“Wrong question,” Matt says, looking queasy as he scoots over. “The right question is what the hell did Mox just pull out from under the ring?”

Adam looks and a frantic little giggle comes out of his mouth. “Oh, we’re fucked.”

“We’ll be okay,” Matt says. He reaches out and squeezes Adam’s hand. “And, if not, we got each other, right?”

It’s sweet enough that Adam forgets where he is. It’s sweet enough that he lets himself get a little mushy over it, a little “I’m so lucky he’s my man” about it.

He should have realized the romance would make him come again.

Matt opens his mouth to say something, but he’s dragged away before Adam can tell him what’s happening. The second orgasm is less intense, more of a hit and run kind of thing, but it still makes his head swim and his muscles turn to liquid. Claudio catches him on the ground and steps on his neck which, admittedly, is better than being hit in the gut right now.

“Hey,” Matt says, draped over the turnbuckle by Yuta.

“Hi,” Adam mumbles. He’s still getting a little fucked up by the aftershocks. “I came again.”

Matt grins. “Yeah, I could tell.”

“Shut up,” Adam groans. “How did you survive all of Anarchy like this?”

Matt shrugs, as Ibushi’s music starts. “Bottoms are better, I guess.”

Everyone in the ring, BCC or Elite, pauses as Ibushi walks out. Just for a second. And then, like a switch, Yuta bolts out of the ring and goes after Ibushi.

“He’s gonna kill the kid,” Matt muses.

And he does. Adam remembers the times he’s been in a ring with Ibushi – most of the time on opposite sides. As he watches Ibushi lay out member after member of the BCC, though, he’s glad he’s here.

Matt disappears, Mox gets covered in blood, and Adam tries to figure out how much longer he has to survive through this before one or all of them collapse. Thankfully he doesn’t come again, but something in the base of his spine is overwhelmed and depleted.

It’s not until thumbtacks start raining from the ceiling that he regains clarity.

“The hell?” Claudio mumbles.

Adam just laughs. “I forgot about that one.”

It baffles Pac and Claudio long enough that Adam and Nick drop them directly into the thumbtacks. Adam’s about to join Nick in kicking the shit out of the BCC guys, but he catches Mox’s eye and the vibrator shifts. He locks eyes with Mox, determined not to react.

Adam turns and runs at Yuta. “How are you?” he asks as he throws Yuta headfirst into a turnbuckle.

“Fuck off,” Yuta growls. He tries to push Adam off, but he holds Yuta steady and starts wailing on his head. “You’re the one squirming on the ground every two minutes.”

“I’ve been out here longer than you,” Adam snaps back.

Hanger lets Kenny and the Bucks set up a spot with Pac, and, at his turn, dutifully slams Pac with a standing shooting star press.

Just for fun, he starts messing with Claudio.

“Oh, no,” Kenny says. It’s strangely polite how he taps Adam on the shoulder. “My turn.”

Adam thinks he’s about to get a break, but then Mox catches him. Mox’s attempt at a stomp fails and gives Adam enough time to slam him, back first, onto the tacks.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Mox moans.

“You sound almost as pretty as you do when I fuck you,” Adam says casually, and walks away.

The double tombstone will be a highlight, Adam thinks, as the drop shifts the vibrator and clears his vision. A good moment. He gets to stand next to Matt. His head’s spinning a little less.

When Mox starts scratching up his back, Adam pretends like it’s not adding to the effects of the vibrator. Pretends really hard. Pretends so hard he almost starts to cry, and the suplex actually makes him feel better.

“Oh, I hate this,” he whines. “Oh, I hate this so much.”

Mox catches his eye and laughs. “Need a break, Cowboy?”

Adam fights to his feet again. “Need to break you, maybe.” Adam’s close, for the third goddamned time, and there’s only one last option: get the remote and break it.

He drags himself across the rings and watches as, on one sloppy roll, the controller slips out of Mox’s pocket. It’s too easy. It’s too good to resist. In a flash, Adam reaches out and grabs the controller. The relief he feels as he turns it off is almost too good.

“Is that allowed?” Matt asks him.

Adam shrugs, running in with the controller in his hand to punch Mox in the head. “No rules in Blood and Guts, right?”

He feels invigorated as he shoves the controller in his pocket and bounces off the ropes to throw a forearm into Takeshita’s throat. The satisfaction dies fast, though, as Mox gives him a cutter right to the floor.

“Bitch,” he grumbles as he rolls away. He grins as Ibushi kicks Mox in the chest.

He’s not sure how Mox gets ahold of him again, but he locks his legs against Adam’s head. “You took the controller!”

“I did,” Adam chokes out.

“Cheater!”

“It’s Blood and Guts! There is no cheating!”

“The vibrator isn’t part of Blood and Guts!”

“Yes, it is!”

Adam’s pretty sure they would have kept going back and forth like this for a decade or so, but then Ibushi kicks Mox in the jaw and Adam is freed.

He wants to get up to save Kenny, but his entire body aches. Now that the vibrator is off, his adrenaline is starting to wear off.

“Help Kenny,” he mumbles to Nick. “I’m stuck on the floor.”

“I don’t think we need to,” Nick says, rolling over. “Look.”

Adam watches as Pac snaps the lock off the door and walks away. Kenny goes after three of the BCC members left.

He stands, preparing. “This is gonna be good.”

First, he hits a Buckshot on Claudio. When he meets Kenny’s eyes in the other ring, he nods.

A Last Call. For the first time in almost three years.

Yuta goes down hard, his hips twitching, and Adam grins. Matt must have added a few clicks to the vibrator.

“We’re gonna win this,” Adam mumbles. He pushes himself to seated. “Matt, Nick, I have an idea.”

He slides under the ring and pulls out the handcuffs, locking Mox to the ropes. He also pulls out the end of a chain – he can end this. He can end this easy.

Matt gets to play dress up with his fun sneaker and Adam throws the chain around Yuta’s neck without a second thought. Matt comes from the side and wraps his arms around Adam’s waist.

“You’re doing great,” he murmurs. “Just – almost – ”

But Yuta doesn’t tap. The bell rings, and Yuta doesn’t tap. They let go of the chain anyway.

Carry On My Wayward Son plays. Adam feels exhaustion crash over him. “Oh, my god,” he says to Matt. “I need a nap.”

Matt pouts. “I mean, okay. Fine. But after?” He bats his eyelashes.

“We just won a blood feud match! Can you focus?!” Nick yells. “Why am I always here for these moments?”

Their hands are raises in the center of the ring and Adam feels a sense of accomplishment wash through him. They won. He came twice, sure, and probably would have done another twelve times if he hadn’t gotten Mox’s controller, but he’s okay now. He grins as their hands are raised, victorious.

“You okay, Hanger?” Kenny asks. Adam doesn’t want to admit it, but he looks like he suspects something. “You’ve been a little twitchy all match.”

Adam refuses to let himself blush. “I mean, yeah. Intense match.” He shifts. “Lots to worry – what is Ibushi doing?”

They turn to see Ibushi pushing thumbtacks into his chest.

“Why the hell – oh, come on.”

Adam laughs at Kenny’s reaction as Ibushi bumps himself into the thumbtacks like it’s nothing.

“Your boyfriend just intentionally filled his back with tacks,” Adam muses. “That’s unique.”

“Yeah, well, yours glued thumbtacks to his stupidly expensive shoe,” Kenny replies, ducking under the ropes to go get Ibushi out of there. “We have equally weird partners.”

“Who’s weird?” Matt asks, shuffling up next to Adam. “Me?”

“Yes, but also Kota,” Adam nods to where Kenny is now gently picking thumbtacks out of Ibushi’s skin. It’s somehow romantic. “He just threw himself into those.”

“I get that,” Matt muses. “Sometimes you just have to do something stupid, you know?”

“Oh, like choke out the guy you plan on fucking later tonight mid-match?” Adam whispers into Matt’s ear. He grins as Matt shivers, whole body.

“You can’t say stuff like that,” Matt mutters. “We might still be on air.”

“Aw, come on. We’ve gotta be off by now.”

“Alright, you two,” Nick says, and he smacks Adam on the back. It jostles the vibrator and Adam yelps. “The hell’s wrong with you?”

“Thumbtack in the ass,” Matt says, grinning. “It’s a tragic diagnosis.”

“I’m going to chose to believe that so I don’t have to consider any of the other weird stuff you two get up to.” Nick wrinkles his nose. “Also, how bad is my face?”

“Bloody, but not Mox bloody,” Adam says. “Let’s all get backstage and get cleaned up, okay?”

“Uh, no!” Mox yells. He gestures to Yuta, still covered in blood.

Adam blows some hair out of his face. “Oh. Right.”

Adam only has a few puncture wounds from pieces of glass and tacks, which feels like a miracle. Matt’s even luckier – bruises, yes, but so little blood it almost feels impossible. Nick, on the other hand…

“You two go off without me,” he waves off. “Me, Kenny, and Kota are planning on getting dinner later anyway, since you two. Well, I don’t know what you two do after a match, but it’s usually weird and it usually grosses me out, so.”

Matt opens his mouth to argue, because that’s his default state, but Adam slaps his hands on Matt’s shoulders.

“Well, feel better,” he says before Matt goes off. “Text us if you need anything.”

Matt’s sputtering as Adam steers him out of the medical room. “What’s that about?”

“He’s giving us a pass,” Adam says, low in Matt’s ear, “and I need to get this vibrator out of me before I lose my fuckin’ mind.”

“Oh!” Matt says. “Oh, I forgot you still had it in.”

“Lucky you.”

Adam feels weird, like really weird, as he takes out the vibrator once they get back to their room.

“You okay?” Matt asks, hovering outside the door. “I can help, if you need it.”

