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drabbles-mc · 4 months

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Never Been Us

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, angst, mentions of character death

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: the way i've been so blocked up and unable to finish fics and somehow i finished 2 in the last 2 days. no idea where it came from but I'm not questioning it. i started and finished this tonight. throwing it out there before i can second-guess myself lmao

When Angel rolled into your driveway and saw your front door open, the first thing that went through him was panic. You’d never been the type that was stupid or reckless enough to leave your front door open. And with the way that things had been going in Santo Padre, what with the club and the cartels and Border Patrol moving in, you were less likely than ever to leave yourself so vulnerable. Hell, lately whenever Angel showed up your door had not only been closed, but also locked.

Putting the stand down on his bike, he left his helmet hanging off the handlebar and started making his way towards your front door. He’d pulled his gun from his kutte before he even had one foot on your front step. He kept his breath trapped in the back of his throat as he clutched his gun tight. He kept it pointed down towards the ground for now, but he was ready for that to change.

He stepped through the threshold, one boot hitting the paper-thin throw rug just inside your door. It hardly muffled the sound. Before he could bring the other half of his body into your house, though, you popped up, quickly coming around the corner.

The sudden nature of both your appearances had you both cursing in surprise. You hugged the box in your hands tighter to your chest as your half-yell turned into a sigh of relief mixed with exhaustion. All of the emotions that just shot through you were evident as ever as you said, “What the fuck, Angel?”

His eyebrows were still practically in his hairline as he tucked his gun back away again. “The fuck you got your door open for? Had me thinkin’ someone fuckin’ broke—” He cut his own sentence off as he really took in the sight of you, the box in your hands that was hastily labeled BEDROOM. “What…?”

The confusion on his face made you unable to keep meeting his eyes. Your gaze dropped to the box you were holding, the seams of cardboard and tape suddenly more interesting than you would’ve ever imagined they’d be. Even though you weren’t looking directly at him, you heard the way he was shifting in the doorway, looking back at your pickup truck. You knew he’d see the other boxes you’d already stacked in the bed of it. You weren’t quite done loading up yet, but you were getting there.

He waited for you to look at him again before asking, “What’s going on?”

There was only one answer to his question, and it was an obvious one. But you knew that if the shoe was on the other foot you’d be doing the same thing—you’d need to hear him say it. Clearing your throat, you gave a shrug that accomplished nothing in terms of softening the blow of, “I’m leaving.”

His frown deepened, confusion transforming into hurt that almost had you rethinking your decision to get the hell out of Santo Padre. “L-leaving? You can’t…you can’t just leave.”

“Angel—”

“Nah,” he shook his head, “nah you don’t get to do that. You can’t just leave. You didn’t even—were you even gonna tell me?”

The lump in the back of your throat felt like it was on the brink of choking you. “Yeah.”

“Before you crossed fuckin’ county lines?”

Tears stung your eyes. “Angel, please.”

He backpedaled out your doorway and back onto your front step. “Don’t do that. Don’t say my name like that, like I fuckin’ matter to you.”

“You do—”

“You’re leaving me. You can’t stand there with your shit all boxed up,” he gestured to you and the bed of your truck, “and try to tell me I fuckin’ matter to you.”

There was no getting out of this argument now. It was an argument you’d been planning to have over the phone, an argument you were hoping would happen when there were more than a few area codes between you. You didn’t want it to be like this—not because he didn’t matter, but because he mattered too much. And you knew that if you had to look into those sad, puppy-dog eyes and tell him that you were leaving, and if you had to tell him why, you just might hang it all up and not leave at all. You couldn’t afford that.

There was no avoiding the argument but you didn’t want to do it while standing there holding a box that had books and trinkets from your bookshelf packed inside it. You slipped past him without a word and walked down to your truck. Angel didn’t follow, hanging back and watching as you set the box on the tailgate and gave it a strong push to send it sliding and landing right alongside the others.

When you walked back past him and into your house, that was when he decided to follow you. He shut the door behind the two of you, following you through your now essentially empty home. It was strange for him to walk through your living room and not see all of your picture frames and plants, the art prints that had covered your walls. You stopped in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter and facing him. You watched him look around, take in the fridge that was no longer covered in magnets and photographs and takeout menus. No more dishes in the sink or drainboard, no more succulents on the windowsill. Seeing it all empty made him remember that you were just renting this place anyway, that you could pack up and leave whenever you wanted. And now you were. Then the hurt and anger swelled up in his chest again.

“Why?” he asked.

You let out a hollow laugh, raking your fingernails along your scalp before letting your arms fall back to your sides again. “You’re really asking me that? This…this town is fucked, Angel. You know that. I know you’ve been waist-deep in your shit with the club but…but that’s the exact type of shit I’m talking about.”

“This town’s always been fucked, querida,” he tried to argue, tried to pepper in a pet name like it would change anything. “What’s so different now?”

The answer to that question made bile creep up your throat. You didn’t think that you could say it to him. Not the real answer, the raw unedited cut of it. “Everything,” you answered, a shake to your voice that was never there when you talked to him.

“C’mon,” he said, tone softer than it had been this entire time as he stepped in towards you. “Don’t leave me like this. Don’t do this to me.”

“This isn’t just about you.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed. He put his hands on your hips, pulling himself closer to you. His voice dropped to something just above a whisper. “After all the shit we—”

“We?” you cut him off, not yelling but your tone cutting nonetheless. “We? You’re choosing now to start throwing that word around?”

His brows came together, offended and confused. “What’re you talkin’ about? It’s always been us.”

You laughed, a cruel sound as tears prickled along your waterline again. “Oh, has it? It’s always been us?”

“Yeah, what’re you—”

“It’s never been us, Angel. Never. It’s been you, chasing around every girl who stumbles into that clubhouse and then running back to me when you get bored of them. It’s been you going out being reckless with the club and then coming to me when you need someone to patch you up, someone to tell you that you’re right and they’re all wrong. It’s been you coming to me whenever it’s fucking convenient for you.” You pushed him away, a half-hearted shove. “And it’s been me fucking letting you.”

“I—”

“And I would’ve been fine still doing that. You know that? Fucking sad, but I would’ve done it. Would’ve just kept right on pretending that it was enough, or that it was going to change. But then—” you stopped short, still not able to spit the words out. “I just can’t do it anymore, Angel.”

Despite Angel’s lack of ability to really commit, to really let himself be with you in the way that you really wanted, he’d always done his best with what little he had for you. Over the years he’d been your shoulder to cry on, his flannels becoming tissues for you. He’d set you loose in the scrapyard when your anger bubbled up so much that you needed to break something because it was the only alternative you had to hurting yourself or someone else—even gave you the gloves and safety glasses to do it the right way. He’d kept the other side of your bed warm when you were both feeling lonely, making the lines defining what you two were really start to blur.

He’d been there with you through all of that and yet he hadn’t ever seen the emotion saturating your expression now. He’d never seen you so afraid. Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, fists clenched as tightly as you could manage. Your leg bounced no matter how much you tried to will it to stop. He’d never seen you like this. How had it gotten so bad?

He stepped in close to you again. Placing his hands on the outsides of your arms, he gave you a light, reassuring squeeze. “What’s got you so scared?”

You shook your head, staring down at the floor because you couldn’t make yourself look at him. “I can’t.”

“What?”

“I can’t stay here. I can’t be comfortable here. I’m not…I’m not safe here.”

He brought one hand up to cup the side of your face. His thumb traced gently along your cheek in a way that made your bottom lip tremble. “I’ll always keep you safe, querida. You know that.”

He sounded so earnest but you knew too much now to be able to believe it. You’d tried. God, you had tried so hard to buy into that the last few weeks but you just couldn’t fool yourself. “I don’t.”

“What the fuck happened?”

Tears finally made their way to your cheeks, racing along the lines of Angel’s hand as it remained holding your face. You didn’t want to say it. You didn’t even want to think about it, but it’s all that was playing through your mind. Truthfully, it was the thing that had been playing through your mind every day since it had happened.

You could still hear it so vividly, the sound of him pounding on the door to your house. It hadn’t been his bike engine that woke you up, it was his aggressively frantic knocking on your front door. Looking back you were surprised that he hadn’t slammed it clean off its hinges. You were also surprised that you hadn’t tripped and fallen half a dozen times on your way to the front door from your bedroom because your eyes weren’t fully open and you weren’t anywhere close to fully awake.

“Alright, alright!” you half-shouted from your side of the door. You dumbly fiddled with the locks until they came undone.

Angel practically threw himself through the door. He was haphazardly grabbing for you, leaving for you to try and untangle yourself from his long limbs just to be able to close and lock the door again. You’d hardly heard the click of the lock and he was pulling you tight to him. He had his arms wrapped around you in such a way that you couldn’t even effectively hug him back. You just pressed your cheek against his hoodie, helpless to do anything else.

“Talk to me,” you said, managing to free one of your arms so that you could do your best to return his embrace.

He mumbled something into your shoulder, words that you couldn’t make out. He finally pulled back away from you, far enough so that you could see his face, the smears of blood that disappeared into the coarse hairs of his beard.

“It’s all my fault,” the words fell from his lips, raspy and choked as he repeated the sentence over and over again. “It’s all my fault. I, it’s all my fuckin’ fault.”

“What’s your fault, Angel?”

The sound of you saying his name got him to look at you, tears in his eyes and worry creasing his brow deeper than you thought was possible. His stare was so sad, so intense it had you pinned to the spot. Even when he pulled away from you, you felt like you couldn’t step in close to him again, feet glued to the floor. That was when you saw it, though, all the blood standing his palms and fingers.

You swallowed hard, what little exhaustion had still been clinging to you completely froze away. “Angel, talk to me. What happened?”

He looked down at his hands and then back at you. he knew what you were seeing, could only imagine what you were thinking. “I didn’t—it wasn’t supposed to go down like that. I tried to save her but I couldn’t…”

You finally forced yourself to move. You collapsed the distance he’d put between you. “Who?”

“Gaby,” he forced out, shaking his head in disbelief as he did.

Fear shot down your spine. “What?”

“It’s all my fault,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have—I tried to—fuck,” his voice cracked and he gave up on trying to say anything else.

You had wanted more answers in the moment, but back then you hadn’t been able to ask for them. Instead you cleaned him up. You threw his clothes in the wash. You let him slip underneath the covers next to you and keep you wrapped up so tightly for what little was left of the night that you couldn’t even fall back to sleep. The next morning he was still there, eyes hollow as he made a pot of coffee in your kitchen. That morning he was standing almost exactly where he was standing right in front of you now.

Forcing yourself to stay in the present, you finally said, “You know what happened.”

He shook his head. “I don’t.”

“Everyone’s fuckin’ dying, Angel. I, I don’t wanna be next.”

“Hey, come on now. You know I’d never let that shit happen to you.”

You scoffed, more tears spilling down your cheeks. “I’m sure that’s what EZ told Gaby, too.”

Angel flinched at that, immediately deflating. You had never brought it up again after that night. Neither did he. Weeks went by and the two of you seemingly went back to normal, like that entire night had never happened. But it did happen. Gaby was dead—that part you knew. What you didn’t know, what Angel hadn’t told you, was that EZ was the one who had killed her. Angel blamed himself, especially after EZ had told him what his final conversation with Gaby had been, why he had decided it was the only thing to do. Angel was carrying around all that guilt but he hadn’t been the one who pulled the trigger. That was all EZ. That was all the guy who had promised to keep Gaby safe.

His voice was a whisper as he spoke, like he didn’t even fully believe himself. “This ain’t like that, though.”

“But it is,” you said, voice shaking. “Or it will be. That’s what this town, this world,” you rested your hand on the flash stitched into his kutte as you said it, “does. I can’t keep feeling like I’m on borrowed time.”

He sniffled, trying to stuff his emotions back down where he used to keep them so comfortably. “So you’re just gonna leave, then? Run away?”

You knew he wanted an argument. Being angry was so fucking easy. You didn’t want to give into it. “If it keeps me alive, then yes. I lo—” you stopped and switched course, “I care about you, Angel. But I’m not looking to die for anyone. I’m not…I’m not made for this.”

He was holding your face with both hands now, palms that just a few weeks before had been coated with blood. “Don’t leave me like this. Please.”

“Come with me.” It was your final offer, one you hadn’t planned on extending until the words were tumbling out.

He shook his head. “Don’t.”

“Come with me.” You rested your hands on top of his. “Get out and away from all this shit. We’ll start over.”

“It ain’t that simple.”

You threaded your fingers with his. “It is. Pack up your shit and throw it in my truck. And we’ll leave. That simple.”

He pulled his hands away from yours, stepping back from you again. Shaking his head, he brushed his hand quickly across his eyes—erasing any hint of tears and emotion that had been there until then. “I’m not running just ‘cause you are.”

“Maybe you should. Or maybe,” you shrugged helplessly, “maybe it was never about me—not for you, anyway.”

That gave him pause. He tried to get his expression to harden, give that tough, neutral gaze, but he couldn’t get it quite right. “I shouldn’t’a come here.” He shook his head. “Should’a let you run off with no goodbye the way you wanted.”

“Angel—”

He took another step back, getting himself closer and closer to your front door one stride at a time. “Go ahead, then. Get the fuck out—away from this town, away from me. Fuckin’…fuckin’ go.”

He turned on his heel and kept walking. It took a few seconds to will your feet to move, to go after him. Even with his long strides you were able to catch up before he reached the door.

“Angel.” You stepped in front of him. “Stop.”

You saw the mist in his eyes. Still, he tried to keep his voice sharp. “You’re leaving. No point in me staying here to watch you pack up the rest of your shit.”

You opened your mouth to try and say something else, try to conjure up something that would get him to change his mind. He didn’t let you. Pushing past you, he ripped open your door and stormed out of the house. Maybe it was just as well—it wasn’t as though you were going to come up with a magical string of words to get him to leave with you. Still, the impact of his shoulder slamming against yours hurt far more on an emotional level than it did on a physical one.

Turning, you went out onto the step. Your lip began to quiver as you watched him throw his leg over his bike and get ready to peel off. The sound of the engine seemed deafening, and you wonder how it hadn’t woken you on that night weeks ago. Then it got quieter the farther he rode. Then it was silent again. And all you could do was walk back inside to get the next box, leaving the door open behind you.