“Babe, I love you, but I promise I can figure this out on my own.” Adam steps out of the hotel bathroom after cleaning the vibrator. “See? All better.”

Matt nods. “You still sleepy?”

“I am,” Adam says. He licks his lips. “But a shower might wake me up.”

Matt bites his lip and half sprints into the bathroom.

Adam teases him the whole shower, lips on Matt’s neck a hand on his lower belly, a finger teasing at Matt’s entrance. Matt whimpers and presses against him, but Adam won’t give in.

“Oh, no,” he murmurs, taking Matt’s earlobe into his mouth. “You made me wait, now you can wait.”

“Mean,” Matt murmurs, pushing into Adam’s hand.

“It’s only fair.”

Matt freezes. “Using my words against me is a dick move.”

Adam laughs. “Kind of the point, baby.”

Wheeler

“Are you okay?” Mox whispers into Wheeler’s ear.

“Vibrator’s stopped working, so yeah,” Wheeler replies. He hopes Claudio can’t hear him.

“Not what I meant.” Wheeler turns to see Mox looking at him sternly.

Mox won’t leave his side while medical checks him out. Wheeler’s neck is fine, barely even bruised. He can speak, swallow, breathe without any problems. Doc Sampson’s shocked.

“You don’t even usually bleed like that,” Doc says, more to himself, in awe. “I expected a giant gash.”

“Takes after me,” Mox says, but there’s nothing behind his smile.

“Yeah, I’m used to you bleeding like a stuck pig, you lunatic,” Doc snaps back. “Stop teaching your young boy to be reckless.”

“I didn’t have to teach him anything. He did this one by himself.” Mox looks miserable in a way Wheeler’s never seen before.

They get cleaned up to the best of the doctors’ abilities, stitches and antibiotic ointment and bandages everywhere, and Wheeler tries his best not to react every time he shifts and the stupid vibrator moves around inside of him. He’d planned on taking it out as soon as possible, but with all the glass, screwdrivers, thumbtacks, and chains involved, medical swept him up before he could do anything.

“You keep an eye on each other tonight,” Doc says firmly. “I don’t like the idea of any of the ten of you being on your own tonight.”

Wheeler snickers.

“Not like that, you – gross.” Doc shakes his head. “Well, if you’re making sex jokes, you’re probably good to go. Off you get, you two heathens.” He smiles. “Take care of each other, okay?”

Mox nods solemnly and Wheeler steers him toward the bathroom. “I gotta take care of the thing,” he says, almost pleading. Now that it’s almost out, Wheeler is desperate to be rid of it.

“Oh! Oh, right.” Mox finally smiles for the first time in ages. “Jeez, I almost forgot about those.”

“Lucky you,” Wheeler laughs. “Give me a second, okay?”

Mox’s grin, while exhausted, turns a little dirty. “Need any help?”

“No, I think I can handle this.” He winks.

He feels a sense of weightless relief when he gets the damned thing out of him – finally free of the pressure. “Oh, thank god.”

“You good?” Mox asks. He fiddles with his fingers, thumbnail going to his mouth.

Wheeler nods, shoving the vibrator into his pocket after a quick clean off. He’ll do better at the hotel. “I’m good,” he says. “Let’s go back to the hotel.” He smiles. “And maybe call Adam and Matt?”

Mox shrugs distracted. “Okay.”

He barely speaks until Wheeler walks him to the shower. He thinks maybe the water will shake him from whatever’s going on in his head, but he doesn’t speak.

Wheeler waits to speak until the water’s the right temperature, and steps in. “Mox,” he says gently. “Come on. It’s okay.”

Mox steps in. “It’s not,” he says. “It’s my fault it isn’t.”

“It’s not your fault,” Wheeler says again, leaning back as Mox runs his hands through his bloody hair. “Stop beating yourself up.”

“It is,” Mox insists. He’s so gentle with the way he scrubs the shampoo into Wheeler’s scalp. Too gentle. “I should have – it should have been me there.”

“You’ve already been choked out by Hangman,” Wheeler murmurs. “My turn.”

“Shouldn’t’ve been,” Mox says.

Wheeler turns around to steady Mox by the shoulders. “This is part of the job,” he insists. Mox won’t meet his eyes. “Baby. Stop freaking out.” He grabs Mox’s hand and rests it on his throat. “Look. Your hand has been here a hundred times.” He grins at the way Mox relaxes. “I’ve been there before.”

Mox nods, stroking the slightly tender skin of Wheeler’s throat. “You ask me to, though,” he says quietly. “You didn’t ask them.”

“Didn’t I?” Wheeler laughs. “I mean, we agreed to a Blood and Guts match with a man named the Hangman.”

Mox laughs lightly, the stress melting from his forehead. “You’re hurt, though.”

Wheeler shrugs, brushing a thumb underneath “I’m always hurt.”

Mox lets it go, though, and the two of them wash the blood, sweat, and glass off their skin slowly. They had traded off on pulling the thumbtacks and larger glass shards out of each other’s skin earlier. Now it’s just the runoff, showering until the water runs clear and the sting is gone. Wheeler checks the brand of the hotel shampoo.

“Smells good,” Wheeler says, setting it next to his bag once they’re out of the bathroom and dried off. “I’m stealing it.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not really stealing, but okay,” Mox says. He sits on the bed with the towel around his waist, stretching himself out. “So.”

Wheeler laughs. “Already? Really?”

“We showered and you were naked near me,” Mox says, like it’s an explanation.

Wheeler rolls his eyes. “Aren’t we supposed to be meeting Matt and Adam?”

“No,” Mox says, folding his arms behind his head. “They fucked you up earlier. I get you all to myself tonight.”

Wheeler forces a pout and tries for boo-boo eyes. “Is this you being jealous or being petty?”

“Yes.”

Wheeler sighs. “Get up. We’re going to go get laid.”

“We could do that right here.” Mox pats the side of the bed. “Well, okay, now I have an idea.”

Wheeler raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Mox sits up. “Let’s change things up a bit. Text Adam. We’re going to their room.”

Adam

Adam throws his head back and laughs. “Sure, yeah, have Matt top. See what happens.”

“I could!” Matt argues. He folds his arms across his chest.

Wheeler snickers.

“Oh, shut up.”

Adam reaches out and yanks Matt toward him, kissing the top of his head. “You know who you are, baby. It’s okay.”

Matt mutters something probably bitchy and whiny, but Adam just laughs.

“Again,” Mox says, pointing at the two of them. “You and me aren’t that cute. When you’re being a bitch I just put you in a headlock.”

“How exactly is that my fault?” Wheeler asks, exchanging a glance with Adam.

Mox opens his mouth and closes it. “Fair enough, but you’re still a bitch.”

Adam nudges Matt’s arm. “I mean. If you really want to try topping.” He gestures to the bed. “Have at it. Let’s see you do it.”

“Well, now it’s a challenge.” He stops over to Wheeler. “You. Can I top you?”

Wheeler grins at him, smarmy. “You can try.”

Matt throws a defiant look over his shoulder at Adam. “Watch me.”

Adam settles into a chair in the corner of the room. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Wheeler

Wheeler’s sitting on the bed, looking up at a Matt Jackson who is clearly doing his best not to pout. “You gonna top me?” he asks, fighting a grin. “Then top me. Why are you just standing there?”

“I – because.” Matt says it like it means something. “I’m making you wait.”

“For what?”

“Shut up,” Matt says. There’s a bit of a bite behind it, Wheeler will admit, but it reminds him of his mom’s puppy playing with the bigger dogs next door. “Take off your shirt.”

Wheeler pulls it off over his head. “You, too.”

Mox snickers.

Matt turns around, his hair flying everywhere. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s not you,” he says. “Wheeler sucks at being dommed, is all. Tells you what to do even when he’s supposed to be following instructions.”

“Do not!”

“Do too,” Mox replies.

Wheeler turns his gaze over to Adam, who looks content and calm in the chair. He’s still dressed in his tee shirt and jeans, watching them like a half entertaining television show. It’s not enough. Wheeler’s in the mood to perform.

“Then maybe he needs something in his mouth,” Matt says. “Get, um. Go kneel.”

“Go kneel?” Wheeler asks, fighting a laugh. “What a way to ask.”

“Just do it,” Adam says. And the atmosphere of the room changes. Matt looks over at him, and Adam nods. “You got this, baby. Just stay confident.”

Matt nods. “On your knees, please,” he says, and Wheeler obliges. The carpet is plush and comfortable, and he’s glad about it for the sake of his knees.

“Alright, I’m on my knees,” Wheeler says, raising an eyebrow. “What next?”

Matt bites his lip. “I’m going to take off my pants, now. And you’re – you’re gonna suck my dick.”

“Cool,” Wheeler says. “Yeah, I can do that.”

He licks his lips almost automatically as Matt’s cock falls out of his cozy-looking pajama pants and reaches up to pull them down to Matt’s ankles. Matt looks almost confused at Wheeler’s interference.

“Aren’t I supposed to do that?” Matt asks, eyes already big and sweet. The effect is different from the new angle.

Wheeler shrugs. “Maybe I’m helping you. You can call it that, yeah?”

Matt nods. “You, um. You can. Now.”

Wheeler leans in and licks a stripe up the side of Matt’s cock, grinning at the way Matt shudders. “Oh. Oh, okay.”

“You like that?” Mox asks. Wheeler pulls back to flick his tongue at the top of Matt’s dick and sees Mox walk up behind Matt and slide his hands around Matt’s chest, trailing designs on his skin. “Tell him.”

“It’s good,” Matt mumbles, eyes fluttering closed. “I – I want my cock in your mouth now.”

Wheeler nods and sinks down, hollowing out his cheeks, and he’s pretty sure Matt’s legs would have given out under him if Mox wasn’t holding him out.