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roscgcld · 3 years

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HEADCANONS + GOJO SATOR || chubby s/o

request: can you please do jjk character reaction to you gaining weight? i feel so insecure about it and it would be good to read something like that.. i love ur headcanons :-)

hey again! it's me with the gaining weight request :( i forgot to say that i want gojo's reaction to it :( his reaction to you being insecure of gaining weight and trying to lose it. thank u in advance ily :]

note: excuse me *bops you on the head* you cannot be insecure about something as small as weight. you’re beautiful 😠😠 and if anyone else says otherwise i will start swinging. who doesn’t like a little fluff to hold onto when they cuddle???? you’re perfect, and a little extra weight is not that bad! and i am happy that you like my headcanons love - makes me super happy to hear it from time to time >< i love you and send you positive vibes uwu ~

pronouns: she/her - because it came naturally, but i still love my non-binary readers i send you love and kisses and an apology ><

because of your boyfriend’s wicked good looks and his naturally flirty personality, it is no surprise that he is surrounded by a lot of equally beautiful people in your eyes

and even though he entertains them with no more than a charming smile and a few nice comments, that doesn’t make you any less insecure about something as small as your weight

also adding into your insecurities is his title as a gojo - the strongest sorcerer of the generation, and the next in line to become the head of the gojo clan. his elders are expecting him to marry young and start popping out kids

the women that his elders had sent to him as ‘suitors’ did not help too - they were all what you viewed as the epidemy of a perfect woman. pretty face, amazing body, and a soft spoken and gentle personality; acting and looking almost too fake and doll-like

gojo usually turns them away by giving them some half ass excuse about why he can’t date them, slamming the door in their faces after he pulls you towards him to press a passionate kiss to your lips; hand obviously resting on your ass

and even though that makes you super embarrassed, you just giggle softly against his lips at the offended gasp coming from the door; to which gojo will grin lightly into the kiss before deepening it quite excitely

but that never shuts your demons away - and one day you just found yourself looking yourself over the full length mirror hanging in your shared closet; a frown marring your features

you had always pride yourself on keeping in somewhat shape, but with the constantly on the go lifestyle you live, and the stress that had started to mountain at work; it is natural for you to have gained a little

and recently, as if your mind had decided to spite you, you had realised that gojo is surrounded with more and more people around him - beautiful people around him, to be exact

whether they are fellow super fit sorcerers, another random suitor knocking at the door of your shared apartment, or even just random strangers on the street - you have started to realise that gojo just naturally attracts attractive people like that into his life

people who would look amazing together with him. someone who isn’t you

you were so consumed with your thoughts that you had not heard gojo, who came out from the shower with wet hair and a pair of fitted briefs, looking around your empty bedroom in confusion

tossing the towel he was using to dry up into the laundry basket, he had peeked into the closet of your shared room curiously; only to see you dressed in nothing but a cute white bra and a matching set of underwear

he was about to tease you about it, playfully asking if you ‘trying to make us late for our lunch with the others’ when he noticed the frown on your face as you scanned yourself over; hands resting on your stomach

wordlessly gojo made his way towards you, your eyes snapping towards his huge frame appearing in the mirror as his arms wrapped themselves around you immediately; bright blue eyes blinking at you from the mirror whilst he rests his chin on your shoulder

“what’s wrong, bunny? you have a frown on your face, and you know that i hate it when you’re frowning~”

at first you felt embarrass to admit what was plaguing your mind, knowing that he was going to tease you about being so insecure about something like this - but gojo is stubborn

he is going to coax it out of you one way or another, so you better fess up with whatever it is that is bothering you

it took some time for him to coax the question out of you, but eventually you gave in; awkwardly meeting his eyes through the mirror as he raises an eyebrow at you; silently coaxing for you to tell him

“I just...i’ve wanted to ask you for awhile now....am i fat?”

your question actually had gojo freeze as he made the most confused face ever, hand cupping up to gently squish your face between his fingers as he pulled away a little

“who said that? am i going to have to kill someone?” gojo asks too casually, to which you widen your eyes before you wrapped your hands around the wrist holding your face, shaking your head

“n-no! not at all!” you tried to calm him down as he turns your body to face him, an even more confused look appearing on his face - and you know that it’s genuine since he looked like a confused child

this just made things worse for you as you rubbed your warm cheeks, looking away from his all searching eyes. “i-it’s just...i feel like i’ve gained some...and you’re always around really good looking people...women..”

gojo was genuinely confused as he frowns, to which you just gave him an asperated face. yet before you can say anything he made a noise of confusion; arms wrapped around your waist loosely. “is it bad that i didn’t even notice?”

whatever you wanted to say dried up on your tongue as gojo looks over at you and gave you a soft but genuine smile, hands reaching over to cup your cheeks in his hands

“i didn’t date you because of something so artificial, bunny.” he hummed as he playfully squished your cheeks together. “to be honest, i didn’t notice about that until you brought it up.”

you made a face at him, as if silently asking if he was being serious as he pulled a face on you as well. “i am being serious here, bunny. i really didn’t notice at all.”

he just pulls you into his chest and hold you close, smushing your face into his firm chest as he coos at you. “you should know better then to think that i care about things as fickled as weight~ i’m dating you because you can make really good onigiri.”

“so you are dating me for my cooking?!” you gasped at him dramatically as you pulled your face away to glare at him, to which he just grinned before he leans forward to press kisses all over your face; your annoyance melting away immediately

after that it sort of just been left forgotten - but gojo never forgot. He can never forget something like that

even before you told him, he could tell that something was bothering you for some time now; but he wanted to wait for you to tell him yourself

and like he said, he really truly did not realise it until you pointed it out; he had never really care about things like physical appearance. since at the end of the day, he only cares about your chemistry together

i think that gojo, even though he is very vain, does not necessarily care about looks when he dates. for him, he wants someone who can handle all sides of him instead of being with him him for face value

so that is all he cares about - and you were perfect for him. so do forgive him for not giving two shits about something as small as appearance lol

yet he knew that you were still thinking about it - so he went out of his way to make sure that you’re not going to do something that might bring you more harm

when he realises you are eating smaller portions, he might whine and pout at you with puppy eyes; demanding for you to take a few more bites of your food

and no one can really say no to him whenever he shines his beautiful eyes at them; so he always end up getting his way

he always make sure to get the food you like and stock up on the snacks you enjoy to eat; and heck, he will even go out of his way to visit you during your lunch break at work to bring you out on lunch dates whenever he can

he’ll even become more touchy; even more so than he was before. but now he made sure to keep his touches at places where you are the most self conscious about

grabbing your thighs when you two seat together, resting his hands on your love handles whenever he wraps his arms around your waist, resting on your stomach whenever you two cuddle together

he’s always shown his affection through physical touches, since mans will end up insulting you by accident because of his inability to read the room - he might make a very unsavory joke that makes you want to hit him over the head

but he does really care for you, and always goes out of his way to make sure that you’re more than aware that he does care for you; even if it means feeding you food in the middle of a restaurant if you refuse to eat more

when you confront him about it, he just gave you a soft but genuine smile before he rests his hands on your shoulders to shake you gently; as if he is shaking you back into reality

“i just know you well, bunny. and i know that you’re going to try and loose weight because you think that’s what i want.” he sighs dramatically before he tossed his arms around you, pulling you into him with a pout. “but you should know better than to think that i am going to leave you because of your weight.”

his words caused you to pause as he pulls away a little to press a soft kiss on your forehead, soft lips resting against your hairline for a few more moments as he tightened his arms around you

“plus, i see it as a bonus honestly. more places to mark and more of you to love. also - your ass looks amazing in sweats.”

“i should have known the inner perv will wiggle his way out.” you grumbled shyly as you tried to push your grinning boyfriend away, who just grins in response as he you closer, catching your wrists in his hands. “you know i speak nothing but the truth love~”

and even though gojo adopted such a teasing tone, you knew that he was speaking nothing but the truth. it may not be enough to calm your whispering demons, but it did make you feel a little more confident in yourself

gojo also continued to shower you in more and more attention, making sure you never forget just how much he loves you. and that you should never care about something as small as your weight

he loves you no matter what, no matter what size you are - as long as you are there to welcome him home after a long day of work with the all love you hold for him, that’s all he needs

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somewhatgreatexpectations · 3 years

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Just My Imagination (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello! We’ve entered the 70s and part 3! The songs used in this chapter are “Just My Imagination (Running Away With Me)” by The Temptations (1971) and “Lovin’ You” By Minnie Riperton (1975).

Summary: Y/n and Wanda experience life (and pregnancy) in the 70s as Wanda tries to keep everything under control.

Hope you enjoy! :)

“Alright, krasivaya, what decade are we living in today?” Wanda asked in an overly upbeat tone as she took a space beside you on the bed. She hoped that the tradition would be enough to lift your spirts.

You turned to face her with devastated eyes and it took everything within Wanda to not burst into tears at the sight. That wasn’t what you needed right now.

“They don’t want me here, Wanda.” You mumbled dejectedly, brushing over her attempt at making you feel better. Seeing you so downtrodden was such a stark contrast to your usually carefree nature. It was heartbreaking for Wanda to see.

Scooting closer, Wanda wrapped a comforting arm around you. You immediately turned to bury your head in her shoulder, desperately seeking comfort in her arms. “Moya lyubov, that’s not true. You know how Stark is.” She rubbed your arm soothingly. “If it makes you feel better, I may have thrown him through the wall when you left.” A weak chuckle shook your body at her admission.

The smile that formed on Wanda’s lips was instantaneous when the sound she adored filled the quiet room.

The moment didn’t last long though. “He said I was dangerous.” You faintly whispered, hurt lacing your words.

Wanda sighed. “Y/n. Look at me.” You pulled your head up to meet her loving gaze. “You and I both know that’s far from the truth. Your emotions got the best of you once. That’s all.”

You shamefully ducked your head. “I just-… I could have hurt someone. I couldn’t help but think of her when we were there. That’s why I lost control and the building collapsed.” It took Wanda a moment, but she finally understood what this was about. “It was like I was back there, not able to protect her…” you couldn’t find it in yourself to continue as tears welled in your eyes.

Immediately her hold on you tightened as she pressed her lips firmly against your hairline. “Shh… I have you. It’s okay. Let it out.” Wanda whispered as she felt your tears flow steadily against her neck.

You bunched your hands into the front of her sweater as you tried to take deep breathes. “I miss her, Wanda… So much. Anna didn’t deserve what happened. It should have been me-”

If anyone understood your pain it was Wanda, but she couldn’t allow your thoughts to spiral like that. She knew all too well what could come from that.

“Stop.” She interrupted firmly. “The world needs you here. My world needs you here. You did everything you could for her. You loved her so much, Y/n. Don’t carry that burden of blame when it was all Hydra.”

Her eyes offered you comfort and the depths contained nothing but love that enveloped your entire being. You felt lighter. “Thank you.” You finally murmured. “For being here, for knowing what I need. For being you... Every time I think I couldn’t be more in love...” You thought out loud to yourself with a faint smile.

Wanda’s breath hitched as her eyes filled with even more emotion. “There’s no need to thank me. You do the same for me. Constantly. I’ll always be here. I won’t let go of you.” She repeated the words you once told her back at you. Your heart thrummed. “I love you. Endlessly.”

“I love you, too.” You mumbled against her lips, losing yourself in the feeling for a moment before you pulled away.

Wanda dazedly shook her head, regaining her focus. “So?” She placed another tender kiss to your temple as her smile became playful. “What decade are we using to escape from this one?” She questioned again, once again offering you the fictitious escape of reality that you’d both grown to find comfort in.

You shook your head but gave in either way. “The 70s.” you eventually replied with a small smile, settling on your favorite.

You covered your face in mock mortification when Wanda immediately threw up a peace sign with her free hand. “Far out.” She retorted coolly. The outdated saying fell easily from her lips as she settled into her character. You shook your head again. “I’ll get the shows ready, you get the music?”

The smile that grew on your face from her antics was inevitable. “Sounds… groovy, babe.” You responded, playing along. Despite the exasperation that you feigned, you appreciated everything she was doing.

“Oh, god…” You groaned as you watched Wanda disco out of the room to go gather what you two would need.

You were so unfathomably in love with this woman.

For a moment you wished that the world was able to see this side of Wanda, the side that was reserved for you and you alone. The playful side. The side that showed that she was more than just tragedy.

Wanda knew that playing make-believe wouldn’t fix your problems or heal your pain, but it would be enough to ease your mind even if it was just temporary. If this tradition was something that could bring the light back into your eyes, she was more than willing to provide it.

She knows that you’ve done the same for her numerous times before and would do so for as long as she needed it.

When she wandered back in the room she held up two different options. “Okay, I couldn’t decide between-”

“You pick.” You interrupted her. She quirked an eyebrow.

With a shrug, she tossed the items on the bed and took both of your hands, pulling you up from your seated position. “We’ll get to that later then. Where’s the 70s music?”

Taking one of your hands back, you queued the playlist that had the music you were searching for. “There.” You said with a half-hearted smirk, still feeling a little down. Wanda immediately noticed.

The song that filled the room was upbeat and bouncy as Wanda began pulling your hands back and forth to the rhythm of the music. The amused twinkle in her eye not going unnoticed. When she noticed you began moving on your own, Wanda began dancing in an exaggerated 70s fashion, singing along to the lyrics of the song. With a laugh, you easily joined her, feeling the weight lift from your shoulders ever so slightly.

For the remainder of the song you both danced around the room using your best 70s moves as you continued to loudly belt out the lyrics. When the song ended, you both fell to the floor, out of breath and smiling contentedly.

Leaning against each other both literally and metaphorically.

Moments of escape from the heavy lives you lead were few and far between so when they came around they were special. These moments with Wanda… they were special. They were escapes that had transitioned into traditions. Traditions that were forged with great care in the flames of your love.

Without warning, Wanda leaned over and cupped your cheek. She wasted no time before passionately connecting your lips. There was no hesitation as you returned her embrace. The music around you transitioned into something much softer as you both got lost in one another.

“Soon we'll be married and raise a family, a cozy little home out in the country with two children, maybe three. I tell you I can visualize it all, this couldn't be a dream for too real it all seems, but it was just my imagination runnin' way with me…”

The words that drifted from the radio caught your attention, easily pulling your focus from the task at hand. Flashes of moments you didn’t recognize flooded your mind. Despite the upbeat tempo of the song, the lyrics seemed sad… hopeless even. The emotion that the song radiated seemed to fill your body.

An odd sense of longing blossomed in your chest as the song played on. The abrupt sound of someone speaking and a gentle squeeze of your wife’s hand in yours grounded you as you focused on the moment happening before you.

The feeling of longing and hopelessness that filled you faded away and was replaced with excitement as Dr. Nielson began speaking.

Wanda pretended not to notice the way you jumped slightly.

“Definitely pregnant!” The doctor confirmed cheerfully with a broad smile as he pulled the stethoscope from his ears.

A short laugh fell from Wanda’s lips as you shook your head at the doctor’s obvious statement. “Well, that much we figured.” Wanda retorted flatly.

You shifted to face the man fully. Squeezing Wanda’s hand in your own once more. “It’s just taken us a bit by surprise. It was kind of suddenly... Quite suddenly, wasn’t it? Practically overnight.”

A sharp grip on your knee stopped your words as your eyes fell to Wanda, who subtly shook her head. “What my wife means is, we’re just tickled pink… or blue!” Wanda quickly supplied as she stood up from the couch.

The doctor merely nodded, dismissing the comments as he stood up as well. “You’re at about 4 months now, is that right?” He questioned which you immediately shook your head at until you saw Wanda nodding enthusiastically and looking at you pointedly.

You began nodding slowly with an unsure smile. “That sounds about right.” You responded hesitantly. The words practically a question.

“It’s easiest for ladies such as yourself to keep tabs on growing babies with fruit. It makes it simple.” You bristled slightly at the sexist remark as the doctor continued listing the size of the baby in comparison to various fruits.

Disregarding his words, you interrupted him. “How big would the baby be at say… Twelve hours?” You attempted to ask nonchalantly.

“Twelve hours?” Dr. Nielson eyed you skeptically.

Wanda rushed over to the man and began pulling him in the direction of the door. “I think this line of questioning is fruitless!” She joked with a nervous chuckle as the disembodied voices laughed along.

Not being deterred, you followed after them. “Hypothetically speaking, should we be concerned? Or concerned that even though we may have engaged in… “ You coughed awkwardly. “Activities that typically produce children, we both lack the necessary, erm-… equipment for impregnating. Hypothetically speaking of course.”

Wanda choked at your words. “Sweetheart.” She sputtered abruptly, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

The man lightly tapped your shoulder and ignored your words. “Hypothetically speaking, every new parent gets nervous.”

As you opened your mouth to reply, Wanda quickly cut you off. “Y/n. Why don’t you see the doctor out?”

You shrugged, deciding the doctor was no help anyway. “Good idea.” You made your way over to the doctor as you began leading him out.

Before exiting, you glanced back to see Wanda looking down at her stomach with a soft smile. Your heart swelled at the sight. Any questions you may have had vanished if it meant she would keep smiling like that.

When you reached the front yard, Dr. Nielson turned towards you. “You actually caught me just in time. I’m taking the wife on vacation this afternoon.”

“Oh, have a nice holiday. Hey, Herb!” You called out politely as you waved to the neighbor. He greeted you back as he continued to trim his hedges. “Listen, doctor, do you mind keeping the news of Wanda’s… you know, just between us? Everything is happening so quickly, I think we’d like it just between us for now.”

The man mimed zipping his lips. “Mums the word.” He replied easily. “I’m off. Bermuda baby!” He cheered as he walked off.

Just as you were about to turn back inside a sharp screeching sound caught your attention. You turned rapidly, only to see Herb’s hedge trimmer cutting into the brick of the wall. “Hey, Herb,” you called out hesitantly. “I think you may have taken the hedge trimming a little too far, pal.”

Herb looked up at you with an unnerving smile as he continued cutting into the brick. “So, I have. Thanks, buddy.”

“Yeah… don’t mention it.” You mumbled uncertainly. You turned and rushed into the house, eager to get away from the odd behavior. “Darling, the strangest thing just happened outside with Herb…”

Wanda turned to face you. The sight of her stomach appearing even further along in the pregnancy than it was just moments before shocking you. “Woah! Have you gotten bigger?” you shouted with wide eyes.

The woman in question merely shrugged. “Have I? I can’t tell from this angle.”

You wandered over and placed a hand softly over her stomach. “It’s either that or I need glasses.” The disembodied voices laughed. “With how fast you’re developing I think it might be in our best interest to prepare the nursery now.”

“That’s a great idea!” Wanda exclaimed excitedly. “I’ll help you as soon as I satisfy this craving.”

With a chuckle and a nod, you began moving the boxes into the room that would eventually become the nursery. After you had built the rocking chair, a book about pregnancy caught your eye. Taking a seat on the rocking chair, you began reading in hopes of preparing yourself for the pregnancy with all the necessary knowledge. You were deeply engrossed in the book when you noticed objects begin floating around the room.

“Nesting. The overwhelming urge during pregnancy to clean, organize and prepare the home for the new baby.” You read out loud curiously as you took notice of Wanda using her powers to set up the room.

Wanda waved her hand towards a box and a mobile began floating over to hang just above the crib. “See? You’re an expert already. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” Wanda replied distractedly through bites of the fruit she was eating.

Absently you flipped through the book. “Well, nothing to worry about besides morning sickness, mood swings, aching back and fe-feet.” you stuttered out as you glanced over at your pregnant wife who was, in fact, on her feet. You closed the book and put it to the side as you stood up. “Darling, you should probably sit down.”

With a dismissive wave of her hand, Wanda continued moving objects around the room. “Don’t be silly. All I feel is excitement, happiness, and oh!” she exclaimed as she glanced down at her stomach.

“Kicking? Already?” You asked disbelievingly as you placed your hand lightly over her stomach. “Wow…” you breathed out when you felt a gentle nudge against your fingertips.

Wanda smiled brightly, her eyes twinkling with joy. “It’s such a strange sensation. It’s kind of fluttery.” She explained with a cute scrunch of her nose.

As soon as the word fluttery left her lips the plastic butterflies that were previously hanging on the mobile became animated and fluttered over to you. “Oh, did I do that? I didn’t mean to.” She said in surprise as a butterfly landed on your nose.

She turned to you and placed her finger out for the butterfly to crawl onto, her beautiful smile growing even more. You beamed brightly back at the sight of her as she let them out the bedroom window. You opened your book up again.

“If that was the first kick that puts you at about… six months.” Your eyes widened as you flipped through the book. “Six months? That was so… fast! I can’t keep up!” You exclaimed.

Realizing how that may sound, you hurriedly kneeled down in front of Wanda and nuzzled your nose into her stomach. “Please don’t misinterpret, I can’t wait to meet you little Charlie!” You pressed a light kiss to her stomach before standing again.

“Charlie?” Wanda questioned curiously. “I was thinking Billy, just a nice, classic, all-American name.”

You tilted your head in mock thought. “Charming. But then there’s Charlie… named after the great Charles Dickens. “Life is made of so many partings welded together”” You recited to her with an excited smile.

Despite herself, Wanda couldn’t help but smirk in amusement. “Nerd. I guess there’s only one solution for this debate… hope for a girl.”

As you watched Wanda begin painting a stork on the wall with her powers, you began thinking. “I figure we should probably decide on a name soon though. Based on your rapid progression paired with the time elapsed…” You trailed off in thought.

Absentmindedly you spun the wedding ring on your finger as you attempted to figure out the timeline of the pregnancy.

After a few moments of silence, Wanda snapped her fingers in front of your face. “He’s going to be here before you figure it out.” She teased lightly.

“Well, I’m not a robot, dear.” You quipped back distractedly as you attempted to correlate the growth with the timeframe.

“And thank goodness for that.” Wanda countered easily, thoroughly enjoying watching you attempt to figure out the timeline.

Suddenly, you focused your attention back to her. “If I’m thinking this through properly and don’t hold me to this… But… I believe it’s due Friday afternoon.”

Wanda’s eyes widened at the information. “In three days?” She choked out. “Maybe I should sit down.”

“I need to practice!” You shouted unexpectedly as the information settled with you as well. Quickly, you grabbed a toy doll out of one of the boxes, a couple loose diapers and ran out of the room. Wanda shook her head at your antics but followed you out nonetheless.

After several practice rounds, you picked up the baby and stared it down seriously. The sound of laughter floated around you. “I think we have an understanding.” You told the inanimate object determinedly. “Start the clock!” You called to Wanda who immediately began the timer.

Fumbling only slightly, you were able to get the diaper on the baby with ease. “Time!” You shouted triumphantly.

“Your personal best.” Wanda called from the kitchen with a smile.

You pumped your fist in the air in celebration. “Yes! We are nothing if not prepared!”

“Oh!” Wanda breathed out, her face scrunched in discomfort.

At the sound, your head snapped over to Wanda. “Darling?” you questioned in concern.

Once again, Wanda scrunched her face. “Did the book talk about this? It’s not a painful, but a strange…”

Vaguely you recalled reading about the feeling she was describing. You quickly began flipping through the book. Stopping shortly after when you found the information you were searching for. “Tightening sensation?” you offered helpfully.

Wanda nodded, still cringing ever so slightly. “Yup. That’s it.”

You quickly skimmed over the page. “Braxton Hick’s contractions.” You informed her as you read on. “Also known as false labor. Usually begins in the third trimester. Named after John Braxton Hicks in 1875-”

“Honey.” Wanda interrupted, gesturing for you to get to the point.

“Right!” You skimmed further. “This could give us a chance to work on our breathing exercises.” You suggested as you made your way over to her and rubbed her back in soothing circles.

Wanda nodded in agreement as you demonstrated the recommended breathing technique, which she replicated. “Yeah, it’s not working. I can still feel it.” She said with a frown.

You pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Before you could get another word out, Wanda let out a short yell as everything in the kitchen went into a fritz.

“Let’s abandon the kitchen!” you shouted as you protectively took Wanda by the hand and led her out. Wanda’s screams remained steady from the discomfort the entire way, much to your eardrums displeasure.

A sudden, bright flash of light startled you as you both naturally fell into a defensive stance. Standing back-to-back, you both lifted your hands in preparation to fight if necessary.

Almost as soon as you were in position, the house returned to normal. “It stopped.” Wanda said apprehensively as her hands remained in their defensive position.

“I’ll go check outside.” You said and rushed out the door, returning shortly after with the information. “It looks like the whole block is out.”

Wanda wandered over to the couch and took a precarious seat. “And that was just a fake contraction. Who knows what will happen when the real thing starts.” Her brows creased together in worry. “Do you think they know it’s my fault?”

You began making your way over to your wife. “Our neighbors?”

“Well, yes. With all the close calls we’ve been having it seems the people of Westview are always on the verge of discovering our secret.” She admitted worriedly.

Thoughtfully you ponded her question and all the odd occurrences that had happened around you since you arrived in Westview. “I know what you mean.” You began somberly as you took a seat next to Wanda. “But it’s more than that, isn’t it? Mr. Hart and Ellie, dinner, my dream, outside with Herb…”

Wanda’s eyes glimmered with concern as she watched you anxiously.

“I think something is wrong here, Wanda.” You finished softly. She searched your eyes as the pain in her eyes became more prominent...

“Do you think they know it’s my fault?”

You began making your way over to your wife and took a seat next to her. You gently took her hand in yours. “Yes, I know what you mean. The truth is we are in uncharted waters and you know what? I’m anxious too.” You admitted to her reassuringly. The voices cooed.

A soft smile formed on Wanda’s lips as she stared at you adoringly. “We just don’t know what to expect.” You nodded your head slightly in agreement as Wanda continued. “Will the baby have powers? Will it be my powers? Or your powers? A bit of both? No powers?”

The twinkle in her eyes caused your stomach to flip. “If he’s anything like his mother, Charlie will be perfect.”

Wanda smirked. “You mean Billy.” You were about to respond when Wanda gasped loudly, startling you out of your seat.

“Darling, are you alright?” you questioned fearfully as you scrambled back to your feet.

Wanda braced herself slightly. “This is a real one.” She gritted out.

“What?” you shouted as you began floating away from the ground.

Wanda glared at you from her position on the couch. “I thought you said Friday!”

“I told you I wasn’t a robot!” you defended anxiously as you continued floating higher, losing your ability to control the action.

Through the chaos in your mind you could hear Wanda begin her breathing exercises as she gestured for you to follow along. You nervously began following along, drifting back down to the floor a few seconds later. Wanda stood up and made her way over to you, soothingly taking your hand in hers. For a moment you both stood in place as you matched one another’s breathing. Slowly but surely regaining your composure.

“Better?” Wanda questioned teasingly after a moment.

You took another deep breath. “Yes, darling, thank you.” You replied sheepishly.

Not even a moment later, water began falling steadily over the entirety of the house, drenching you both in a seemingly never-ending downpour.

“Y/n?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I think my water just broke.”

“Yes, dear…”

In a bid to seek shelter you ushered Wanda to the dining room table as you crawled under after her. Your nerves were on high alert as even the downpour couldn’t pull your worries away from the fact that your wife was going into labor. Your eyes remained anxiously transfixed on the woman next to you who was pouting in displeasure at the water ruining the room. Much to your relief, the downpour finally slowed and then stopped altogether.

You quickly crawled out from under the space. “Let me help you up, dear.” You quickly offered Wanda, not wanting her to strain herself in anyway. As you gently helped her to her feet, her eyes seemed most focused on the room around you.

A small frown tugged at the corner of her lips as she surveyed the room. “What a mess!” Before you could react, she waved her hands and a powerful gust of wind blew in through the door, nearly knocking you off your feet. “That’s better.”

Her contentment was short lived as another groan of discomfort fell from her lips. “Darling, do you think it’s time to-”

“Call the doctor? Yes, I do, dear.” You responded quickly without letting her finish as you sprinted over to the phone only to hear the dial tone fill your ears. “Damn! The phones are down. I better run. Let’s hope he didn’t already leave for vacation.”

Wanda gasp as she rubbed her stomach anxiously. “At a time like this?” she cried.

Attempting to sooth her, you brushed a hand along her cheek lightly. A nervous smile on your lips. “Well, in all fairness darling, the baby is about nine months early. I’ll be back as fast as I can. Will you be alright here?”

A hesitant nod was Wanda’s only response. You pressed a short kiss to her lips and frantically raced out the door.

As Wanda attempted to calm herself through her breathing exercise, the sound of rustling in the nursery caught her attention. Just as she began making her way towards the sound, the doorbell sounded, causing her to jump.

“Oh shoot!” She exclaimed, knowing that company meant she would have to explain her unexplainable pregnancy. Thinking quickly, she waved a hand and a coat floated out of the closest and covered her.

“Wanda! What’s up?” Geraldine began as soon as Wanda opened the door. Her brows furrowed when she noticed the coat the other woman was wearing. “It’s 75 degrees out, you making a fashion statement?” She questioned lightly as she walked into the home.

A forced smile formed on Wanda’s face as she attempted to speak through the contractions as they came and went. “Hi Geraldine, you know, now isn’t really a good time.” She informed the other woman politely.

Geraldine turned to face Wanda. “No, no, no, it’s foxy. You’ll have to let me borrow it sometime.” She replied, misinterpreting the meaning of Wanda’s words. “But first, I have to borrow a bucket. Not to wear, to use. Somehow all the pipes in my ceiling burst at once and I have to bail myself out.”

“Alright, sure! Just stay right there, I think I may have a bucket in the kitchen!” Wanda shouted when she noticed Geraldine turn. She quickly ran passed Geraldine and into the kitchen, keeping her coat wrapped tightly around her abdominal area. “I think it’s just here under the s-sINK!” She cried as another painful contraction overcame her.

“Are you alright in there?” Geraldine called out in concern.

Another contraction came as Wanda attempted to control her tone through this one. “Y-yes, I’m just looking-ow!” She stuttered out as her coat magically transformed into a fur coat. Despite the situation she couldn’t help but admire the quality.

“I’ll come help.” Geraldine announced as Wanda quickly took off the coat and threw it to the side.

“No! I mean, no thank you!” she quickly corrected herself.

Her words fell on deaf ears as Geraldine wandered over to the closet in the kitchen, her back to Wanda. “Found it!” As she turned, Wanda grabbed a bowl of fruit to hide her stomach now that the coat wasn’t an option. “Would you look at that?” Wanda tensed. “Fruit! Wanda, thank you!” Geraldine said cheerfully as she took an apple. Wanda’s shoulder slouched with relief.

“Good luck with the leak.” Wanda breathed out as she began to follow Geraldine out. She was glad to have avoided any incident.

Geraldine continued speaking despite having the item she came for. Even though she knew it wasn’t neighborly, Wanda couldn’t help but tune out Geraldine as she spoke. If she wasn’t in the middle of giving birth she knew she would care more about being a good hostess, but that just wasn’t a priority to her at the moment.

That is until a stork appeared behind the couch Geraldine was currently rising from. “Wait, no! Tell me about the temp job!” She urged desperately, sighing in relief when Geraldine smiled and sat back down. The woman excitedly began recounting her story.

Seeing how thrilled her friend was, Wanda did her best to listen half-heartedly as the stork continued to wander around in the background despite numerous attempts to make it go away. Much to Wanda’s relief, Geraldine was oblivious to the chaos occurring around her as she engrossed in the story she was telling. Wanda was able to get away with just making small comments here and there.

As one disaster was averted, Geraldine began making her way into the nursery where the stork had just gone into. “Wait!” Wanda cried as she rushed after her, grabbing a vase to cover her stomach along the way.

“Is that what I think it is?” Geraldine asked, her tone serious as she looked in the direction of where the stork was perched against the painting on the wall.

A nervous chuckle escaped Wanda’s lips. “Oh, a stork. Yes. I can explain.”

Excitedly, Geraldine turned to face Wanda. “No! The crib.” She gestured to the object in question.

Not a moment after Geraldine began admiring the nursery, another contraction overtook Wanda, the force of it causing her to drop the vase. The object shattered at her feet. “Oh, it’s coming! The baby is coming!” She cried out through heavy breaths.