“That’s it,” Adam says. It sounds like he still hasn’t left the chair. “Keep talking, Matty. Tell him what to do. You can do it.”

“I – keep going,” Matt says, hips twitching. “Don’t stop, okay?”

“More specific, Matt,” Adam directs. “What exactly do you want?”

“You could fuck his mouth,” Mox suggests. Wheeler gives a thumbs up to cue Matt.

“Okay,” Matt says, breathy. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’m gonna fuck your mouth now, okay?”

Wheeler gives another thumbs up and relaxes his throat and jaw, ready for Matt to go nuts.

It’s a few shallow thrusts before Matt pauses. “Wait, I -I think I need to –”

Wheeler pulls off, looking up at Matt. “You okay?”

“I’m good!” Matt says, flushed high on his cheeks. “I just – I’m not very good at this.” He looks almost embarrassed. “I keep getting all wobbly, and I’m not saying the right thing. I’m trying to top and I still have two people telling me what to do.” It’s weird to see him this insecure, even after how vulnerable he was last time. Especially after he was helping Adam choke Wheeler out earlier that night.

There’s a few quiet steps behind Wheeler and Adam comes from behind and sits on the bed. “You come sit in my lap. That way you can do whatever you want without worrying about falling over.”

Wheeler’s impressed – he’s barely involved and Adam’s got control of the room. He’s suddenly reminded of the phrase “speak softly and carry a big stick,” and he can’t help but smile.

“What’s so funny?” Mox asks, hands planted on his hips. “You’re still on your knees, baby.”

“It – don’t worry about it,” Wheeler keeps giggling. “Sorry. Sorry, I’ll stop.”

“Yes, you will,” Adam says. Wheeler’s eyes snap to him.

“Damn, Cowboy, you’re really pulling out the stops tonight, aren’t you?” Wheeler teases. He shuffles so he’s right in front of Matt. “Alright, alright, I’ll take care of your boy.”

Matt sighs all pretty as Wheeler sinks his mouth down on Matt’s dick. Adam’s whispering quietly into Matt’s ear, and it’s kind of fun to watch how quickly Matt falls apart.

“I – oh, I should stop,” Matt mumbles. “Too close. Want – don’t want it to end.”

Wheeler does one last flick of his tongue as he pulls off, laughing as Matt whines a little.

“Don’t be a bitch,” Matt whines. He looks over at Mox. “I thought you were the annoying one.”

Mox shrugs. “We exchange duties.”

Matt wiggles.

“Use your words,” Adam says. “Don’t make us guess.”

Matt presses his lips together and looks around at the other three in the room. “I think Adam and Yuta should kiss.”

Mox lights up. “I like that.”

Wheeler shrugs and stands, leaning in to kiss Adam over Matt. Adam kisses good, too, deep and unyielding, thorough and intentional. Matt whimpers between them.

“Am I squishing you or something?”

Matt shakes his head. “No. No, it’s just. This is really hot.” He slides out from under Wheeler and climbs into Mox’s lap, not even giving him time to take off his clothes. “Mox, I think you should kiss me. Or fuck me. Whatever you want.”

Mox looks over to Wheeler. “Uh. That’s not what I expected.”

“You looked good tonight,” Matt says, shrugging. “And I’ve always wanted to see if you’re as good in bed as you are wrestling.”

“Well, when you put it that way.” Mox flips them, pressing Matt to the bed. “Love this whole swapping partners thing. This is fun.”

“It is,” Wheeler says. He leans down and kisses Adam again. Mox and Matt seemed to have figured themselves out pretty easily – Matt’s already squirming underneath Mox as he bites marks up and down Matt’s neck. But Adam and Wheeler keep fighting with each other, kissing like they’re trying to win a battle, and this isn’t going to work.

Wheeler pulls back. “Look, one of us is gonna have to, like, relent or something. We can’t both be in control.”

“Why not?” Adam asks, grinning. “I think I could convince you.”

“What if I convinced you?” Wheeler asks. “Get you under me, all desperate.” He grins. “I think you’d like that.”

Adam licks his lips. “Yeah?”

“Do we need to wait for the two of you to make a decision or can we fuck now?” Mox asks. He’s already got a condom on and – oh, he’s two fingers deep in Matt already.

“Looking good, Matty,” Adam says. He winks and Matt immediately turns pink.

Matt bites his lips and directs his eyes over at Adam, big and brown and sweet as hell. “Thanks.”

“Oh, you two are insufferable,” Wheeler grumbles. “Mox, please fuck Matt into be tolerable again.”

“On it,” Mox says, saluting.

Adam and Wheeler find themselves a bit distracted, watching as Mox slowly pushes into Matt with incredible concentration. Matt’s face is blissful, angelic. Wheeler might be able to be convinced Matt’s not a total diva in real life.

“You know what?” Adam says softly. “Yeah. I could try that.” He turns to Wheeler. “You should fuck me.”

Wheeler shivers. “Jesus. I – okay. Yeah, I can do that.”

Adam looks fucking incredible as Wheeler opens him up – he takes to it more easily than Wheeler expected, pushing himself down on Wheeler’s fingers like it’s a competition.

“Turn over,” Adam demands. “I’m gonna ride you.”

“You – you are?!”

“Yeah,” Adam says. “Bottoming from the top.” He winks at Wheeler and it’s disarming enough that he gets a chance to flip Wheeler over.

“This is a great idea, yeah.” Wheeler grins. “Fuck, yeah.” He flops back against the pillows, and finds himself nose to nose with Matt. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Matt says, smiling. “Hey, Mox? That looks fun. I wanna ride you, too.”

“How is Hangman in charge of all four of us?!” Mox asks. Adam shoves him down on the bed next to Wheeler.

“Because you three are super annoying and need someone in charge, apparently,” Adam replies. “Wheeler, you good?”

Wheeler nods, finishing up the condom. “Yeah, fuck. I’m good.”

Adam gives him this searing look, something that lights Wheeler up from the inside. “Hold on tight.”

“Isn’t it save a horse, ride a cowboy?” Wheeler asks, trying to act like his vision isn’t whiting out as Adam sinks down on his dick. “This – fuck – this feels backwards.”

“Well a cowboy’s gotta ride, right?” Adam winks, and Wheeler thinks this might be even better than last time. He’d never say that to Matt, of course, but there’s something to be said about being inside someone who has this level of confidence.

Mox turns to him. “Hey, babe. Weird, isn’t it?”

“What’s weird?” Wheeler asks. He decides to settle his hands on Adam’s strong thighs where they bracket around his own waist.

“I dunno. This.” He gestures to all of them. “You know. Choked you out a few hours ago, now you’re fucking him. We live a weird life.”

“Can you focus attention on me?” Matt asks. “Not to be a brat or anything, but you’re supposed to be fucking me, not, like.” He wrinkles his nose, stilling. “Commentating with your boyfriend.”

Mox sighs. “Well then. How’s your back?”

Matt tilts his head. “Fine. Why?”

Wheeler watches, impressed, as Mox stands up with an arm around Matt’s back and shoves him up against the wall.

“That’s why,” Mox says, voice low and dangerous.

“Alright then,” Adam says as Mox rails Matt quite directly into oblivion. “If they’re gonna go with that.”

Wheeler’s vision actually does white out this time as Adam works his hips to ride Wheeler madly. He has an image of a wild stallion. “Fuck,” he whimpers. “Oh, my god.” He reaches his hand up and wraps it around the back of Adam’s neck to yank him down for a kiss. It’s more like a desperate, open mouthed press. Wheeler fucks up into Adam as best he can, but it’s more like he’s holding on for the ride.

“Fuck,” Adam mutters. “Fuck, I get bottoming now.”

Wheeler reaches his hand between them and watches, fascinated, as Adam fucks up into the circle of his fingers and grinds back down on Wheeler’s dick. He comes for the third time that night, hard and intense and so fucking good he almost cries. He feels more than sees or hears Adam come, clenched around his cock, and Wheeler’s entire body is an exposed nerve. Too much, too good, too hot, too intense.

And then Adam rolls off of him, and he relaxes.

“Holy fuck,” Adam says. “Matty, you good?”

Matt lets out a nonsensical strain of syllables, and Wheeler watches him come, head thrown back and hair everywhere.

“Good,” Adam says.

Wheeler wonders if he blacked out or something. “Did he say any actual words?”

“No, but that’s what he sounds like when he’s well fucked,” Adam says, waving it off. “I think I understand the whole bottoming thing. Two thumbs up.” He does so, but it’s almost as weak as Orange Cassidy’s.

“Is that a compliment?” Wheeler asks, turning over to grin at Adam. “I made you like bottoming?”

“I didn’t dislike it before or anything,” Adam says, putting his arms behind his head. Wheeler’s eyes are stuck on how big it makes his arms look. “I just didn’t get it, you know?” His eyes close. “I get it now.”

“Yeah, yeah, Yuta’s got a magic dick. We know.” Mox jumps in bed next to Wheeler, burying his face into his chest.

Matt walks around the bed to curl into Adam’s side, mirroring Mox.

“You’ll never bottom again with that one.” Wheeler nods at Matt.

“I could try!” Matt says. It’s almost closer to a whine. “I did okay tonight.”

“You did a great job following my instructions on how to top,” Adam corrects, pressing a kiss to the top of Matt’s somehow still great hair. “You’ll get there.”

Matt lets out a contented sigh, and throws an arm over Adam to rest on Wheeler’s stomach and tangle with Mox’s fingers. It’s sweet. It feels right.

“I think I’m getting used to this,” Wheler says, frowning.

“Is that a bad thing?” Matt asks.