“You’re pregnant?” Geraldine questioned, eyes wide in bewilderment. Instead of answering another scream fell from Wanda’s lips as she placed her hands over her stomach.

Geraldine cautiously led Wanda out of the nursery. “Let’s get you comfortable.” She rushed over to the couch and began gathering the pillows.

Several items in the house began moving on their own as the radio stirred to life at a loud volume.

“Lovin' you is more than just a dream come true and everything that I do is out of lovin' you…”

Wanda began lowering herself to the floor, practically having to shout over the music. “I think I’m going to lay down right here. Y/n ran to get the doctor, she’ll be back soon.” She gritted out as she carelessly fell back against the floor.

Hurriedly, Geraldine shoved a pillow under Wanda’s head before it could make contact with the floor. “There’s not enough time for that. Relax, relax.” She frantically said as she rushed around the area, gathering different items. “You know your breathing, right?”

The radio began playing even louder as Wanda ground her teeth together, attempting to breathe in the rhythmical pattern she had practiced earlier. Rather than the rhythmic breathes, muffled screams slipped passed Wanda’s lips instead.

Geraldine gasped loudly as a chandelier fell near her and the music began playing even louder. “I may be late to the party, but I imagine there’s a logical explanation for this.” She told Wanda in a calming tone as she set down all the items she grabbed.

“It’s all perfectly natural!” Wanda managed in between screams as the volume of the radio continued to rise with her screams.

With wide eyes Geraldine took hold of Wanda’s knee to attempt to ground her. “Hey, hey, you’re doing great. Let’s start by turning off the music.” Geraldine shouted over the radio. Wanda faintly heard her and weakly waved a hand, effectively stopping the music, but the paintings continued spinning on the wall. “Look at me. Look at me.” Geraldine said calmly and began replicating the breathing Wanda had worked on with you earlier.

With terrified eyes, Wanda kept her gaze locked on Geraldine, desperately wishing you were there to comfort her through this. “I can’t.” she cried out, shaking her head as tears slowly fell down her cheeks.

“Yes, you can. You can do this.” Geraldine countered unflinchingly. Wanda continued shaking her head frantically. “Yes, you can!” she shouted at her.

The tears fell more steadily down Wanda’s cheeks as the fear set in. “I can’t.” She repeated tearfully. “I need Y/n. I need Y/n.” She begged, desperately seeking her one source of comfort.

Leaning down, Geraldine checked how far along Wanda was. “It’s time to start pushing.” She said excitedly with a smile. Wanda continued shaking her head. “You’re ready! Push! Push, Wanda!” She encouraged supportively.

With a scream, Wanda began pushing. All of the objects in the house began moving on their own until they suddenly stopped when Wanda’s screaming stopped. The soft coos coming from the baby filled the quiet room. “It’s a boy.” Geraldine announced with a smile. The smile that lit up Wanda’s face was incomparable to the happiness she felt in her heart. Geraldine wrapped him up handed her the baby.

The baby who was a piece of herself and you… the person she loved most in the world. “Hi... Hi.” She whispered to the baby as she traced a finger delicately along his cheek. “Oh, he’s perfect.”

Almost as soon as the words left her lips, you rushed into the home with Dr. Nielson on your back. “Oh no, I missed it.” You whispered sadly. The frown on your face faded when Wanda looked up at you with a smile that stopped your world. The way her eyes shone took your breath away. The world around you both faded as you stared at one another in an awestruck haze of love.

Indistinctly you could see Geraldine pull a shaky Dr. Nielson out of the room as you dazedly made your way over to your wife, kneeling at her side. “Every time I think I couldn’t be more in love...” You breathed out as your eyes fell on the bundle in her arms. Wanda’s breath hitched slightly as emotion flooded her eyes.

“Y/n, would you like to meet your son?” Wanda asked softly.

As gently as you could, you took the baby into your arms. The smile on your face growing even more when he looked up at you. Wanda’s heart fluttered at the sight. “Hello, little Billy.” You cooed as he took hold of your finger. .

Wanda tilted her head in surprise, unable to hold back her smile at your words. “Billy?”

With a nod, you lovingly looked back at her. “Yes. Billy.” Making sure Billy was secure in your arms, you leaned down to kiss Wanda. Just as your lips were about to connect, she began screaming.

Unsure of what was going on, you began yelling as well. “What?” you shouted in bewilderment. When you glanced down you realized what was happening. “Oh! There’s another baby coming!”

“Charlie!” Wanda shouted through the contraction.

“Wanda, push! Push!” You encouraged lovingly, all the while making sure Billy was safe in your arms. With you by her side, the fear that Wanda felt earlier vanished.

With you by her side she knew she could do anything.

When all was said and done, Dr. Nielson did one final glance over the twins. “Twenty fingers and twenty toes. You have one healthy baby boy and one healthy baby girl on your hands.” He declared cheerfully as he handed the baby in his arms back to Wanda.

Wanda eagerly took the baby back in her arms as you gently rocked the other. “Thank you, doctor.” She responded with a smile.

He turned and pointed at Geraldine. “And thank you for all your assistance, young lady. I think you might have what it takes to be a nurse.” Both Geraldine and Wanda shared amused looks with one another at the comment.

“Allow me to walk you out, doctor.” You offered as you gently placed the baby down in the crib.

Dr. Nielson nervously shifted. “As long as we’re actually walking this time.” He replied skeptically as he followed you out the door.

“Well, Dr. Nielson, I hope you’re still able to make your trip.” You said polietly with a smile when you both reached the front yard.

Again, Dr. Nielson shifted in place. “Yes, my trip. I don’t think we’ll make it after all. Small towns, you know, so hard to… escape.” He murmured cryptically before walking off.

For a moment you stared after him, wondering what he meant. Shaking it off, you turned to head back inside only to see Agnes and Ellie whispering amongst themselves by one of the walls that you shared with the house next door. “Hello, neighbors!” You called politely.

“Hey!” They replied suspiciously in unison before going back to whispering amongst themselves.

Unable to help yourself, you wandered over. “Remarkable day we’re having. Did you lose power too?” You asked in a friendly tone, noting the way their postures changed when you were near.

“Sure did, but Ralph looks better in the dark so I’m not complaining.” Agnes joked.

Ellie nodded along. “I barely even noticed it... I’m very resourceful.” She added with a wink.

You chuckled uncomfortably as they joined in with their own laughter. “Well. I better get back to Wanda.” You mumbled awkwardly, turning back towards the house.

“Y/n.” Ellie called after you, causing you to turn around. “Is Geraldine inside with Wanda?”

With furrowed brows you stepped closer to them, feeling unnerved by their behavior. “Yes, why?”

Ellie hesitated, almost as if she was unsure if she wanted to tell you. “She’s new to town. Brand new.”

“No family, no husband.” Agnes added, her expression portraying how odd she found the situation.

You shrugged indifferently. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with that.” You countered with a confused smile.

Agnes made a short noise of disagreement and Ellie pursed her lips. “No home.” Agnes eventually supplied.

“What?” you questioned disbelievingly. “What do you mean she has no home?”

Ellie shifted uncomfortably. “She came here because-… She came here because we’re all-… You are-…”

“She came here because we’re all what? I’m what? What are you trying to tell me?” You replied, feeling your patience wearing thin.

Shaking her head, Ellie continued. “She came here because you need to-”

“Stop it.” Agnes cut her off sharply as she turned to face her head on. You noticed the way she shook her head.

Almost as though someone flipped a switch, they both became upbeat again. “Well, we better get going.” Agnes rang the bell on her bike with a wink.

Ellie nodded along. “Those papers aren’t going to write themselves.” She said cheerfully as they both walked off leaving you thoroughly confused as you made your way back to your wife. ____________ “You’re such a strong lady.” Geraldine complimented Wanda who waved her hand bashfully in response. “Can you believe it? Twins!” She leaned forward to get a better look at the babies nestled safely in their cribs.

The smile on Wanda’s face was bright with all the love she felt in the moment. She stared at the two babies in the crib with Geraldine, her smile becoming somber. “I’m a twin.” She confessed. Her eyes glimmered with memories as she looked over at Geraldine. “I had a brother, his name was… Pietro. Y/n had a sister too. Anna. One in memory of each.” She whispered out softly her eyes falling to the babies again.

Lost in her memories, Wanda began singing a sokovian lullaby that would forever be nestled into her heart. The memory both painful and beautiful as she continued to sing to her children.

“He was killed by Ultron, wasn’t he?” Geraldine questioned suddenly, her expression grave. “And Y/n’s sister. Hydra murdered her to torture Y/n, didn’t they?”

The song died on Wanda’s lips with Geraldine’s words. Her brows furrowed as she processed what she had just heard. Her shoulders tensed. “What did you say?” A tear fell down her cheek. When Geraldine didn’t reply, Wanda turned towards her. “What did you say?” She repeated, her eyes cold.

A forced smile overcame Geraldine’s features. “I said, Wanda, you’re such a strong lady.” She moved to hover by the couch. “Should I say it again for good measure?”

“No.” Wanda said sharply. “What did you say about Pietro and Anna?”

Geraldine seemed to think for a moment, feigning confusion. “Pietro? Anna?” Wanda tilted her head. The babies began crying. “Hey, I’ll take a shift rocking the babies.” She offered as she began heading back over to the cribs.

Wanda stepped protectively in front of them. “No. I think you should leave.” She told her, her tone dark.

“Oh, Wanda, don’t be like that.” Geraldine retorted tensely.

For the first time, Wanda noticed the necklace around Geraldine’s neck. “What is that?” She insisted, pointing shakily to piece of jewelry. “That symbol.”

“I-uh…” Geraldine stuttered as she took hold of the necklace.

“Who are you?” Wanda demanded. The threat in her eyes sent a chill down Geraldine’s spine.

Geraldine faintly shook her head, her eyes troubled. “I don’t-”

“Who are you?” Wanda repeated sharply. The calm that overtook Wanda was unsettling as she slowly moved forward. Geraldine stepped back fearfully.

The front door burst open as you rushed inside. “Wanda, where’s Geraldine?” You questioned as you looked around the house.

“Oh, she left, honey. She had to rush home.” Wanda replied easily with her back towards you as she watched the babies sleep peacefully. . . . . “If no one is going to say it, I will. That episode was adorable.” Darcy emphasized as she watched both you and Wanda settle on the couch with a baby in each of your arms. Wanda leaned over and lovingly pressed a kiss to your lips as the credits rolled. “Aww… I mean, c’mon. Look at them, they’re so precious. And now they started a family.” Darcy cooed as she watched the screen fade to black.

There was silence for a moment. “The babies are cute.” Steve admitted quietly. The sound of a soft thud filled the room as Natasha once again hit the back of Steve’s head. “What? They are!”

Natasha shook her head. “They are, but the issue here is we’re being given a filtered broadcast. Someone is controlling what we’re allowed to see. And even worse, we don’t know what happened to Monica.”

“Natasha is right.” Fury interjected. “Darcy, you’ll be going to S.W.O.R.D. so you can gain some intel about what they’re planning.”

Darcy’s head snapped up in shock. “I’m just the astrophysicist here, not the Russian spy.” Natasha smirked at the comment.

“Even more of a reason they won’t suspect you.” Fury countered easily. “You can find Hayward’s plan… and find out if they’re the reason agent Fletcher is now a part of this.”

Steve crossed his arms. “Amelia was Y/n’s partner the entire time she was away from the Avengers. I have on good authority that they were close. I can’t imagine she’s there to harm her.”

“That was before the blip.” Natasha said calculatingly. “We can’t assume anything. She’s playing her part a little too well.”

As Steve was about to respond, Fury’s phone went off. They all watched with bated breath as he took the call. When he hung up, he turned to face them a pensive expression on his face. “It seems as though Monica has been found. Blasted through the hex.”

“You called it the hex!” Darcy exclaimed as they all turned to look at her in exasperation. “Sorry, not the time.”

This part may just be the longest piece I’ve ever written because there was so much I wanted to fit in. Also! If anyone wants to know what song I imagined Wanda and Y/n dancing around to in the beginning just let me know because I imagined a specific song in that scene, but didn’t feel it was important to include lol. Sorry for writing out Tommy, creating a different twin for Billy felt important to the story to properly express Wanda’s emotions.

As always, I hope you all enjoyed!

Thoughts and comments always welcome! I love hearing from you all! :)

#wanda maximoff #wanda #wanda marvel #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x reader #wandavision #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #mcu x reader #wanda mcu #MCU x Y/N #Avengers #avengers x you #avengers x y/n

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satendou · 4 years

Text

⟼ suna rintarou

⍣ cockwarming mini series | previous: iwaizumi | next: hanamaki | 3/?

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: suna/reader

⇢ au: aged up!au

⇢ summary: suna is annoyed

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: exhibitionism, humiliation, degradation

⇢ word count: 716

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: if you wanna see a particular character or situation sooner rather than later, let me know.

“hey, rin,” you ask tentatively, shuffling your feet as you stand before him. he barely spares you a glance, humming to let you know he’s listening though. “how much longer are we gonna be here?”

only then does suna look at you properly, eyes traveling from your flustered face down your body, taking in the way you fidget with the hem of the short skirt you’re wearing. your thighs are clenched together and suna instantly realizes why you’re asking.

“really? can’t even handle a few hours without my cock?” he asks, drawing the words out. he doesn’t bother to keep his voice down, gaining the attention of the twins sitting on the couch across from him.

atsumu snickers behind his hand but osamu rolls his eyes, returning to the game the three of them had been playing for hours now.

you feel heat flood your face, head bowing even further as you shake your head. “it isn’t that, i--”

“no?” suna drawls, not even setting his controller to the side. the game starts up again at your back, the sounds of buttons being pressed mixing with the music. “so if i were to reach into your panties, you wouldn’t be soaked already?”

you can’t answer that, instead staring at your feet, hoping this will be over soon. when you asked, you should have expected this, and you know suna knows it.

“i bet you were hoping this would happen,” he says, watching the way you shrink in on yourself. he heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes-- which you miss because you’re still studying your sock covered toes-- before he unzips his shorts. “come here then, since you wanna act like a needy little slut. you’ll just keep whining otherwise.”

the game is paused behind you again, atsumu and osamu watching you, waiting for you to make a move. on one hand, you know if you refuse that you’ll just piss suna off but on the other, getting openly fucked in front of the twins is so humiliating you aren’t sure you can handle it.

“i’m not gonna wait all day, princess,” he says, and the familiar pet name is so condescending you want to cry. “you either hop on or you won’t get anything. if you were so worried about atsumu and osamu seeing, you should’ve kept your mouth shut.”

you know he’s serious so, with shaking fingers, you push your panties down, letting them pool at your ankles while trying to keep yourself covered with your skirt. you aren’t sure why at least atsumu hasn’t said anything yet, but you assume it has something to do with osamu.

screwing your eyes shut, you go to straddle suna’s lap only for his hand to clamp on your hip, tutting you.

“no, i don’t think so. i don’t wanna hear you whining in my ear. face the tv.”

you have the distinct feeling he’s doing this so the twins can see you, watching the shame covering your face as you sink down on his cock. you make a noise in the back of your throat, clapping your hands over your mouth to stifle anymore as he forces you to take him to the hilt in one stroke.

“i fuckin’ knew it,” he hisses, hand squeezing your hip so tight it hurts. “you’re soaked. you little slut.”

you whine at his words, trying to lift yourself up off his cock despite the audience, but he won’t let you.