Wheeler thinks for a second. He’s warm and cozy, safe. He got choked out by one of them men he just fucked, and he trusted him.

“No,” Wheeler decides. “It’s good.”

They’re almost asleep, when Mox has to ruin it.

“Hey, how many times did Adam come?” he asks.

Wheeler blinks. “I don’t kn-“

“Twice,” Matt answers. “What about Wheeler?”

“I’m right here!”

“Twice,” Mox says. “Huh. Looks like we’re tied.”

Adam and Wheeler groan in tandem.

Mini Playlist (I should write a formal apology for this one): Good Vibrations - Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch Good Vibrations - The Beach Boys Vibrate - Petey Pablo Shake It - Metro Station

#HELLO I HAVE MADE A HORRIBLE DECISION WITH THIS ONE BUT HERE WE GO!#I wrote over 7100 words today this is truly absurd #wtf i like wrestling now???#in which sara writes #I don't even know how to tag this #anxious millennial dreamboat #madly in love with leather daddy jon moxley #matt attrackson #MoxMatt #HangYoots #HangMatt #MoxYuta

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rafesveryrealgf · 1 year

Text

Two’s better than one | chapter 1

(Rafe x reader | Topper x reader)

Warning: NON CANON, curse words, sexual innuendos, cheating, toxic!topper, alcohol, arguing, toxic relationship

Synopsis: you might’ve fallen for your boyfriend, Topper’s best friend, Rafe.

A/N: I don’t condone cheating, just thought it would make a good story

You leaned against the wall, drink in your hand, eyeing your boyfriend, Topper, who was just across the room. He was too drunk, and too into the beer pong game he was playing with his friends to be paying attention to the way you watched him.

It was nothing new. Topper had dragged you to yet another party; this party, only to leave you alone.

Annoyed at the fact that your boyfriend said you both could leave an hour ago; before he got distracted, you pushed your back off the wall, storming towards your boyfriend.

You slightly nudged him when he didn’t notice you standing next to him.

“Dude.” he turned his head, now looking down at you.

“You said we could leave an hour ago.” You were now furious with the way he rolled his eyes at you.

“Let me just finish-,”

“Whatever, goodbye, Topper.” You tossed your now empty solo cup at him before walking towards the front door to leave.

You were now walking, alone, at night, which should’ve scared you, but you were too focused on how pissed you were at Topper for ditching you, again, and making you stay, knowing he was your ride, and you had a curfew.

You were a little startled when you saw, out of your peripheral vision that a truck was slowing down.

That was until a familiar voice called out to you.

“Yo,” he called out. “Need a ride?”

You turned your head to see, Rafe with one arm out his truck, and his head out the window

Rafe had been at the same party as you too, and more than likely saw you storm off, away from Topper.

You were hesitant, and Rafe could absolutely tell.

“C’mon. I don’t bite.” He jerked his head, gesturing for you to get in.

Rafe wasn’t necessarily someone you would want to voluntarily get in a car with, especially after all the things you’d heard about him, but he was Toppers best friend, and he’d never given you any problems before.

in this moment you just wanted to get home, and your feet were strained from the harsh ground you were walking on.

You walked around to the passenger side of his truck, and got in.

“Thank you.” You murmured, fastening your seatbelt.

“It’s no problem. Was headed this way any way.” He shrugged.

He continued driving as you gave him directions to your house.

You were stunned by the fact he’d even stopped for you. I mean honestly, he’d never even really spoke to you before. You and Topper had been together for a year so it was kind of weird that this was first time Rafe really acknowledged you.

You were overall grateful though.

Topper probably wouldn’t have even noticed you were gone until he was actually, ready to go home.

You, and Topper knew each other since kids, both growing up on figure eight, your parents pushed you to be close.

When Topper was twelve he’d realized he liked you, and when you turned fourteen you realized you might’ve had a little bit of feelings for him as well.

Once you were both sixteen you made it official, it started off good, and it was still kind of good, but the spark was gone.

The excitement of having your first boyfriend was gone.

You and Topper were each others first every thing, so naturally, you were attached to him, but you missed the way everything felt so exciting in the beginning, like sneaking out to see each other at night, and going to parties together without being ditched by him.

“Why were you walking alone?” He pulled you out your thoughts, looking over at you then back on the road.

One of his hands was on the steering wheel while the other sat besides him.

You looked over towards him for a brief moment.

“Topper. Topper was taking forever to leave a party we were at, and I kinda have a curfew.”

He nodded.

“Hm. Kinda shitty of him.”

You were taken aback by his words.

He talked about him as if that wasn’t his best friend.

“Yeah, yeah. He got side tracked, and I mean I get it. Have your fun or, whatever,” You rambled. “But at least respect me enough to take me home when I ask.”

You were just ranting at this point. Still upset your boyfriend couldn’t respect your curfew.

He looked over to you once again, and nodded as if he was actually listening to your rant.

He let you rant some more, and didn’t complain. Despite that being his best friend, he knew what Topper did was wrong, and you deserved to rant a little bit so, he let you.

Once he pulled into your driveway you sat for a moment.

“Thank you, like, seriously.” You smiled.

He returned the smile, and nodded.

You looked back at him one more time before opening his car door, and hopping out the truck.

And just as you were about to shut the truck door,

“Y’know, if Topper ever decides to leave you hangin’, again,” he spoke. “I got you.”

You nodded, smiling as you shut the door, walking up to your house.

His truck sat there until you unlocked the door with your key and walked inside.

When you got inside, you went up to your room, laying your house key on your nightstand.

You were exhausted to say the least.

You took off your tube top, and jean shorts, leaving you in only bra, and panties, You walked over to your closet, and picked out an oversized crew neck to sleep in.

You finished brushing your teeth, and washing your face, and walked out your bathroom. Just as you made it to your bed about to turn off your night lamp, there was a tap at your window.

You rolled your eyes already having an idea of who it could possibly be.

You pulled back your curtains, watching as Topper gestured for you to open the window.

And so you did.

“Fuck do you want, Topper?” You spat as soon as the window was open enough for him to climb through.

You walked away from the window, not wanting to look at his very punchable face.

After he got in he instantly walked towards you with his arms open.

You pushed him away.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay — I lost track of time.” He reached his arms once again.

“Doesn’t fucking matter. You let me walk home, alone.” You sat on your bed, and dragged you hands down your face from exhaustion.

“I didn’t know — I didn’t know, y/n.” He kneeled in front of you, both hands rested on your thighs.

“Whatever. I got a ride from someone else anyway.” You shifted your body sideways to rest yourself on your headboard.

“Who?” His brows furrowed, and his head tilted.

“Nobody.” You rolled your eyes, you grabbed a book from your nightstand, and flipped through it.

You weren’t truly reading the book, just needed something to shift your focus to, to look more careless.

“But..but you just said-.” He stood up from the position he was in, and stepped away from the bed.

You could tell he was silently raging.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter who.” You frowned, shrugging, still flipping through the book.

“Okay. okay, So that’s how our relationships gonna be?” He threw his hands up. “I..I make a mistake, and you get a ride home with some guy?”

“Never said it was a guy.” You said nonchalantly, and shrugged once more.

“But the way you said it, I assume it was.” He was frustrated by the way you so carelessly flipped the pages in the book, and it was obvious you weren’t actually reading it.

“But I never said it was. So maybe don’t assume?”

“Was it a guy, y/n, tell the truth.” He stepped forward, taking the book from your hands, and placing it back where you got it from. “Pay attention to me, not some goddamn book, y/n”

You looked up when he took the book, looking offended as if you were enjoying it.

“It doesn’t matter. I had to do, what I had to do to get home in time to make my curfew.”

He threw his head back, now annoyed at the fact you wouldn’t give him a straight answer.

He sat on the edge of the bed, looking exhausted from the dodged question. “I won’t get mad, okay?”

You gave a light chuckle. “I don’t care about you getting mad. You have no right to be mad, I’m the one that got ditched tonight, Topper.” You pushed yourself off the bed and went over to your window, that was still open. “I’m not just gonna forgive you. Not this time.” You gestured towards the window for him to leave with a serious expression on your face.

He had a sorry look on his face, but you didn’t fold; you couldn’t fold. He had done this before, and letting him get off scot-free would’ve given him the ‘go’ to continue doing it.

When he noticed you weren’t folding he walked passed you, and left the same way he’d come in, feeling defeated.

You couldn’t lie, arguing with him and lying to him hurt, even if you had spoke to him nonchalantly. That’s just how you were. You’d act like it didn’t hurt your feelings as much as it did, then after he’d leave you’d cry yourself to sleep, but this night was different. Ranting to Rafe had eased your mind tremendously, you never thought he could ever be a good listener, maybe because he looked like he’d only be interested in talking about himself.

But he’d listened to you, and that was something Topper rarely ever did. Rafe listening to you felt good. You felt bad, comparing your boyfriend to his best friend, but you couldn’t help but think about the way Rafe looked at you in the passenger seat, and the way your stomach fluttered when he did.

Were you a shitty person for what you’d been thinking about?

Maybe.

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p3sephone · 2 years

Text

I did it for love.

Summary: you worked in a little shop, making cupcakes and coffee every day. Soon you meet your new client, but you don’t know what awaits you.

Warnings: manipulation, some tension (nah, not the positive one). This serie is going to have very dark themes, so if you don’t like it don’t read. If you’re aminor do not read, only +18.

Note: covid-19 is kinda a bitch right now. Also the whole day was mostly shitty.

Words: 1206.

Serie masterlist.

You nibbled your nails lightly, looking at the tablet display under the counter. You were lucky enough to have a steady job, a small apartment and studies in which you worked so hard. You had a little dream, in the ordinary, nothing special. But you wanted to make it happen at all costs.

It was almost lunchtime and there was that small period of time where strangely very few customers came to the store. This meant that you could take short authorized breaks: you made sure there were no customers waiting, and then you constantly updated your inbox. A few days ago you took the most complicated exam of the whole course, already known for its difficulty. You had lost count of how many times you thanked Wanda that day for explaining different concepts to you. You had spent several hours together and promised her that to repay her trouble you would offer her a good lunch. You hated being in debt to people, but even more hated constantly reloading your inbox and not seeing any results. The teacher had been clear about the short times of correcting the assignments, and you had trusted those words. You heard the classic bell hanging near the front door ring, so you immediately dropped your tablet and concentrated on the door. That hint of annoyance you felt when your business was shut down completely vanished from Wanda's vision. She had the same hairstyle, same long red hair pulled into a braid with a warm smile on her. "Hi, how can I help you?" you offered almost jokingly and she returned that same tone, leaning on the counter. "I wanted to ask you how the exam went." "Well, as soon as I get the results I'll let you know." you retorted with slight despair, and then offered her a menu. She quickly refused, straightening up and looking into her eyes. "I know someone has the day off today." she started joking, but you already knew what she was referring to. You raised your eyebrows curiously. Actually there was little time to disconnect and you had promised yourself to offer her lunch, but you didn't think so soon. But it wasn't a problem, in fact it coincided perfectly with your plans. If you had passed this complicated exam the others would have been even easier, but that didn't mean letting go: you had to study and work, every single day. And sadly you barely had time for yourself, so you could have dedicated today to Wanda and her return of favor. The hour passed quickly and Wanda had a simple coffee. You hated to admit it but you started to feel uncomfortable with her eyes constantly on you: it was as if she didn't even do it on purpose, but you noticed it all too well. When closing time came your employer gave you the green light to go without doing the usual little extras, which he never did. When she told you that you almost laughed in his face and that's when you almost noticed a red glow in their eyes. You walked away abruptly, only to hear your employer ask if you were okay. You giggled nervously, pulling away from the counter you leaned on and looking at the candle lit behind him. That had to be it. You snorted as you grabbed your bag and tablet. You had to stop being so anxious and paranoid. "So, where are we going?" - You gave Wanda free choice of where to eat for lunch, and she decided on a small place of all. It was a lovely place with quality food and a completely green location, full of plants and with various small paintings hanging. It would have been the perfect place to study, but Wanda was thinking of something else. When you ordered your food she started talking, curious about your life. "So you work and study at the same time... it must be very heavy for you, right?" it sounded more like a statement than a question, and to be honest you were ready to go on the defensive. Many thought that it was impossible for you to do all this at the same time, because "you were not capable". You made them change your mind and then you left them behind, but those questions still stiffen you. And so you stiffened even then, coughing lightly and cracking a smile. "Yes, after all it's the only way to be able to fulfill myself, isn't it?" "I understand you, you know... but sometimes you can't really reach dreams." You just thought you heard that part by mistake, because the second after you saw her smiling, kind and caring. Like a few days ago. Yet your whole being was beginning to feel uncomfortable. "Uh then, how did you know all those things? Oh, especially the curiosities you told me about plants." you suddenly brightened up, trying to think of something else. She giggled again when the plates came from the waiter. She took them both and thanked him, handing you your order. He then resumed the conversation. "I have a garden, I really like plants and take care of them. Especially the more fragile ones, you know? And yet I have the impression that their conditions never improve." she began to fiddle with her food, casually taking a few bites. On the other hand, you were very hungry and forced yourself to slow down just to keep her company. You didn't know why, but at that moment Wanda was making you particularly uncomfortable and you didn't want to overwhelm her attention. Yet, there in the club where she works, it seemed to you that her attention was on you regardless. "It must be really nice to have a garden, I was hoping to find an apartment with a small space to dedicate to plants. Now I understand why you know so much." you giggled, trying again to restore that familiar comfortable atmosphere. "If you want you can visit it." You have completely stiffened, almost sliding the fork out of her hands. Your nervous gaze slowly passed from her plate to her eyes, now fixed on your pupils. "How?" "You can visit my garden whenever you want." she offered you a gentle smile, yet the magic seemed to end. You slowly shook your head, taking another bite. "I don't think I would have the time, besides... we have known each other for a few days, well-" "I certainly don't mean to kill you, it's just for the garden." Her comment put you on the defensive again and at the same time she made you feel bad. You knew you had a solid point, yet it was as if the sense of gratitude you felt against yourself was twisting. As if she meant "I helped you, so I'm a good person and you treat me badly". The rest of the meal was a total failure and the tension was so horrible that you didn't wait for her to finish eating. At the same time, you got up and paid the bill, letting him finish eating in total silence. In one way or another everything was ruined and you would never see her again.

#dark wanda maximoff #dark wanda #dark! wanda #dark! wanda maximoff #dark wanda maximoff x reader #dark! wanda maximoff x reader #dark! wanda x reader #dark scarlet witch #dark! scarlet witch x reader #yandere wanda maximoff #yandere scarlet witch #dark avengers #dark marvel

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hobbithabits · 9 months

Text

Feeling ✨whimsical and gay✨ so that means short Spones fiction

Leonard McCoy is a grown man–one with a child and an ex-wife–as well as a doctor, and he knows how to control himself. Of course, it means absolutely nothing when your two closest friends can read you like the first letter of an eye exam with 20/20 vision. Especially Spock. The bastard.

Even so, Leonard has gone this long with his stupid secret kept to his chest, and he won’t give it up now that things have shifted. For the first time, Idiot #1 and Know-It-All Prime listened to his medical advice, and they’ve put more effort into actually relaxing. As soon as their shift is over, they step away and do something that gets their mind off of never-ending space.

(Jim insists Leonard is the only one on the entire ship that thinks that way, but everyone and their momma knows that the vastness of existence is terrifying no matter who you are.)

Their compliance gave them more time to spend together as friends instead of coworkers. Jim and Spock play chess for one or two hours nearly every full day cycle. Leonard doesn’t allow himself the same comfort, because being a doctor means being a workaholic (a hypocrite). He spends his time with Jim normally, because he and Spock don’t really hang out on Leonard’s request. If they did, the Vulcan would see right through him like always.

He and Jim do their thing, and then their lovely captain ditches him to play chess. It’s starting to be routine. Except now there’s been some kind of change, because after Jim heads off to change into comfier clothes before meeting with Spock, the green devil walks into the conference room they had occupied.

Leonard doesn’t even have his mouth all the way open before Spock is speaking to him, standing just inside the doorway.

“Doctor, there is something I must discuss with you that I believe will be in your best interest.” Spock has that stupid standard rigidness to him that makes Leonard’s brain squirm. His face, as always, reveals nothing.

“Shoot.” Leonard replies carelessly, before correcting himself, “I mean go ahead. I’m listening.”

Spock doesn’t miss a single beat and begins with no preamble, “In the past week I’ve noticed a change in your mood concerning Jim and I’s time spent together. You could be described as ‘stand-offish’ or perhaps passively aggressive in our interactions concerning Jim, and Jim has noticed a sort of displeasure from you when he leaves to play our games.

“I’ve concluded that you are possibly feeling some sort of envy for our relationship, or even a jealously of me in having Jim’s attention. I wanted to assure to you that the captain and I are simply friends, though close ones, and that Jim would happily spend more time with you if you simply asked him. The same applies for me, if you wish for it.” When Spock is done, he waits patiently for a response, as if he hadn’t just called someone out completely.

Leonard wants to dig a deep hole and hide in it until he dies. He was foolish to think any of the smaller details like that would get past Spock. For such an emotionless bastard, he understands plenty about everyone else’s emotion state. He hates when Spock is right. But technically, he’s wrong too.

Spock is under the assumption that Leonard wants something more from Jim. Leonard wants /everything/ more from Spock. His silence is telling, and he surely has some stupid look on his face that the Vulcan understands, but he can’t let Spock be right. It isn’t in his nature to let the wrong get past him. He opens his stupid mouth before he can think it through.

“You’re wrong. Well, you’re kinda right in the general idea, but you’ve got the details all wrong.” Leonard stands so he can make a quick escape after he’s done being an ass. He closes the large distance between the two of them but wouldn’t dare go too close, so Spock can’t grasp exactly what he means. “I am jealous of you and Jim spending time together. You’re my friends so of course I’ll wanna see you when you aren’t with me.

“It’s just that I’m not jealous of you, thinking you’re together. I’m jealous of him. I am /green/ over the fact that it’s so easy for him to be close to you. I want it for myself. The easiness, the comfort, your attention.

I want you but I won’t have you.”

Spock, for once, is stunned and curious but doesn’t raise an eyebrow. He’s thinking hard, and Leonard can see the gears moving in the twitch of his mouth. It makes him want.

The idiot part of his brain, the part that makes him so ridiculously emotional switches on right then. Then suddenly, Leonard is striding up to Spock, and curling his fingers around the Vulcan’s palm that lies limp by his side. He kisses Spock square on the mouth, and pours every single inch of his thought into the touch, so he can engrave the moment in his mind for after it’s gone forever. It lingers just a millisecond too long for Leonard to completely detach himself from how good it feels. But then it’s over and Leonard is running off with his tail between his legs all the way to his room.

He doesn’t look back and he tries so hard not to think about how open Spock felt in that moment. He fails. He doesn’t answer his door and he doesn’t leave until his next shift starts. It’ll be fine.

#star trek #star trek tos #spock #jim kirk #bones mccoy #leonard mccoy #spones #gay people #!!!#i love gay people #Leonard is stupid and bad at controlling himself but that’s what makes him tragically perfect #I love them #this was fun #I’ll try more #keeps the whimsy going

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intergalacticaquarium · 2 years

Text

Part 7- Sweet Dreams

Eddie Munson x soon-to-be-step!Henderson! female original character

Summary: After a long day of waiting Sam and Eddie decide to get some sleep, and Eddie has a strange dream.