“you’ll have to get yourself off without moving,” he says, pressing start on the game again. the only sign that he’s being affected by any of this is the higher pitch of his voice. otherwise, he’s playing the game perfectly, running circles around the npcs. “don’t make me lose.”

you can’t help it-- you look over at atsumu and osamu. both of them seem completely uninterested in the fact that you’re openly sitting on suna’s cock, already creaming around him just from being filled.

stuffing your fingers in your mouth, you let your hands trail up your thighs, trying to ignore the sounds of battle going on on the tv. he feels so good inside you, twitching and throbbing, grazing every sweet spot inside you without even moving. your fingers graze over your clit and you clench down around him, hips jerking against your will.

suna hisses behind you, causing osamu and atsumu to turn and look at you, a small smirk rising up on the latter’s face. his eyes follow the movement of your hand beneath your skirt, heat creeping up your neck in embarrassment at his staring.

“well, if you’re going to act like this, may as well give ‘em a show,” suna says, and flips your skirt up to expose your stretched cunt. you spasm around him, covering your eyes with your hand. your fingers stop moving but it doesn’t matter because suna has given up the game as a lost cause and takes their place. “you really are such a slut. i felt you tighten up, you know.”

you hate the condescension in his tone, hate how it makes you so wet, hate how it drives you closer to your orgasm. there are tears in your eyes and streaming down your cheeks, your hips moving on suna’s cock in slow circles, dragging across your slick walls. you’re going to come in front of the twins while suna whispers things in your ear that make your pussy throb and more tears sting your eyes.

“you gonna come on my cock in front of them?” he asks, fingers pressing harder against your clit while his other hand keeps you planted flush against his hips. his chin is resting on your shoulder, looking more bored than he would if he was watching the news while you squirm against his hold. “go on then, might as well. ‘m gonna have to punish you later, though. what a hassle.”

you aren’t sure if it’s the way his cock throbs inside you at the mention of punishment or if it’s the fact that you know suna’s punishment is going to leave you unable to walk for the rest of the weekend, but you find yourself tumbling over the precipice of your orgasm before you realize it’s on you.

you stifle your scream with your hand as suna’s fingers rub more furiously, drawing out your orgasm and tipping it over into painful. your toes curl, feet locking around the back of his calves as you fall back into his chest.

“‘rin, ‘rin please, no more,” you whine, trying to squirm away from his fingers. “please, please, please.”

you forget for a moment that you have an audience until atsumu whistles low, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline while he smirks. “that was quite a show, suna. got anything else?”

the hem of your skirt is flipped down again, covering you up before your partner picks up his controller again. “maybe later. let’s finish this game.” to you he he adds, “turn around.”

you do as told, quickly scrambling around so you’re straddling his hips like you first wanted to, only to be forced down on his cock once again, keening at the almost painful pleasure. you can’t imagine the mess all over his shorts and thighs, knowing that’s going to earn you yet another punishment, that he has to ride home like that.

but you can’t think about that right now-- your eyes are feeling heavy, fluttering closed as you hide your face in his neck, hands pinned against his stomach. your breathing evens out before you even realize you’re falling asleep, resting your full weight against his chest.

his arms lock around your back, fingers flying over the buttons through muscle memory, before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. his focus returns to the game, shifting a little every time your walls flutter around him in your sleep. he isn’t sure if he’ll make it home without fucking you first, but the twins have a spare room and you’ll be nice and refreshed after your little nap.

smirking against your hair, he watches atsumu’s character die on the screen. they probably wouldn’t be opposed to another show.

⇥ masterlist

⍣ cockwarming mini series | previous: iwaizumi | next: hanamaki

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #rintaro suna x reader #haikyuu x reader #.cockwarming series

968 notes · View notes

shyficwriter · 3 years

Text

Sick

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu & Kraglin)

Summary: You are quite sick, and unfortunately for everyone else, you won't stay in bed. Might have something to do with being delirious with fever, or maybe you're just a terrible patient. Who's to say?

Authors note: Content warning for hallucinated gore (I think? maybe horror is a better description? Let me know), and mentions of blood, and of course mentions of all the nastiness that comes with a stomach sickness (Don't worry, I kept it clean, didn't want to gross myself out lol) The characters are safe, story has a happy ending.

Word Count: 7,120

Damn, you felt like shit.

It was the first morning in forever where you could remember not actually wanting to get out of bed. Everything was sore, and damn it was just so cold. Why was it cold? Peter usually kept the ship decently warm?

You sighed and rolled out of bed, pausing momentarily when the room began to spin and your stomach tightened in nausea. Damn. That mission the other day must have taken more out of you than you thought. You didn't think you'd still be this sore and tired two days later. This was worse than yesterday, and you weren't exactly expecting the nausea, but at least it had passed.

Oh well. Nothing you can really do about it. Besides, you had more pressing matters, like figuring out why it was so damn cold. You were shaking and had to fight your teeth from chattering. Better put on a sweater.

After washing up and getting ready you headed out of your room to ask Peter why it was so cold, maybe check on the boiler yourself if he hadn't. You found him with Gamora and Kraglin on the flight deck discussing the best course to Berhert, where you guys were planning to dock for a few days and maybe chase down a few leads for new jobs.

"Why is it so freaking cold in here?" you ask. "Did the boiler break down or something?"

They turned to look at you and it was then you realized they were in their regular clothes, not even wearing jackets to keep them warm. Peter was even wearing short sleeves. "I feel fine?" he said, looking to Gamora. "Are you cold?"

She shook her head, adding that if anything, she thought Peter kept it a little too warm on the ship.

You raised an eyebrow, wondering how they could possibly be warm when you were freezing. You shook your head gently. "Guess it's just me then," you grumble.

"You ok? Ya look a little pale there?" Kraglin asked after noticing you were at least a shade or two lighter than normal and how the skin around your eyes wasn't normally that dark.

"I'm fine, Kraglin," you say, trying not to sound like too much of an asshole despite being cranky that you were so cold and achy.

Peter looked at you suspiciously a moment before saying, "Hey, come here a sec."

"Why?" you ask, just as suspiciously.

"Just come here."

You roll your eyes as you approach. "Fine." Once you stopped a few feet from him you asked, "What?"

He raised his hand out toward your forehead, and in your surprise you leaned away quick, instantly regretting it as the room began to spin again.

You gathered yourself somewhat quickly and noticed his hand coming back. You smacked it away. "What are you doing??" you asked through squinty eyes.

"I'm trying to feel your temperature, dummy. Quit moving!" he responded, irritated when you dodged him once again.

"What am I? A child? I don't need you to feel my temperature, mom." you sassed, taking a few steps backward out of the way. "I'm fine." you say irritably.

"Well you like shit."

You almost laughed in surprise at his bluntness as you leaned back with a mildly offended expression. "Well fuck you too, dickweed. You aren't exactly a looker yourself." You didn't really think he was ugly, you were just being mean, but it made Kraglin laugh anyway.

Peter shot him a look before turning back to you and saying, "I didn't mean it like that. I just think you should probably go back to bed if you aren't feeling well."

"First off, I have shit to do, I'm not going back to bed. Secondly, I never said I wasn't feeling well, I just said I was cold," you say bitterly, hugging your arms close to your chest as another chill hit you.

"Then why are you sweating?" Peter asked.

You looked at him a moment, confused, before bringing your own hand up to your forehead. Sure enough, you were starting to sweat a little around your hairline. You wiped your hand on your sweater as you gave him a bitter look before turning and walking away.

"Go back to bed!" Peter called after you.

You flipped him the bird, not turning around as you continued out of the room. "You don't tell me what to do. You ain't my mother."

Peter narrowed his eyes as you walked away. "Yeah... well... Good!"

Gamora rolled her eyes at both yours and Peter's immaturity and returned the conversation to the navigation.

***

You made you way down to the kitchen, thinking maybe you'd make some toast. Your stomach felt a bit crampy now, and you thought toast might be light enough to soothe it before you got started on your chores. Maybe some milk. Milk was nice and gentle, right?

Rocket and Groot were already in the kitchen eating some cereal when you got there. You nodded toward them in greeting as you put down some bread in the toaster. You pulled down a glass and went to open the fridge to pour yourself some milk while you waited when Rocket spoke up.

"Oh hey, we're out of milk, if that's what you're after."

You sighed. "Juice will have to do then," you say, grabbing the bottle and pouring yourself a glass of the light green liquid. You leaned against the counter and sipped at it as Rocket made conversation.

"You said you're going to blow out the dryer line today, right?"

"Yeah."

"About how long are you gonna be? I need to wash a load and I was hoping to get it started before I got to work fixing Groot's game-thing so it might be done by the time I finished."

"Shouldn't be too long. Should only take abo-"

Just then the toaster popped, making you jump a mile, and Rocket and Groot laugh at your reaction.

"Oh man, I don't get why you Terrans are so scared of that! Haha!"

You only glare at him before removing your toast and turning your attention to buttering it rather than engage about how you were definitely not scared of a toaster like you would have any other time. You just didn't feel like it today.

"I am Groot?"

"Yeah, you ok? Normally you yell back when I tease you about the toaster. You sick or something?"

You were finished buttering your toast so you turned to give him an unimpressed look. "What? If I don't yell at you, you think I must be sick?"

Rocket shrugged, "I mean, yeah?" He collected his and Groot's now empty bowls and hopped over to put them in the sink. "You've always yelled something back, what else I'm I supposed to think?" He turned back towards you and looked you over. "And are you supposed to look that... dead?"

You narrowed your eyes. "You supposed to be that bald?"

"What? I'm literally covered in fur." Rocket said, looking at you like he thought you were stupid.

"You won't be if I shave you, you little shit."

"I am Groot."

"I'm not sure if cranky's the word I'd use right now, buddy." Rocket said, throwing you a sideways glance. "Come on, let's go see if Drax wants to play cards or something." With that the pair left the room, leaving you alone to nibble at your toast and sip at your juice in peace.

It didn't exactly help the cramping in your stomach though, you realized as you placed your glass in the sink. You took a deep breath as another chill hit you and you rested over the sink a bit to get your bearings, taking a few more deep breaths hoping it would ease the cramping in your stomach.

Once you felt steady enough you left the kitchen, intent to get started on today's tasks, first being the dryer line, then changing the various air filters about the ship. You'd probably also get around to checking all the smoke detectors before lunch, but for now you just needed to get down to the laundry room to get started.

God, it was so cold.

You made your way down the hall from the kitchen and turned off towards the laundry room when you were startled by Yondu. He had been coming up the other hallway in the direction you were now headed and decided to greet you with a clap on the back and a loud, "Hey, squirt! What'cha doing?"

He always called you squirt, pipsqueak, munchkin, just because he knew it annoyed you to be called childish nicknames. To be fair, he did still call Peter, a fully grown man, 'boy,' as well as also sometimes calling him 'squirt,' and Gamora 'girl,' so at least you knew it wasn't personal.

The startle, as well as the impact of his hand meeting your shoulder sent you forward. You grabbed hold of the wall and tried to steady yourself as the hall spun around you.

"Whoa, ya alright there?" Yondu asked, not expecting to have thrown you so off balance.

You look up at him weakly and nod, breathing deeply through your nose as you held a hand to your stomach, still bent over slightly from where you had caught yourself. You thought you were going to be sick, but you were doing your damnedest to keep it together. "Yeah." you swallowed, trying to fight the slight tremors beginning to shake you. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Ya don't look it. I think you need to take your ass back to bed."

You glare at him. "I'm fine. I just need a sec." As if your body were trying to betray you, another chill shot through your spine, making you shake as a strong cramp made you fold into yourself with a, "Ow, fuck!"

Shit. You knew what was coming and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You quickly turned away from Yondu and vomited on the floor with such force that it felt like something had ripped your stomach open and you fought not to whimper at the pain. You heard him make a disgusted noise, and you didn't blame him.

Teeth chattering and dizzy, you looked at the mess and said, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I'll clean that up." Your vision swam as you shook, one hand gripping at the wall, the other still wrapped about your middle.

Before Yondu could think to respond you had dropped to your knees, thankfully missing the puddle of sick on the floor, and vomited again.

You couldn't stop shaking, and resigned into leaning into the wall, eyes closed as you turned your forehead to rest against the cold metal. Your breath came in shudders as you heard Yondu cry out, "Shit! Quill!" He sounded urgent, but you didn't have time to think about that, you were too busy shaking and trying not to vomit again.

You thought you heard Rocket's voice from up the hall say, "See! I knew you were sick!" and you briefly opened your eyes to look up and make out the little blurry figure approaching before closing them again, weakly throwing him the bird as you focused on keeping it together, both arms now clutching your stomach as you grimaced in pain. It would be over soon. You just needed to gather yourself so you could clean up the mess you made and then you could get on with your day. God your stomach hurt...

You heard Yondu call out for Peter a second time, more urgently than the first and adding, "Kraglin! Somebody! Get down here!" when you lost your battle against your stomach and vomited for a third time. This time Rocket's cries for Peter joined him. You wondered why they were freaking out and calling for Peter when you felt Yondu grab your shoulders to stop you from falling forwards, causing your eyes to pop open allowing you to see your puddle of sick was now red, though you couldn't remember eating anything red... Was the juice you drank red? No, it was green... "Well that's not ideal..." you slurred out, realizing that it probably definitely shouldn't be red, but couldn't quite get a grasp on exactly why you knew it shouldn't be.

The last thing you heard was the sounds of boots thundering down the hallway, getting closer as they mingled with the noises of Yondu and Rocket's shouting before everything went dark.

***

You woke up in your bed laying on top of your sheets. You still didn't feel great, your stomach still felt crampy and also now burned a bit, but it was better than the sharp pain of before and at least you didn't really feel nauseous anymore.

It was still really cold though. You sat up and your head swam. You looked down to see you were still in your sweater and contemplated putting another one on before deciding against it. You were going to be up moving around doing your chores in a second, you'd likely warm up then.

You gingerly pulled yourself out of bed, thinking you might go get some water first, when you looked over at your nightstand for the time and found that someone had already left you a glass. How kind. You sipped at the water and silently grumbled when you realized you had been asleep for nearly two hours.

Wait... why were you in bed again? You sort of remembered getting sick. Peter probably made you lay down a bit. He was a mother hen like that.

No matter, you were up now. Time to get to work.

You left your room and had made it about 20 feet before Gamora spotted you and ordered you back to bed. You made out her two stern faces staring at you... wait two? You thought she only had one of those?

"Why?" you ask, wondering if Peter's mother-hening had rubbed off on her. Way you saw it, you only threw up, it wasn't the end of the world.

"Because you're sick, that's why!" Gamora replied, sounding exasperated.

"I'm fine." you assured, making a face a her. "You worry too much, chicken. The sky's still there." Hmm... you might have gotten that phrase wrong, or did you? You couldn't quite remember. Oh well.

"Bed. Now." she ordered. You blinked and suddenly she once again only had one face. One very cross looking face. Oh well. You still knew better than to argue with her, regardless of how many faces she chose to wear today, so begrudgingly you turned around and went back to your room with a dramatic sigh.

When enough time passed that you were certain she'd be gone, you attempted your escape again. This time you got about halfway to the laundry when you spotted little Groot in the hallway. He looked at you contemplatively and said, "I am Groot?" which you took to mean he was probably asking if you were supposed to be up and out of bed. Leave it to Peter to tell the whole damn ship.

You gave the little guy your best smile and made a shushing gesture with your finger to your lips. "Our secret, right buddy?"

He smiled and ran off.

Taking that as an agreement to silence you went on your way only to not make it much further before hearing someone tell you to "Stop right there!" You turned to find Gamora and Peter looking very disapproving while Rocket stood there looking smug with little Groot sat on his shoulder. Knowing you were defeated, your shoulders fell as you said, "I know, I know. 'Back to bed.'" As you made your way past them you looked down at the little twig and muttered, "Traitor." only to be met with him sticking his little tongue out at you playfully.

Your third attempt was much the same, only this time it was Mantis who caught you and she wasn't quiet about it at all when she went running off yelling to Yondu that you were out of bed again, much to your chagrin as it prompted him to come out of a nearby room. He didn't even have to say anything. He just stared you down, and you held up your hands in defeat and said "Ok! Ok! I'm going!" before scurrying the best you could back to your room.

You didn't even get out of your room on your fourth attempt, having opened the door to find Drax had been walking by at just that moment. He stopped and narrowed his eyes at you with arms crossed, daring you to try it. You looked at him awkwardly a moment before sighing and just closing the door. Maybe you'd take a nap and wait them out. You were a little sleepy...

On your fifth attempt you got nearly to the doors of the laundry when you heard someone shout, "Where do you think you're going?! Get back to bed!"

You turned around irritably to see it was Peter and Kraglin now, looking fairly cross. Seriously!? Why can't they just let you be!

You crossed your arms. "I have to blow out the dryer line, asshat. Where are you going?" you sassed.

Kraglin leaned to Peter and muttered something you couldn't quite make out. Something about the flight hangar? Oh well, probably wasn't important.

Peter looked at you like you were a misbehaving child. "I'm going to take you back to bed, that where I'm going."

You rolled your eyes and waved him off this time, turning your back on him to continue on your quest.

"Hey!" he scolded, effortlessly catching up with you and grabbing your arm to stop you. "I'm not kidding, you need to go back to bed." He put a hand to your forehead, this time succeeding since he had you by the arm and you couldn't get away. "You're burning up. Come on, back to bed." he repeated.

"Screw off." you say weakly, the sudden motion of being grabbed making you dizzy.

"See this is what I mean. You need to rest." Peter's tone was slightly more gentle now, but it didn't make you any less cranky. "Do you really think you're gonna puke blood and then just be allowed to walk about like everything's fine? You're crazy. You need to stay in bed until a doctor can see you!"

Huh. So that hadn't been a dream... Maybe it was the fever talking, but you didn't really care too much. You didn't want or need to see a doctor. You tried to reason with him.

"If I don't blow the lint out of the line it could catch fire. You want that, Star-Brat?" Ok, so you were still a bit cranky, probably could have said that nicer. Oh well. You tried to pry his hand away but failed, sighing in frustration.

"Already did it." Kraglin lied, throwing a hinting look to Peter.

Taking the cue Peter nodded. "Uh- Yeah, he got it done while you were sleeping.'"

"See?" Kraglin said, "Now you got nothing to worry about and you can just get some rest."

You jerked your arm and this time succeeded in freeing yourself, but not without feeling faint. "Nice try." you say, stumbling back a little. "There's still other stuff I needed to get done."

Peter grabbed your arm again, afraid you might fall backward if he didn't, and this time wasted no time marching you in the direction of your room. "And it can all wait until tomorrow. Right now you rest. This is the last time we're gonna tell you."

You looked at him confused. Last time? Had there been others? Oh right... you thought remembered him and Gamora yelling at you once before... oh and Yondu... you had forgotten Yondu. Bunch of mother hens...

Too weak to free yourself again you settled for complaining that you were fine, and for Peter to just let you go about your business. It all went on deaf ears.

On the way back to your room the three of you passed by Yondu, who laughed and said, "Told ya the squirt would try and escape again, didn't I? Just as stubborn as the two of you boys."

Peter chuckled, looking to the blue man and saying, "Remember that time we had to literally tie Kraglin to the bed when he caught the Kree flu and wouldn't stay in the Med Bay?"

Kraglin rolled his eyes and Yondu laughed, looking at you. "Now there's an idea!"

You shot him a look. "If you tie me down I swear I'll gut all of you," you say crankily.

"Stay in bed then and we won't have a problem," Yondu grinned, adding, "Don't make us have to knock you out."

You glared at him again but finally allowed Peter to lead you back to your room with minimal grumbling.

Once in your room he threw back your covers and ordered you to get into bed or else he and Kraglin would tie you to it. Afraid they might actually follow through with the threat, you obeyed, grumbling about how they were treating you like a child.

"Quit acting like one and we won't have to," Kraglin quipped, pointing to the water glass on your table and stating how you needed to keep your fluids up and that it better be gone by the time one of them came back to check on you.

You just turned on your side away from them and grumbled out a sleepy, "Yeah, yeah. Leave me alone."

Satisfied that you'd finally stay put the two men left the room. Once Peter closed the door behind them Kraglin said, "I guess I better actually go clean that dryer line now, huh?"

Peter chuckled. "Yeah, maybe."

***

Peter met up with Gamora on the flight deck. "How soon until the Doc can get here?"

As soon as he, Gamora, and Kraglin had all ran down from the flight deck to see what Yondu and Rocket were yelling about and found you passed out in Yondu's arms in front of a puddle of your own all-too-bloody sick they immediately sent Kraglin back up to call one of Berhert's doctors to try and get one to meet them at the ship, knowing they were still about three days out from even thinking about landing.

"Still about a day out," Gamora answered.

"I'm getting nervous," Peter admitted since it was just he and Gamora alone now. He told her how you were you were practically burning to the touch when he was dragging you back to your room for the final time, and even though you put on a good act with the banter, you couldn't hide from him the fact that you couldn't stop shivering or the way you looked like death warmed over.

He also told her what Kraglin had said, how they thought the fever was getting to you. When they found you last you were making your way towards the flight hangar, but you thought you were headed towards the laundry. They were on opposite ends of the ship.

Gamora validated his concerns, taking his hand to comfort him before saying, "Don't worry, the doctor will get here in time."

Peter sighed and nodded.

If- No. When you got better, Peter was going to kick your ass for making him worry.

***

You woke up again a few hours later feeling thirsty and achy. You looked over to see you still had about a sip of water left and drank it. Placing the glass back on the nightstand you stared at the ceiling for a moment before realizing you also needed to pee. Ugh. Inconvenient. If you couldn't work or do anything else you'd at least rather be sleeping. Actually, now that you thought about it, right now you didn't even want to work anymore. You just wanted sleep.

You knew surely you wouldn't get yelled at for being out of bed for getting up to use the toilet, so you sat up with the intent to roll out of bed and walk across the hall to do your business. Maybe you'd get some more water on the way as well.

No sooner had you sat up did you see it in the corner. Your stomach flipped and you rubbed your eyes, but it was still there. With horror in your eyes and your urge to use the toilet completely forgotten, you stared at the horrifying sight, unable to make a sound.

In the corner of the room was a humanoid figure, looking like it had been skinned alive. It was eyeless, only dark oozing holes remained where its eyes should have been, same with its nose. It was twitching grotesquely, blood and yellow ooze sloughing off its body as it did so, puddling about the floor at its feet. It tilted its head at you with a wicked toothy grin of sharp yellow teeth.

You pressed yourself against the headboard, shaking like mad, only a tiny squeak able to leave your throat. Sweat tickled down your forehead but you didn't dare move to wipe it away.

You sat like this for what felt like an eternity but was likely only a few moments before you heard the door to your room open and heard Yondu's voice.

"Me and Rat just came to make sure ya didn't run away again." He chuckled, before noticing the state of you and his tone changed. "What's the matter?"

You didn't look at him, didn't say anything, not wanting to take your eyes off the monster or do anything that might spur it into motion, and pointed a trembling hand at it.

Yondu looked where you were pointing. There was nothing there.

He looked down at a confused Rocket and just muttered, "Shit," realizing that you were likely hallucinating from the fever. He spoke to you softly, easing himself into the room so as to not make any sudden movements, "Listen here now, there's nothing there. It's alright."

You swallowed hearing his words. There was nothing there. There was nothing there. It couldn't hurt you. It couldn't-

It took a step towards you.

"Please," you managed to get out, jerking back into the headboard, trembling. You silently begged that you would fall asleep, or wake up, anything to make the nightmare before you go away.

Yondu's eyes widened and he held up his hands as he took another gentle step toward you despite how you still hadn't looked his way. "It's alright, you're ok, whatever it is- it's not real."

"Please," you say again, pleadingly, "Please knock me out."

Yondu looked at you in confusion. "What?"

"Please... Please. Knock me out. Sedate me- I don't care." You begged. You believed his voice when it said the creature wasn't real, or at very least you wanted to believe it very badly. However, believing it wasn't real didn't change the fact that you could still see it. Tears started to leak from your eyes. "Please make it stop."

Seeing you beg like that tore at something in Yondu's heart. You guys all did scary shit all the time. Came with the job of being part of the "Guardians of the Galaxy." Everyone had seen each other scared at some point, but this was different.

He spoke softly. "Ok, ok." He looked at Rocket for assistance. When he had threatened to knock you out earlier it had only been a joke. Other than sucker-punching you, which he had no intention of doing, he didn't actually have anything he could give you that would knock you out.

Rocket spoke up, uncharacteristically softly, trying to be helpful. "Look, it's ok, we're here, you're safe." He made to jump up on the bed before Yondu could stop him.

A reddish oozing blob similar to the creature in the corner but with reddish eyes jumped up by your feet and you screamed.

Yondu's scolding cry to Rocket of "Dammit, boy! No!" was drowned out by your cry as you kicked and sent the horrible thing flying to the end of your bed. It just managed to keep from falling to the floor by sinking its claws into the blanket, and it stood back up with a shake. You shrieked as you threw your empty water glass right at the creatures head only for it to catch it and toss it aside on the bed.

Then you felt strong hands grab your wrists. You heard Yondu's voice calling your name, saying it was alright, that everything was ok, but it wasn't Yondu. It was the creature from the corner.

"I don't think that's helping!" Rocket said, hopping off the bed to narrowly avoid being kicked again.

"Well jumpin' up on the bed wasn't yer brightest idea either, boy!" Yondu scolded back. You were sliding down the headboard, trying to get away from him, so he switched tactics. He traded gripping your wrists in favor of wrapping his arms around you, effectively pining your arms with your wrists against your chest in a hug so he could rock you gently saying, "Shh, it's alright, you're safe. It's alright. Shh."

Tears ran down your face as the creature wrapped itself around you. You turned your face away, kicking and struggling to break free as you cried softly, "No no no! Please no!"

Yondu continued to rock you, hoping you'd snap out of it. After a couple more shushes and assurances that you were safe, that weren't quite working, he threw a sideways glance at Rocket. "This doesn't leave this room, got it?"

Rocket cheekily replied, "Me? Tell everyone you're a giant softie? Never!"

Yondu glared at him and was about to say something snarky in return when he heard Mantis from the doorway.

She peeked in nervously. "Is everything ok? I was walking by and I heard screaming."

Rocket got an idea. Drax had told him how Mantis had put Ego, an entire living planet, to sleep. Surely a mere Terran should be no problem. "Mantis come here, we need your help."

Mantis quickly but shyly entered your room. Seeing the state of you in Yondu's arms she worriedly asked the pair if you were ok.

"Not exactly." Rocket answered honestly, telling Mantis how the fever put you in a bad way, and they now needed her help to put you to sleep so you'd feel better.

"Think you can do that for us, Bug?" Yondu asked, still holding you tightly as you cried and struggled to get away, his eyes nearly pleading.

Mantis nodded.

You felt the creature's arms wrap tighter and you kicked fruitlessly. You had kept your eyes shut tightly, but upon feeling that you almost had an arm free you allowed them to open.

You regretted it.

There was now also a shorter monster, just like the one from the corner that had you now in its clutches. Dark horns protruded from its forehead and it opened its glistening maw as it reached a bloodied, oozing hand toward your face.

You threw back your head in a weak, terrified, cry of anguish, struggling against the hold of the other monster as you kicked and sobbed a desperate, "Please no! Don't!" before once again darkness enveloped you.

Your struggling ceased and Yondu laid you down to rest on your pillow, brushing some sweaty hair back from your eyes before standing up.

"Jeez," Rocket said, shaking his head and wondering aloud what you had seen that made you do "that."

Yondu looked down to see that Rocket wasn't just referencing your terrified crying and thrashing. He made a face of pity before sighing and looking up at Mantis. "Sweetheart, I need ya to go fetch Gamora for me, alright? If ya can't find her get Drax. I'm gonna go find some more sheets."

***

When Mantis came and told Gamora what had happened she immediately had Peter call the doctor they sent for to ask him what to do. You were clearly worsening and Peter was worried the doctor wouldn't get there in time.

Once on the line and after finding your temperature was over 40°C, and learning about the hallucinations, the doctor instructed that you needed to be cooled down immediately, and suggested they place you in a cold bath or shower. After that, they needed to keep your fluids up and monitor your fever.

Until the doctor would get there in about 18 hours, there was unfortunately not much else he could tell them to do.

So they waited.

***

The next time you fully came-to was nearly two days later.

You woke up in your bed feeling tired but better than before. Your stomach was still slightly achy, but the terrible cramping was gone. You also didn't feel as cold and stiff as you previously had.

You sat up, this time without the room performing cartwheels as you did so, and you took that as a good sign.

The room was dimly lit, but you still noticed you were wearing different clothes. You also felt... cleaner than you'd expect, for lack of better word. You realized the implications were that one of the others had likely bathed and re-dressed you and you resolved not to think too much about it as you felt a blush start to creep up your neck.

A loud snore startled you and you looked over to see Drax asleep in a chair between the wall and your bed, an open magazine spread across his stomach where he must have fallen asleep reading it.

You quietly swung your feet over the bed, intent on stretching your legs a bit, but you were startled again when your feet touched down on the floor and a loud tinkling of bells set off, startling Drax awake in turn.

After a grunt and a rub of his eyes he looked at you disapprovingly, asking what you were doing.

"I was just going to walk around a bit," you answer, doing your best not to be snarky. "Why the hell are there bells trip-wired to my bed?"

"You're supposed to stay in bed. You kept trying to get up and falling. It was Rocket's idea so we'd hear you trying to escape."

It was your turn to make a disapproving face, but you supposed you couldn't exactly be mad at them for caring, even if it seemed unnecessary. "Well, why are you here?"

"We've been taking shifts to watch over you, Peter said we were waiting for your fever to break, but I told him waiting for your temperature to return to normal would be sufficient."

"Oh," is all you could say, brushing off his absurd literalness. "Um, thank you." you add quietly. You hadn't realized.

"Yes. Now will you go back to bed, or do you need help going to the toilet again?"

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Well, each time you were almost awake enough to think you could walk the past couple days it was because you needed to use the toilet or you were going to vomit. I just assumed you were doing it again. You're very stubborn."

"No, Drax." you say, blushing fully now. You weren't sure if you were embarrassed more by his bluntness or the new knowledge that the others had to help you pee and clean up your sick. You didn't even want to think about if they had to wipe your ass. You'd literally die. "Even if I did, I can do it by myself. I feel much better now." It wasn't until then that it hit you what he had said. "Wait- Did you say two days?"

"I did."

"I've been out... for two days?"

"Yes."

"So... this whole time? ...You guys have been looking out for me?"

"Yes." Drax answered, seeming confused why you'd even ask. "Us and the doctor that came by yesterday." He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you crying?"

You wiped at your eyes quickly, having wished he hadn't noticed the tears that sprang to your eyes and filled your waterline. "I'm not," you sniff, looking down a the bed. "Just... Thanks. You didn't need to do that, so thanks. You can go to bed now. I feel better now. Sorry."