Contents: only one bed kinda, a weird and maybe too long dream sequence!, one of those dreams that's sexy but in a weird and confusing way, snuggling, y'know. the good shit but also with a very weird dream sequence in the middle I cannot stress this enough.

3k words

(Series masterpost/chapter links here!)

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

The rest of the day was spent sober and contemplative, going in and out between casual companionship, intense fear, watching some VHS tapes that have certainly racked up quite the late fee, horrible grief, fear, grief, a stray thought of what exactly did Eddie mean when he said she could call him baby any day, worry, fear, grief. It went like that in cycles, sometimes happy to pretend it was any other day, but more often than not an unknown force would interrupt their contentment and have their new reality actually wash over them.

They didn’t know when the sun had set.

She saw Eddie dozing off for a few minutes at a time and scolded himself every time. After the third time he shook his head wildly to keep himself awake, she put her foot down.

“C’mon- we need to get some rest.” She said, and he seemed hesitant.

“Uh, sure. I’ll take the couch, I guess?” He said, looking around anxiously, like he was afraid to sleep.

“Why? There’s a bed.”

He stared at her like he was putting something together. “Right. There’s…one bed.”

‘Why would that be a problem?” She asked like she couldn’t understand what his problem was.

He leaned back, now fully awake. “When you said ‘in your dreams’ I didn’t think that just meant I had to wait until night time.” he said, trying to be funny while being thrown for a loop, and seeing a funny little glint in his eye that let him know he was missing something.

“I meant that one of us should probably stay awake to keep watch.” She said, a little smugly. He was embarrassed for a moment but when he saw the little smirk on his face he knew she had done it on purpose and the delight he usually felt around her set in once again.

“I knew that. I just needed to know that you knew the offer was on the table.” He said, standing up and putting his hands on his hips. He was only a few inches taller than her but this close it felt like he was looming over her, looking down so that she was his entire field of vision.

“I’d say the offer was on the bed, actually.” She said flatly, and he smiled, backing up without breaking eye contact until he got to the bedroom, when he finally looked away, and walked in.

It only took a few minutes of being alone in that dark little room before he was involuntarily stepping backwards, hoping he was able to pass it off as his normal physicality. What he saw when he came back into the hallway was Samantha, closer to the door than she was before, frozen in place where he had seen her.

They both stammered an explanation for their presence, embarrassed only until they accepted that they were both going to say the same thing, and she wordlessly followed him into the room.

He pulled off his stupid moon shoes and flopped down on the bed, and she did the same with her boots, sitting up against the headboard. He rolled over and his head was level with her hip, his huge eyes glancing up at her.

“Not gonna lay down here with me? It’s pretty comfy. I can tell that you’re sleepy, Sam.” He said in what Sam deigned the sleepiest voice anybody had ever tried to sound flirty in.

“I meant what I said about keeping watch. I don’t want to be caught unawares.” She said, and realized that her hand had made it’s way to her hair, and in his sleepy state Eddie had started to rub his face on the fabric of her flannel shirt like a cat.

“I can keep watch first.” He murmured, and she could tell he was already half asleep.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” She murmured, unconsciously carding a hand through his hair.

“Get some rest, Eddie.” She whispered, and it was the last thing he heard before he drifted off.

In your dreams. Is what she had told him before, and for the most part that wasn’t an exaggeration. Since he started smoking weed his freshman year he hadn’t remembered many dreams, only emerging as the weirdest ones which were always labyrinthian in complexity and exhausting.

But in Eddie’ current dream state all he could hear so far was an old jazz standard as he walked down a misty hallway that he was pretty sure was the highschool, but with more stone pillars. He heard Sam’s familiar heavy footsteps, always dragging her lug boots a bit, and he pursued the sound. He didn’t know why he needed to find her so badly, to get to her before anything bad could happen.

He rounded the corner and flew through the doors to see himself in the middle of what seemed like a pit with stadium seating with three silhouetted figures sitting regally on the edge.

The light lowered and he saw Sam sitting in the middle, adorned in an elaborate gown fit for a queen with a crown to match and a grand and commanding cepter that made it unmistakable that she was in charge.

When Eddie looked to her right he stumbled backwards in fear. It was Chrissy, polished and perfect as ever, her timid smile glancing at him down in the pit and back to Sam, and on her left side was the other one. Hovering above the ground with bones dangling loosely like windchimes. He felt sick, and tried to look away, but Samantha’s commanding voice made him spin back around.

“Edward Heironymous Munson-” She boomed downward, and Eddie wasn’t sure if he should tell her that that wasn’t his middle name.

“You are being charged with the mulitation and murder of Chrissy Cunningham.” She said smugly, and his face blanched.

“I didn’t do it, Sam- I swear, you gotta believe you. You said you believed me!” the words bubbled out of him in panic.

“I mean, yeah, I said that- but that was before I saw her. Look at her Eddie! That’s the most fucked up thing I’ve ever seen.” She said in her usual dry tone that had never struck him as scary before.

“Eddie. Look at her.” Her voice said, now booming and menacing, and he forced himself to look at the eyeless face of Chrissy’s broken body, while her whole form looked on with a little pout.

“We hereby pronounce you…GUILTY.” Her voice shook the halls of the pit and he screamed his innocence as the guards dragged him off to jail.

They threw him into the jail cell and he could hear monsters in the dark all around him, screams of his friends audible in the background.

“Frère. Ça va?” He heard from behind him and he groaned at the increasing complexity of the situation he found himself in when he saw Sam was sitting at a little cafe table in a beret and a black turtleneck, smoking out of one of those long cigarette holders, inexplicably speaking another language and looking like she was about to go to a poetry reading.

“Assez trippant, hein?” She asked softly, and he shook his head, wishing the real Sam was here so he could feel grounded again. He felt a hand gently card through his hair and he spun around to see nobody there.

“Nous ne faisons que commencer, j'en ai peur.” She said, and he turned back to her to see her shrug.

“Look, I don’t understand you, okay?” He complained, getting more and more agitated, bouncing on his heels and wishing he could go back to…wherever he was before where he felt safe, with a warm hand in his hair and warm fabric against his face and a gentle hum of somebody he cared for.

“I said- are you okay, dude?” She said dryly, and he could’ve cried in relief.

“Of course not! I’m in jail because a monster killed a girl in front of me and then she sentenced me to life in the dungeons!” He said, panicking.

“Yeah. Plus, those two are, like, headed straight for second base.” She said, obviously annoyed and gesturing to the space behind Eddie that had been empty when he looked before, but this time when he turned he saw something so surprising he turned his eyes and turned around out of common decency.

“Yeah, we can’t hear us. I don’t think we even know that we’re here, so it doesn’t matter if you look or talk.” Sam said, and he turned around again to see the back who was unmistakably Samantha Campbell passionately making out with somebody he couldn’t see from this angle. He steadfastly ignored the jealousy that shot through him and tried to get her attention to no avail. He slowly began to walk to the other side of the room- if he was going to be forced to see it he may as well know who he was dreaming about.

As he got to the side he was shocked to see that it was him. Samantha Campbell and Eddie Munson were straight up dry humping and grinding on the desk now, and Eddie was a little bit transfixed. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at the way her hands clutched at the collar of his vest, and how his fingers indented into her skin as he slid her shirt up her sides. He wasn’t sure if he was jealous, exactly, well, he was, but only because he was this version of him and not that one. But at the same time he was kind of glad that he wasn’t that version, because he didn’t think he’d appreciate the audience.

“You can just turn around if it’s too weird, you know.” Poetry Slam Sam offered, but she made no motion to avert her eyes. “I’m just here to see what you think my tits look like.” she explained, and he nodded, as if in understanding. The Eddie that was quickly shedding his many layers began to undress his Sam as Poet Sam craned her neck to get a look. When she saw the speculatory tits she made a fair enough face and sat back.

“Were…they…good?” He asked, uncomfortable at having to discuss his imagination’s antics with another person, regardless of their own imaginary status. To distract himself he took the cup of coffee and the cigarette on the table waiting for him. Sam shrugged.

“No idea. I’m also a dream, that’s why I was curious” She said, finally looking away from the two of them.

“Ohhhh, this is a dream. That makes way more sense.” He said, very relieved. “So I’m not really in jail, right? I’m back with you in the lake house?” He asked, nervous all of a sudden that she was lying and this reality was his new one.

“Who’s in jail? We’re at the Starcourt Mall.”

He glanced back at the couple, now both fully without clothes and stretched out on the floor of the former food court, no longer feeling weird about looking if he made them up in the first place.

“You’re just gonna stare at them?” Poetry Slam Sam asked judgmentally, and Eddie looked back at her helplessly.

“You were just looking!” He said, and she raised her eyebrows and turned away, silently sipping her coffee. “Oh don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you at all.”

“No, you’re looking at them- and they’re- oh, woah, okay.” He said, a little surprised at the sudden progression.

“Yeah, they’re really going at it, huh?” She said in dry mild interest.

“Should we go somewhere else? I feel like we should give them some privacy.” He said, glancing at Poetry Slam Sam, though most of him just wished that she would go away so this could become a more straightforward dreaming experience.

“Ooh, Scoops Ahoy. Let’s get some ice cream.” She quickly got up and walked away from the other set of them, which Eddie took one last glance at over his shoulder and wished that he had gotten that role in the dream instead of the weird ice cream voyeur hanging out with Andy Worhol.

“Eddie?” Sam asked in a whisper. “Eddie, are you awake?”