Drax stood. "Why are you apologizing? That's what family is supposed to do." He picked up a thermometer that had been placed on your nightstand and aimed it at your forehead. "And we did need to. You are small and weak like Peter. You would have died if we hadn't." The thermometer beeped and Drax read it. "You're right, your temperature is almost back to normal. But I suggest you still go back to sleep."

You wanted to tell him he was being dramatic about the dying part, but then you remembered that you actually didn't really remember much past seeing your bloody vomit, and you had absolutely no memory of any doctor, so you didn't push it.

"If your fever is gone you no longer need to be watched. I'll let the others know. Goodnight." Drax said, walking around the bed towards the door.

"Uh, Drax?"

He turned to you. "Yes?"

You wrapped your arms around his middle. "Thanks again."

He returned the hug, patting you on the back as he said, "You don't need to thank me. I know you'd do the same in return. Now sleep."

You pulled back from the hug and nodded, a gesture that you'd be good and go to sleep.

Drax seemed to want the confirmation of you getting back under the covers though, so with a light laugh huffed through your nose you crawled back between the sheets and obeyed. Seemingly satisfied, Drax finally left.

***

You woke the next morning feeling almost completely like yourself again.

You washed up and dressed, but not before removing the trip-wire bells from your bed, and then you made your way out of your room to get a glass of water and see if you could find the others.

Turned out, both the water and your teammates were all in the same place.

You walked into the kitchen to find everyone already inside. Before you could say anything Kraglin spoke up.

"Look! The world's worst patient lives!" he said with a grin.

"Nah, Krags, that's still you." Yondu corrected, giving you a wink as Peter agreed with him, but amended that it was a close race.

You walked over to a cabinet to get yourself a glass. "Drax told me what you guys did, and- well, thanks," you say walking over to the sink. "I mean, spare me the details, I don't want to hear anymore about it than what Drax already told me happened, but still, thanks. You didn't need to." You filled your glass and turned back to face them, sipping your water.

Yondu noted your blush and nudged you in the arm on his way to the coffee. "Don't mention it, kid."

This sentiment was met with nods and verbalizations of agreement from the others. You were family. That's what family did.

"Kay, but next time, which I hope there won't be, just stay in bed." Peter laughed.

"Yeah, yeah." you say, grumbling playfully.

"You hear that? Someone write that down." said Rocket, "We're going to hold you to that."

"Don't push it." you say, eyeing the raccoon.

"What? Your stubborn ass only tried to escape like a hundred times," Kraglin joked.

"And that's my cue to get to work," you say, setting your glass on the counter with the intent to run away from this conversation. However, you were stopped by Yondu grabbing your sleeve with an "Ah, Ah" and Gamora shoving a bowl of Yarrow Root across the table with the command to "Eat something first. You don't want to set yourself back and get sick again."

You sighed but didn't argue, knowing it was better to comply and realizing you were a little hungry anyway. You took a root from the bowl and bit into it to satisfy your friends.

That's when Peter speaks up and tells you that the doctor said you needed to take it easy for at least a day or two.

You narrowed your eyes. "When?"

"When she was here."

"When was that?" You take another bite of the root.

"Couple days ago."

You swallow. "Well then I'm considering that as time served." you say, deciding you'd take your breakfast to go.

Drax blocked your path.

"Um, can I get through?"

"No. Quill said this might happen. I'm stopping you from escaping. Finish your breakfast."

You shoot a glare at Peter before giving a hopeful look to Rocket. "You can talk some sense into them, right?"

Rocket shrugged. "Not my problem." before collecting Groot and leaving the kitchen with Mantis, who mouthed the word "Sorry" to you as they left.

You sighed, knowing there sure as hell wasn't any reasoning with the other five. "Really? This is what we're gonna do?"

"Yep." Peter grinned. Yondu and Kraglin simply shrugged behind their coffee.

Once you relented and sat down Gamora stood and stated that it wouldn't kill you to rest after being sick before leaving with Drax, who had apparently decided his job as security guard was now over. He said he was glad you were feeling better before following Gamora to the door and saying to her, without consideration that you could still hear, something to the tune that he imagined you felt better... now that you weren't puking and soiling yourself.

You choked on your water.

The other three pretended to be utterly fixated with the table and walls of the kitchen and you covered your face with your hands and moaned, "Next time please let me die."

"Will ya settle for us forgettin' it happened and never speakin' of it again?" Kraglin asked, fighting back a chuckle.

"Yes please." you squeaked from behind your hands.

Seeing an opportunity and taking it Peter added, "You still have to take the next couple days easy though."

"Anything!" you promise, lowering your head to the table.

"I think we got ourselves a deal." Yondu laughed, getting up to put his now empty coffee cup in the sink. "C'mon squirt, I'm sure we can find somethin' to take your mind off it."

And you did. You spent the next couple days just hanging around the ship with the guys and watching old movies Peter had collected over the years, telling funny stories, playing cards, and actually keeping your promise to let your body rest. Before long the whole ordeal was all but forgotten, but you were still always grateful for your family.

You knew no matter what, they had your back.

209 notes · View notes

waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

Lovestruck and Lipstick Stained

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

synopsis: you and Tom don’t feel entirely out of characters after playing lovers in the MCU

thank you to @snowrosestonight for the idea!

Masterlist

“Well hey there Spiderman.”

You walked up to Tom at one of the many photoshoots of the press tour with a cheeky smile. He was dressed in his suit, a sight you had grown to love very dearly. Your time as Gwen Stacy in the MCU had been incredibly memorable, all thanks to Tom.

“Hey yourself.” Tom folded his arms and clocked your outfit, a white t shirt with Spider-Man’s mask in the shape of a heart and skin tight jeans. “Nice jeans. I think I can see the spare change in your pocket.”

You looked down at your jeans and pointed your foot, flexing the cherry red heels they’d put you in and laughed.

“I’m sure they’re no tighter than the suit. And at least I can go to the bathroom without a team to help me.” You teased him as you poked out your tongue.

“Don’t disrespect the suit.” Tom pretended to be insulted. “I recall saving your life a few times in it.”

“I mean no disrespect. Honestly, I never get tired of seeing you in that suit. It’s like a rush of endorphins every time.” You chuckled as you ran your fingertips down his arm. Tom couldn’t feel it through his many layers of material, but the act alone sent shivers down his spine.

“That’s how I felt when I saw that T-Shirt. Seriously, did they mold that to your body?” He teased as he eyed your ridiculously tight shirt. It was a classic look MJ had worn in the comics, and the wardrobe department wanted to pay homage to it. You had felt a little self conscious with the form fitting the ensemble was, but Toms comments had taken the edge off.

“A lady never reveals her secrets.” You shrugged playfully.

“Well you look amazing, darling. You should wear this more often.” Tom complimented as his eyes took their time going down your body. You stepped closer to him and fixed some stray hairs of his that had fallen out of place.

“You know, I just might.” You smiled as you touched up his hair. A content smile rested on Toms lips as comfortable silence settled between you.

“Are you two ready to go?” A set assistant came up to you, taking your attention away from each other.

“I think we are.” You answered for Tom and yourself.

“Let’s get started.”

You were lead onto set and given a mark to stand on. The flash of the camera wasn’t something you were used to yet, but having Tom directly at your side calmed your nerves.

You popped one of your legs up and gave the camera a sultry smile as you clung to Tom. There was a wind machine blowing your hair back as you posed, only adding to the magic. You switched up your face and position but never took your hands off Tom, and he did the same.

“Tom, can you put your hand in Y/n’s back pocket?” One of the photographers asked between shots.

“Is that okay with you?” Tom asked quietly, so only you could hear as he looked at you for permission.

“I prefer it.” You told him as you gave his face a once over. Tom smirked and held your gaze as he slid his hand into your back pocket, letting the cameras capture it. You winked at him before turning your attention back to the photographer, posing for a few more minutes before you took a break.

“Everyone take five. Great work guys.” The photographer smiled at the two of you before walking off set. You slowly untangled yourself from Tom, chuckling shyly as he slid his hand out of your pocket.

“That wasn’t too hard.” You joked as you walked towards your chairs on the set. Four women immediately came over to touch up your hair and makeup as you and Tom spoke.

“Hard? Looking pretty is my day job.” Tom scoffed and pretended to flip hair over his shoulder.

“And looking like I’m in love with you is mine.” You tweaked an eyebrows as someone fixed your hair.

“You do it so well.” Tom boasted. “Best I’ve ever seen, really.”

“Well, you know. I get lots of practice.” You shrugged casually. “And when looking at such a pretty face, it’s not that hard to look in love.” You teased him as you squished his cheeks. Tom laughed and pushed you off, smiling in gratitude at the hair and makeup people as they left.

“I, uh, I got pretty familiar with your back pocket today.” Tom said, keeping his yes down as he took a step towards you.

“Yeah.” You looked away as you felt your cheeks flush. “Not many get to say they’ve had that experience.”

“I better thank my lucky stars then, huh?” Tom folded his arms, giving you a cocky smile. You pursed your lips and rolled your eyes at him, not wanting him to get the upper hand.

“Yeah.” You spike softly, your breath fanning his face. “You better.”

With his chest touching yours now, Tom opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the set assistant.

“Are you guys ready to continue?” He asked, not realizing what he was interrupting. You and Tom shared own last look, heavy with disappointment, as you stepped away from each other and nodded.

“You got the lipstick, right?” He asked you. You looked at Tom in confusion, only to find him a blushing mess.

“Lipstick?” You asked.

“You’re gonna cover Tom’s face in lipstick stains for the second half of the photo shoot.” The assistant informed you, and you immediately understood the blush. Your cheeks flames up in a crimson of their own as you realized you’d have to kiss your best friend again after so many months without it.

“I got it.” Tom bashfully held up tube of red lipstick, avoiding eye contact with you. You stared at the tube, your mind drifting back to the long days on set where you and Tom, or Peter and Gwen, would kiss for hours until you got the perfect take.

“Awesome. Do you need any help Y/n?” The assistant asked you, snapping you out of your daze. You blinked a few times as you came back to reality and shook your head.

“I think I can manage.” You squeaked.

“Great. See you guys in a few.”

The assistant left you alone to get ready, a nervous flutter going through you as he left.

“Did you know about this?” You eyed Tom skeptically as you took the tube of lipstick from him.

“Oh, darling.” Tom snorted. “It was my idea.”

Your jaw dropped as he shrugged smugly and gave him a playful shove.

“You don’t quit, do you?” You clicked your tongue as you opened the lipstick, begging to apply it in the mirror as you held eye contact with him.

“No I do not.” He said proudly as he took a seat in his chair. “You said my face was pretty, right? Come make it even prettier.”

Tom beckoned you over with his fingers, making you gulp as you finished putting on your lipstick.

“Okay.” You waltzed over you him, dragging your finger along the side of your mouth to clean up the line. You put a knee between Toms legs and propped yourself up, leaning over him as you leaned your hands on each of his armrests.

“I think I’ll put one here.” You spoke softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Here.” Corner of the mouth.

“Both cheeks.” You narrated in a hushed tone as you pressed a kiss to either sides of his face. You could feel how hot his skin was under your lips, and it made you smile.

“This is already my favorite photo shoot.” Tom chuckled as you reapplied your lipstick and placed kisses along his hairline.

“Me too.” You mumbled before covering his neck and jawline in the red lipstick stains. After his neck was decently covered, you leaned back to admire your work. Tom looked at you with heavy eyelids, swimming in bliss as he drummed his fingers on your hips.

“One more.” You decided. “To top it off.”

You leaned in and placed a searing kiss to his lips, leaving a bright red mark in your wake.

“Good call.” Tom gave you a dopey smile one you pulled away.

“Come on.” You got up and took his hand. “Let’s go get our picture taken.”

“Wait, look.” You stopped walking to your hotel on your way back from the photoshoot when a certain building caught your eye. Tom stopped with you, as your arm had been linked through his.

“What are we looking at? A tattoo shop?” He looked at you curiously.

“Yeah. I was thinking of getting one to commemorate my time as Gwen Stacy.” You admitted as you shyly scratched behind your ear.

“What did you want to get?”

“Nothing crazy or anything.” You shrugged. “I just want something small to represent my role.”

“Do you have any ideas?” Tom asked as you walked inside the shop.

“About a million.” You chuckled. “That’s my problem. I can’t decide.”

“Well what’s your favorite scene?” He asked you as he browsed the artwork on the walls of the shop.

“I like when Peter sets up a picnic on the giant web. It’s my favorite scene visually and I, uh, I liked shooting it.” You looked at him timidly through your lashes. It was a great day on set, getting to cuddle into Toms side for eight hours straight. It held fond memories for the both of you.

“So there you go.” Tom half smiled. “Get a web.”

“You think I should?” You wanted his approval before you went through with anything.

“Yeah. You know how I know it’s the right move?” He raises his eyebrows.

“How?”

“That’s my favorite scene too.” He winked at you and pulled you towards the reception desk.

“Then I’ll do it.” You decided. “Under one condition, though.”

“What’s that?”

“I want you to do it.” You told him.

“Darling, I don’t know the first thing about tattoos.” He warned you.

“I don’t care.” You shook your head. “You were my partner in this and if it’s gonna be on my body forever, I want you to do it. It has to be you.”

“I would be honored, love.” Tom smiled softly. “Just remember how much you love me as your partner when it turns out horrible.”

“That will just add to the charm.” You shrugged it off, feeling confident in your decision.

“Are you sure they’ll let me do it on you?” He wondered as the receptionist came to the desk.

“We’re celebrities. They’ll let us do anything.” You laughed before explaining what you wanted done. Within thirty minutes, you were in a chair with Tom at your side. He was armed with a tattoo gun, bouncing his leg nervously as someone else loaded it with ink.

“I need both hands to do this, so you’ll have to squeeze my knee instead if it hurts.” Tom said sympathetically, wishing he could hold your hand to ease your pain.

“Okay. Try to be gentle.” You braced yourself, already squeezing his knee out of fear.

“Right. I’ll just use the gentle setting on the gun.” Tom replied sarcastically, your laughter replacing your fear.

“Just shut up and do me.” You covered your eyes with your hands and turned away.

“Oh? Someones feeling romantic.” Tom poked fun at your accidental innuendo.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You whined.

“Sure you didn’t, darling. Are you okay to start?” He asked.

“Yeah. Just do it.” You gulped and squeezes your eyes shut as Tom began to freehand a web. There was an actual tattoo artist beside him, instructing him on what to do as he worked. The pain wasn’t as bad as you thought it was, but it didn’t feel great either. You squeezed his knee for an hour straight until you heard the relieving words.

“All done.” Tom said proudly as the buzzing from the gun stopped.

“Is my arm still there?” You asked, still facing away.

“It’s still there, love.” Tom chuckled as he wiped it down. “Do you wanna see it?”

“Yeah.” You beamed as Tom helped you sit up. You excitedly held out your arm. You looked at your tattoo and felt the air get knocked out of your lungs.

“Tom.” You mumbled as you stared at the tattoo.

“Do you like it?” He asked hopefully, staring at your face to read your reaction.

“It’s horrible.” You stared as you gaped at the misshapen web Tom had permanently put on your body. Toms heart stopped when he discovered that you didn’t like it.

“Darling, I’m sorry.” He apologized sincerely. “I told you I wasn’t-“

“I love you.” You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. “And I love it. It’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Really?” He gasped.

“Thank you so much. It’s perfect.” You threw your other arm around him and hugged him tightly as tears of joy streamed down your face.

“I’m glad I could help.” He smiled as he rubbed your back. “I’m definitely going to need a picture of my work.”