“No, you just told me this is a dream.” He said, taking the four scoop cones and tried it, finding the flavor of ennui to be very strange.

“Eddie, wake up.” She said, more urgently now.

“Wait, why?”

“Because you’re not gonna want to see this.” Sam said comfortingly, and he looked at her with a cock of his head.

“What do you…” he started, but it was clear when her feet began to rise ever so slightly off the ground.

“Sam- Sam- no nononono- get back down here.” He said, grabbing her hand as she got higher up by the moment. He screamed in terror and misery when her bones began to snap one by one.

“Eddie!” She said in fear as her eyes exploded and fell to the ground. He collapsed next to her body and sobbed, wishing he could stop hearing his own name in the background. He wanted her to be okay, but the way her body felt in his arms was wrong, the angles and sharp points disturbing and all he could do was hyperventilate and cry.

“Eddie- Eddie, wake up!” Sam whispered, and as he blearily opened his eyes to see her concerned face, he was instantly awake and holding her close to him. She tensed up in surprise but he still didn’t let go, even as the understanding that it was just a dream washed over him in relief. They were still in danger, but they still had a chance.

“Eddie- are you okay?” She whispered, patting him awkwardly on the arm. He pulled back and stared at her with his huge sad brown eyes that filled with relief when he met hers.

“Yeah. Sorry, just a bad dream.” He said, already beginning to forget the details and was left only with a sense of dread that was only countered by the feeling of her in his arms. She was okay.

“Yeah it sounded like it. You talk in your sleep a little, you know that?” She asked, and his face turned a little red.

“Anything interesting?” He asked, preparing for embarrassment.

“Not really. The only thing I could really make out was Guilty and ice cream.” She said, and he looked at her in confusion. “Then you started screaming.” she said matter-of-factly.

“I was screaming?”

“Just a little bit. Also I wanted to get some rest. Seemed like as good a time as any to wake you up.” She shrugged, and he nodded, still sort of out of it.

“Hey, Sam?” He asked in the dark room, and she answered with a hm? But he didn't know what he wanted to say in the first place. “I just…” he tried again, and he could see her tilt her head. There were so many things he wanted to say, I’m glad you’re not dead chief among them, but he wasn’t sure how to bring that up.

But before he had to they heard the unmistakable sound of a car door closing.

They both scrambled to the floor when they heard the door to the house open, only stopping for long enough to grab their shoes.

“He’s gotta be here somewhere.” She heard Jason say from the house, followed by loud sounds of rummaging. She swallowed hard and grabbed Eddie’s hand for bravery as they slipped out the bedroom window onto the forest floor, trying to silently get down to the boathouse.

Halfway down they saw a silhouette pass by the window and pause. Without thinking Sam grabbed Eddie and pulled him close to her behind a tree, and his arms instinctively wrapped around her protectively. She could feel his heartbeat where she had her hands on his chest, and it was getting faster.

They kept going until they got to the bottom of the steps and into the boathouse, exhaling in relief. Sam quickly took the tarp off the boat and untied it, hurrying Eddie in while they both started to row.

They saw the three basketball players coming down the steps in their crisps suits and spot them, and Eddie scrambled towards the engine.

“Sam, they can see us.” He said in a panicked whisper as he frantically groped at the engine to find the cord and when he did he pulled it over and over to try and start it. “It’s not turning on.” she could hear the pitch of his voice rising and she couldn’t blame him from being terrified of the two men swimming at them full speed.

“Give it up and start rowing!” She yelled, and he did so clumsily.

They weren’t going to get far, their nerves too high for enough coordination to row the damn thing. Eddie was hysterically murmuring something under his breath, getting louder as they got closer.

“If something happens and we get separated, meet me at Skull Rock. It’s close by.” She said quietly, and he looked at her, terrified.

“Skull Rock? I think I know where it is- but what do you mean get separated? Why would we get separated?” He tried to shriek in a whisper.

“Just, shit--shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” Sam said, and tried to row faster, and Eddie turned around to see Jason a few feet away.

“Row faster!” Sam screamed.

But they didn’t get far before something happened, and the other boy rose into the air, followed by all of his bones snapping one by one. Sam stared up, horrified and Eddie screamed, trying to get away but only managing to tip the boat and throw them both into the water.

Sam was underwater at lovers lake, she could see the moon above the surface of the water, so what was the red light emerging at the bottom? She floated for a moment staring at it until her eyes began to burn and she tore them away to swim upward. But no sooner had she spotted the moon from underwater, did something wrap around her angle and pull, hard, dragging her into the red light.

tag list (let me know if you want me to add you)

@youngflower @nostandards94 @simonsbluee

@koroktsuya @kriffingstars

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #my writing

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hqmillioncorn · 9 months

Text

FFXIVWrite Day Three (freeday): insomnia

"Slept well last night did you?" Hades asked Babycorn. He wasn't all that happy that he had to be the one to look for and then fetch their missing companion. "You must be her familiar. If you can sleep in such uncomfortable places like that." Babycorn yawned and kept walking ahead of Hades. Even if she did finally get a good nights rest yesterday she was still a little sleepy. "Thanks for finding me Emmy." she mumbled.

It turns out that there was not much of a difference between Elpis in the daytime to Elpis at night. Babycorn figured that most of the Concepts would be asleep by now but to her disappointment most of them were still roaming about, ready to attack her at any moment's notice.

“Does everyone work all day?” Babycorn asked no one in particular, “Sounds kinda boring…”

Since she was all alone with no weapon on her, Babycorn made sure to avoid walking too deep into any areas with them. Which was surprising she was managing to do while not really paying to where she was going at the same time.

She had no idea how far she had walked but considering Babycorn could still see the little building she was offered a place to sleep in-she must not have walked that far.

Babycorn let out a sigh and decided she didn’t walk anymore, she sat down onto the grassy ground and hugged her legs closer to her, leaning her head on them.

It made sense, she was exhausted. So much had happened today. Traveling to the past, meeting Hades and Hythlodaeus, being tasked with the job of finding out what happened to Hermes. She was so tired.

Before she knew it, or could do anything about it, Babycorn’s eyes began to close.

“Mmmaybe…I…”

Darkness slowly began to overtake her vision.

Unfortunately like the countless other times she had tried earlier today, the peaceful silence didn’t last long.

Visions of fire falling against a dark sky. The deafening sounds of people screaming all around her. Shadows all around her, calling her a monster over and over and over again. Her own baby brother taking hold of someone and slowly raising them up to their mouth and-

“STOP!!” Babycorn screamed, thrashing her body around violently, trying to fight back against the imaginary enemies in her head. They weren’t real. She knew this. Babycorn paused, just to end up almost crying again. “...Just stop it…Please just leave me alone…” She wanted desperately to close her eyes and drift off to sleep, to forget this whole mess even happened.

Something deep inside her just wanted to take her memory of the whole thing and rip it right out of her.

“Wow! It’s a beautiful night out isn’t it?”

“WaAAaaAA?!” Babycorn let out a yelp and fell back in shock. “W-Who’s there?!” She was sure that she hadn’t been followed by anyone the entire time. Maybe someone had seen her walking around and decided to follow her?! Hopefully it wasn’t someone bad, she was pretty much defenseless…

To Babycorn’s sorta-relief it was actually someone she had briefly met before. “It’s meeeee!!” the doll said in a high-pitched tone, “Your best friend Sicily! At your service!” A burst of glitter exploded behind Sicily and Babycorn couldn’t tell if that was real or if she had hit her head just a little too hard when she fell.

Sicily paused her introduction to bend over and help Babycorn sit up again. “Up and at em’! You don’t wanna get any grass stains on your pretty white robe!” She advised. Unfortunately it was a little too late for that at this point for Babycorn but the effort was still appreciated.

Sicily took the time to dust Babycorn off. Poor Babycorn was too tired to tell her she didn’t really have to bother doing that. “By the way…” She walked all around Babycorn in a circle, examining her from head to toe, “Where’s the outfit me and Venice gave you? You looked sooooooo cute in it earlier!!” Sicily sniffled and though she was incapable of actual tears on account of being a doll, one look at her face at the moment would have you thinking otherwise.

Babycorn hesitated to answer. The truth of the whole thing was that she had taken it off shortly after parting ways with Sicily and Venice. Since they had both told her they would be leaving soon Babycorn had figured there would be no real danger to not wearing it. Besides people doubting her story of being Azem’s familiar but people seemed to believe it with or without the outfit.

“Umm…” Babycorn nervously looked around for anything that could help her in this situation. Ultimately it all came down to her. She nervously tapped two of her fingers together and looked down, “Its cause…These are my pajamas…? It wasn’t entirely a lie. Wearing this robe was really comfy and felt more like wearing a blanket than a usual robe did.

Sicily’s eyes instantly lit up. “Ooooohh!! And since you’re out here you didn’t want to get your clothes we gave you dirty so you’re wearing pajamas instead!!! Ooooh!! Babycorn!!!” In an instant her ragdoll arms were wrapped all around Babycorn in a tight hug.

“AAAuHHHauccK?!?!” Babycorn felt herself being lifted off the ground but weirdly enough it wasn’t too tight a hug. It must have come with the whole thing of Sicily being a soft ragdoll.

Sicily swayed Babycorn in her arms from side to side. “You’re so smart!! And so cute!!” she let out another squeal and finally set Babycorn down on solid ground, “I’m so lucky to have a little sister as adorable as you!!”

“L-Little sister…?”

Babycorn had heard both Sicily and Venice refer to each other as siblings but she must have somehow missed the part where they called her a sibling too. Maybe she had too much on her mind at the time?

Sicily grinned, “Little sister!! Maize all made us so we’re all family of course!! That’s what she told us!”

“Oh, cool…” Sounds like something Cherry would-

“And families have to help each other when they caaaan! Which is why…” Sicily sat down and crossed her legs in between each other in a knot. She patted the ground next to her for Babycorn to sit down next to her. “Which is why I’m here to help you!” Her eyes sparkled with a hint of red to them.

“Help me? With what?”

There were a lot of things that Babycorn needed help with. But she couldn’t think of any way that Sicily could help with any of them. Unless this doll somehow was privy to some secrets about Hermes or something.

“You’ve been having trouble sleeping tonight!”

“H-Huh…?!” Babycorn was so caught off guard by Sicily’s correct guess that she didn’t have the foresight to deny her accusation.

Sicily covered her mouth and let out a loud giggle. “Don’t try to hide it and pretend everythings okay! We can tell! Because I’m having trouble sleeping too!” Sicily stood up from where she was sitting and rested her hand on Babycorn’s shoulder.

“And we know it's because of you.”

There was something chilling about Sicily’s voice. Babycorn didn’t like it.

“How do you-?”

“Oh, I can always tell.”

Babycorn heard another unfamiliar voice behind her. As soon as she had, Sicily froze and fell to the ground in front of her. Like a toy that someone decided they were done playing with. Babycorn let out a scream and stepped back, kicking Sicily away from her. Sicily did not react at all, her eyes were blank and she was as still as a corpse.

Before Babycorn could turn around and run away she bumped right into someone, which caused her to fall backwards right onto Sicily.

Babycorn panicked and tried to get away, only to trip over herself and Sicily over and over again. Until she felt someone grab her by her foot and lift her up. Even being upside down she could tell who it was that was holding her up.

Even if they’ve never met before.

“Azem…”

‘Azem’ smiled at Babycorn. Or did she frown? Babycorn really couldn’t tell from her upside down vantage point.

“That’s my title! Don’t wear it out!” Azem grabbed hold of one of Babycorn’s hands in an attempt to flip her back up, when she did that Babycorn could finally tell that she was smiling. “But you can call me Maize! I don’t mind!” Maize lowered Babycorn onto the ground and gave her a small pat on the head.

Babycorn struggled to find the right things to say that wouldn’t get her exposed as being from the future and also a part of Azem’s broke of pieces of the future. “Um…? I thought you were supposed to be somewhere else? You know? Being somewhere that isn’t here?” It was something she had overheard Hades and Hythlodaeus talking about.

That would surely raise no suspicions.

Maize laughed nervously to herself for a bit. “I-I was! But I heard word that there was a new familiar of mine roaming around Elpis! And helping Emmy and Hihi too!” Babycorn guessed that Emmy and Hihi must have been nicknames for Hades and Hythlodaeus. Maize leaned in closer to Babycorn until she was staring down at her, “A familiar of mine I have no memory of creating.” Her stare was pretty damning.

“I-I-Is that so? Haha…” Babycorn’s days were numbered, she was so sure of it. This was the end.

But in a move that could both be described as unexpected and a relief, Maize stood straight up and clasped her hands together in a smile. “And so I headed right back because I just needed to see the new cutie I made!! Don’t tell Emmy and Hihi though! They would never let me live it down! Teehee!”

Creating dolls in her sleep was nothing new for Maize. It just so happened that most of the sleep created ones happened to be more of a nuisance for everyone involved in contrast to the more friendly ones. So when word had reached her of a new doll taking Elpis by storm, she couldn’t resist making the trip.

Babycorn’s relief was very short-lived as it was replaced by a mild panic when Maize suddenly rushed up to her and grabbed hold of her face.

“Mmmmpppph?!?!” Just what was this lady doing?!

Maize ignored Babycorn’s scowl and simply continued to examine her. “Oooooh! Just look at you!! Your cheeks are so cute and full! And are those freckles I see?! How adorable! And your hair has the same color and consistency as Sicily and Venice.” She paused to laugh to herself about something, “I wonder if your hair would taste the same when boiled and covered in spaghetti sauce?”

“Excuse meeee?!”

Was she going to be the one being eaten instead?!

“Never mind all that!” Maize waved Babycorn’s worries away and turned Babycorn’s head to the side. “Omigoooosh!! Look at your ears! They’re so different!! I wonder why?” Turning Babycorn’s head to face her again, Maize noticed something else. “And…Your eyes…They’re the same color as…!” She let out a loud gasp and covered her cheeks in embarrassment.

Babycorn decided to ignore whatever her ancient was doing and rubbed at her face.

“It wasn’t my imagination then…was it? This doll's texture feels like nothing I’ve ever felt before…” Maize continued to mumble to herself, all while walking in a circle. “Almost as if…as if…”

Babycorn froze.

“As if…You’re not a doll.”

“I…um…”

There wasn’t really anything Babycorn could say in her defense. And running away screaming at the top of her lungs wasn’t a viable option either. There was nowhere to run!

Maize looked down at her, though the ancient was considered short by this world’s standard it didn’t make a difference to Babycorn, she still towered over her. As most things did.

Babycorn looked up to meet Maize’s one uncovered eye. It was a bright red. Which did not help in making this entire situation any less scarier.

“You’re alive. A living concept. Just like most things here, aren’t you?”

Babycorn remained silent. Mostly out of fear rather than necessity.

“Which means…”

“Which means??”

“Which means you must be me and Emmy’s daughter from the future?!?!” Maize let out a maniacal laugh and twirled around in place, “Kyaaaaaaaa!! You’re even cuter than I imagined you’d beeee!!!!”

“NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Babycorn let out a scream so loud that it was almost a shock that it didn’t wake up everyone in the nearby vicinity. It did scare a couple of birds from their trees though.

As soon as Babycorn finished screaming Maize frowned. “Aww…Guess I was wrong…” She was more than a little heartbroken about the fact that she was not talking to her and Hades’ future daughter but she would get over it. Surely this didn’t mean that they weren’t any less destined to be together.

Maize knelt down to Babycorn’s level and brushed some of her loose hairs down. She noticed that her hair was a mess and the bags under her eyes were worse than her own. Not only that, her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had just been crying. Maize was more than familiar with that look.

Babycorn simply looked right at her. The rush of despair of being called Emet-Selch’s daughter still running through her mind. Coupled with the actual realization that she was face to face with her ancient who wanted a child with Emet-Selch had rendered her completely speechless at the moment.

“You must have been so lonely out there.” Maize gently set her hand on Babycorn’s head. “I’m sorry I created you and left you alone for so long.” Had she known she created her, Maize would have canceled her trip and stayed to shower Babycorn with gifts and affection as long as she could.

“It's a scary world out there. Isn’t it?”

Babycorn was still quiet, speechless. Though this time it was because Maize’s hand was resting on her head. It was a nice feeling. A feeling that Babycorn always secretly wished that people would give her.

A warm touch to hold her that everything was going to be okay.

“To journey out there, to places you hardly know with people you can’t trust, I wouldn’t blame you for being so scared of it all.”

Babycorn raised her hands up and grabbed Maize’s wrist, just to make sure that she wouldn’t let go.

“Losing people is never easy and it never gets any easier. Then to continue living on for them like nothing ever happened? You don’t know how to do that, do you?”

Babycorn shook her head.

“Aww, sweetie I’m so sorry! I wish there was something I could have done. But I think it's a little too late for me to do anything…”

“It’s okay…”

Maize adjusted her hand “For now. I’ll just relieve you of your worst one!”

Babycorn’s hands let go of Maize as her arms fell to her side. In an instant, Maize removed her hand, a long glowing thread was attached to the end of her index finger. It wasn’t too long of a thread but it glowed so bright it looked like it was almost on fire. Interlaced around it was another thread, much longer than the first.

Maize wordlessly moved the thread around in the shape of a circle. From there she could see the memories stored inside of it, all from Babycorn’s point of view. It was a nightmare from what she could see, but the most confusing thing about it was Babycorn’s sympathy for the monsters tearing people apart.

“Haha! Ew, gross.” was Maize’s only reaction to the whole thing. No wonder her poor little doll hadn’t been able to sleep. “Let’s take care of this!” With a flick of her hand the string collapsed right into her hand alongside the extra one.

Then in an instant and with a clap of her hand, Maize turned the memories into nothing more than dust that she mindlessly sprinkled into the ground.

As soon as the memories were destroyed Babycorn broke out of her trance with a gasp, only narrowly missing hitting the ground again thanks to being caught by an awakened Sicily.

“Got ya!” Sicily set Babycorn down on the grassy ground and stepped back. She held her non-existent breath until Babycorn took a breath of her own. Even if Babycorn wasn’t a doll like her it didn’t mean she didn’t care any less about her than before.

“Good job Sicily!” Maize gave her a congratulatory pat on the head and then walked over to inspect Babycorn.

Babycorn was sleeping soundly on the ground. She had turned herself over on her side, most likely the position she slept in on her own bed. There was a smile on her face and a tear in one of her eyes.

Maize smiled, “That should do it!” She brushed a part of Babycorn’s hair away from her eyes and stepped back.

“I hope Babycorn won’t mind that you did that Miss Maize!” Sicily jumped onto Maize’s arm and wrapped her own arms around her.

“She won’t mind! If she could-I think she would thank me now that she can finally get some sleep!”

“You’re so nice Miss Maize!!!”

“Oh, don’t say that!” Maize chuckled, “After all, I want to get some sleep too!”

#ffxivwrite2023 #endwalker spoilers #Maize #Babycorn #congrats babycorn #maize can also absolutely do this to herself and yes its how she gets over heartbreak so easily #the only memory she does keep that makes her sad is that of her parents and siblings #she lost them #baby hotline please hold me close to you #baby flatline still time to do it too #baby snacktime chow down to ear ear earth shes a hoarder of

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