“Go ahead. The world deserves to see this masterpiece.” You beamed as Tom took out his phone. He went live on Instagram and held his phone up to his face.

“Guys, Y/n made a really bad decision and let me tattoo her. Wait, how do I flip the camera?” He looked at you for help as you laughed.

“Like this, sweetness.” You tapped his screen twice and held out your arm.

“Okay. Look at this. This is pretty good for my first time.” Tom praised himself as he took your arm and gently twisted it to show off the whole thing.

“I’m in love with it. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” You smiled gratefully as Tom panned the camera up to your face.

“The smile on your face right now is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Look at this girl. How cute is she?” Tom gushed as he squished your cheeks with his free hand.

“I’m just so happy. Look at my tattoo!” You happily held your arm out, absolutely in love with what he had done.

“It’s pretty shit.” Tom laughed at his crooked lines.

“Stop it!” You scolded him. “This is my favorite thing in the entire world right now. And forever.”

“I’m glad you like it. Just like how you guys are gonna like our movie.” He managed to turn the camera around to wink.

“You’re gonna love it. I love it and I’ve never seen it.” You came into view as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You heard the girl. Go see our movie.” Tom commanded as he wrapped his free arm around your waist to hold you close.

“Out next week!” You chirped before he shut the camera off. You let a professional wrap the tattoo before you paid and left the shop. Tom held your hand as you walked down the street, his way of making up for not being able to hold it while you got the tattoo.

“Hey, speaking of the movie, we have the premier in a week and I haven’t picked an outfit.” Tom realized as you neared your hotel.

“Really? I picked my dress the day I was cast.” You joked, tugging Tom into the lobby.

“I fully believe you.” He laughed. “What are you wearing?”

“I have a picture. Here.” You handed him your phone as you got into an elevator. Tom looked at the picture of you in a floor length, off the shoulder, royal blue ball gown that you had taken in a fitting room. His jaw immediately dropped at the sight of you as his heart picked up speed.

“You look incredible. Can you send this to me?” He asked sweetly as he looked up from the phone.

“Sure, but it’s not even the whole look.” You laughed shyly as he gawked at you. “I’m gonna have hair, makeup, and heels on the day of the premier. Plus jewelry.”

“You’re forgetting the most important part.” He clicked his tongue.

“What’s that?”

“Me as your arm candy.” Tom winked at you and handed your phone back.

“How could I forget you? My partner.” You took his hand and squeezed it ostentatiously.

“You keep calling me that, and I kind of love it. I think of you as my partner too.” He said shyly as he played with your fingers.

“Then we should match at the premier. We can show everyone our partnership.” You said as the idea came to you.

“You’re wearing blue…”

“So you wear red.” You finished his sentence. “You’ve always looked good in red.”

“Done.” Tom decoded. “I’ll tell my stylist tomorrow.”

“Awesome.” You smiled as you got to your floor.

“Hey, darling?” Tom asked as you stepped off the elevator.

“Yes?” You stopped in the hallway so you could give him your full attention.

“Would you be my date to the premier?” He asked as his lips curved into a smile. You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded before you could form words.

“I would love too.” You told him. His face lit up like a Christmas tree as he rushed at you, picking you up and spinning you around as he hugged you tightly.

“Yes!” He cheered. “Everyones gonna be jealous of me.”

“Alright, alright.” You laughed as he set you down. “Save that energy for the premier.”

“Trust me darling, I will.” Tom grinned as he stood outside his hotel room, directly across from yours.

“Goodnight, idiot.” You rolled your eyes at him as you stood in your doorway.

“Goodnight Princess.” He blew you a kiss, making you groan. You went inside and shut your door, but Tom stayed out for a moment, looking at your door wistfully before going on himself.

“Are you all done?” You asked as you walked into Toms room while putting in your earring. It was the day of the premier and you had gotten ready in separate rooms like a bride and groom.

“Yeah I’m all…oh my God.” His sentence quickly changed course when he saw you. His jaw was slack as he gawkers at you, taking his time in taking you in.

“Do you like it?” A pink tint covered your face when you saw how star struck he was, making you look down shyly.

“What! What?!” Tom was still in awe as he looked you over, unable to believe how good you looked.

“Stop it. You look incredible.” You complimented him, and he did.

“You look so good!” He exclaimed. “Darling, you take my breath away.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself. Red is definitely your color.” You praised as he twirled you under his arm. His deep red suit perfectly complimented his skin tone and made him look extravagant, especially with the glasses he had opted for. Tom rested his hands on your shoulders and looked at you dress with a proud smile.

“I can’t get over you.” He shook his head in disbelief. “The color blue was made just for you. You look ravishing, love. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled as you pulled him into a hug. Neither of you wanted to admit it, but you both knew this was the last time you’d be together in this way. After tonight, the movie would be out and you’d no longer be on the press tour together. Because of this unspoken feat, the hug lingered a little longer than usually.

“You ready?” Tom asked as he rested his chin on your head.

“Ready.”

You walked out onto the red carpet together, hand in hand as the crowd roared. Tom kept one hand on your back as you stopped to pose for the cameras.

“We look like a couple.” He leaned down to say into your ear.

“A couple of besties.” You said without looking at him as you parted his chest. He tightened his grip on your waist as he continued smiling at the cameras.

“I hate you so much for saying that.” He laughed as he held you closer.

“Aw. But I love you.” You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. The press cheered for you as you made your way down the carpet.

“Let’s do something different poses.” Tom suggested as you fixed your dress.

“Okay. Prom pose has to be first.” You said eagerly as you turned around. Tom wrapped his arms around you from behind and posed like you were going to prom.

“That was so stupid.” He shook his head with laughter as he let go of you.

“Here. Gaze lovingly into my eyes.” You instructed as you turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Why?” His eyebrows knit together in confusion, but he complied.

“So the fans can say “look at the way they look at each other” and swoon.” You laughed as you tugged on the lapel of his jacket. Tom rolled his eyes before placing his other hand on the small of your back and gazing, as you put it, lovingly into your eyes. You put your hand on his cheek to keep his face in place and let the paparazzi have a field day.

You walked a few places down the red carpet before getting into a new pose, this time wrapping your arms around his neck as he kept his arms around your waist.

“We look like the Twilight poster.” You whispered in his ear before smoldering at the press.

“Which one?” Tom chuckled as he looked at you with all the adoration in the world

“All of them.” You told him as you kept your perfectly manicured hand over her heart.

“I want to do the Will Smith pose.” Tom decided, taking a step away from you and opening his arms like he was presenting you. You covered you mouth as you laughed loudly, feeling a warm sense of joy as Tom held his arms out to behold you. You looked at him fondly and blew him a kiss.

“I feel like artwork.” You shouted over the roar of the press.

“You look like it too.” Tom shouted back, holding his hand out for you to take. You happily accepted his hand, letting him twirl you before you spun into his chest. Both laughing happily and only seeing each other, the roar of the crowd disappeared. All you could hear was Tom’s laughter, coming deep from his tummy.

“Stop it.” You shyly hid your face in his neck as he held you tightly. Tom took your chin between his fingers and beamed at you, grinning like a child before resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re my best friend.” He said between his laughter, keeping his eyes shut to block out the rest of the world.

“And you’re mine.” You reached up and gripped the hair at the nape of his neck, looking longingly at him even with his eyes shut.

“Let’s go.” He slipped his hand into yours and pulled you along. “We have more red carpet to dazzle.”

“It’s over.” Tom let out a breath as he plopped on his bed after the premier. “I can’t believe it over.”

You plopped down next to him and both of you stared at the ceiling in silence. You were exhausted from all the screaming fans, interviews and hours on your feet, but you had never been happier. You reached out and took Toms hand which was lying beside yours and intertwined your fingers with his.

“Honestly Tom, this has been a dream with you. You made my experience better than I ever could’ve imagined. I can’t thank you enough.” You told him as you looked to your side to see him. He turned his head to look at you and gave your hand a squeeze.

“You can thank me by keeping me around.” He mumbled. “Getting to know you has been my favorite part of this whole thing, honest to God. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.”

“I’m sad it’s all coming to an end. I’m gonna miss being with you every day. Eating all our meals together and all that. I loved that.” You spoke softly as you looked down at your hands, trying to hold in tears that came out of nowhere.

“It doesn’t have to end. We can still see each other.” Tom assured you as he propped himself up on his elbow.

“Yeah, but it won’t be the same. You’ll go off and film your next movie and hang out with your newest costar and forget all about me.” You looked up at him sadly. “And yeah, we’ll see each other but it will only be every once in a while. We literally lived together during filming and now I’ll see you every few months. If I’m lucky.”

“Then let’s keep living together.” Tom said as if the idea had been brewing in the back of his mind for a while.

“What?” You lifted your neck a little to get a better look at him.

“I’m serious. Let’s move in together. Who says this ever has to end?” His eyes were hopeful skies with anxious clouds as he waited for your answer. You stared at him a moment as you pondered it, but deep down you knew the answer straight away.

“I don’t want it to.” You mumbled. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You never will.” Tom smiled softly as he brushed a stray hair off of your nose.

“Good.” You stated firmly. “Then let’s move in together to make sure of it.”

“Alright.” He left out a happy sigh and fell on his back. “We can start looking for a flat tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You covered your grin and turned away, not wanting him to see how happy it made you that he felt the same connection you did.

“All the fans are saying we look like a couple.” Tom said suddenly, handing you his phone that was open to twitter. The ship name your fans had coined for you and Tom was number one on trending, Tom was number two, and you were number three. Taking his phone in your hands, you scrolled through a few of the many rows of tweets saying you and Tom made, would make, or were a perfect couple. You couldn’t help but smiling seeing that millions of people wanted you to date your best friend.

“Oh my goodness.” You chuckled as you handed his phone back. “That’s another weird thing. I’m so used to kissing you and acting like I’m your girlfriend from filming. I have to stop myself from being all over you when I see you. I guess I’m still not fully out of character.”

“I have a pretty simple solution for that.” Tom quipped, clicking his phone off and turned on his side to look at you.

“Tell me.” You smirked as you rolled on your side as well.

“You wouldn’t have to stop yourself from being all over me if you…” Tom trailed off and squeezed his eyes shut like he lost his nerve.

“If I what?” You wondered, putting your hand over his to reassure him.

“If you were my girlfriend.” He spoke timidly. “Who says our love has to be limited to the screen?”

“Are you asking me out, Holland?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, darling, I’m sorry if I misread the moment.” His face fell when he thought you didn’t feel the same. “ I thought we-“

You didn’t let him finish, leaning forward and kissing him instead. A hesitant hand molded against your hip as he kissed you back, smiling against your lips until you pulled away.

“You thought right.” You laughed breathlessly. “Whether we’re in front of a camera or not, I want to be your girlfriend.”

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#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfic #tom holland friends to lovers #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #marvel #spiderman

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snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales · 3 years

Text

Blue Moon - Part 4

A/N: See masterlist for prompts used. (And the list of amazing people who have helped me with this.) I felt it necessary to say, remember, these are all following along with the episodes from 03x04 on till the end of 3A. Without *directly* inserting the reader into the plot line, but more an off screen role. (Aside from the beginning, where, obviously, Derek fought the Alpha’s while Cora watched from the sidelines.) And because of that, it’s more angst than I usually write. It was a very angsty season. And the prompts have inherent angst, but lots of fluff, and sass, so once we get out of the murkiness that is Jennifer Blake (can you tell I don’t like her? - which, kudos to the actress, who I think is beautiful and brilliant, for making me hate her so much. 😆) we can move on to that happy, feel good, Sourwolf love we all enjoy so much. But until then, I guess this counts as a slow burn of sorts?

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Warnings: See Masterlist

Word count: 2,633

Xxx

The next day was lonely. Stiles would text you every now and then, but other than that it was a quiet day. No word about Derek from anyone other than Peter and Cora going to get his body and it not being there. And neither was Ennis’, who Derek had pulled down with him. You decided not to dwell on the many possible things that could mean.

You drove in silence to all the places Stiles had mentioned the night before and spoke meekly at each one. You felt almost like you were floating through the day, going through the motions, but your mind was a million miles away.

The meet ended up getting canceled due to weather, and they were all going to be stuck staying at some crappy motel that Stiles insisted was haunted through multiple texts with an excessive amount of emojis. You couldn’t get ahold of anyone else, which was kinda odd, but also not totally abnormal.

To top it all off, you needed something you left at the loft, so you told the Sheriff - who had taken the night off and ordered a pizza to stay in with you this evening, after finding out Stiles wasn’t coming right back - you would be back in a flash, you just had to “run home real quick”, careful not to mention the loft, to which he just chuckled and said something along the lines of, “Just make sure you run the speed limit.”

Sighing as you pulled into the loft parking lot, you glanced through the windshield up at the top floor where it sat. It was so ominous looking, bathed in moonlight, it almost gave a faint glow. Resting your forehead on the steering wheel, you took some deep breaths, panic rising as flashes of your tango with an Alpha came back rapidly. But instead of feeling like a badass, it made you hyperventilate. There was this gnawing feeling that it had been a one time thing, and that should you ever encounter them again you would be in so much trouble.

Taking one last deep breath to steady your nerves, you stopped mid inhale, slightly cocking your head to the side, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

Derek.

You had caught Derek’s scent. Well, it’s his loft, you rationalized to yourself. But no. This was fresh. Less than a few hours old. Glancing back up at the loft one last time, you grabbed the handle and yanked your door open, mustering the courage you could find to climb up the winding staircase and see for yourself.

Taking them two at a time, you felt your courage build with each step and your hope that Derek was there along with it. As you stood in front of the loft door, your outstretched hand just shy of the handle and trembling, you took a tentative breath and knew Derek had been here very recently. That was the final push you needed to firmly grip the handle of the loft door, preparing to give it a hefty pull, but something made you stop short.

A whisper.

Just on the other side of the door, a woman's voice, then Derek’s. Surely your mind was playing tricks on you; you didn’t smell anyone else. You did pick up on something vaguely familiar, but couldn’t place it. The smell reminded you of school, and the crime scenes of the sacrifices you had been at, and lately, the loft. Unable to place the smell, you slowly slid the door open, stopping after only a few inches to peek in.

What you saw made your heart speed up, as there Derek sat on the edge of his bed, covered in scratches and blood, but alive. He was alive.

Your feet that had been glued to the floor suddenly felt like they were floating, the distance between him and you too much. You couldn’t contain the smile that brought to your lips, but it soon melted when another figure stepped into view in front of him. On instinct you had started to move forward, barely making it over the threshold before the other silhouette made you pull up short.

Jennifer.

You covered your mouth to hold in whatever was about to come out, anger, disgust, pain, you didn’t know, they were all swirling in your gut at the sight. You fell to your knees, bracing yourself on the doorframe to try and stay just out of sight.

No, Derek hadn’t caught your scent yet, which is what you found the most strange, and worrisome, and only reinforced that she was doing something to his mind.

You finally placed the smell as belonging to Miss Blake, but it was different from her scent she had all the other times you had seen her, and that somehow made it worse. It didn’t smell like emotions or anything, it smelled like an entirely different being. Barely even human.

This last thought made you knit your eyebrows in determination, about to rise to your feet, charge in there, and show the she devil a thing or two, but you only made it to one knee, still bent on the floor, before you froze, eyes wide, eyebrows practically in your hairline. What you saw could never be unseen. Like two dogs in heat, they were on one another as if space between them was too painful. Your grip on the door frame and the loft door handle almost broke them under the pressure.

You felt sick. Physically sick to your stomach. Whether from the feeling of betrayal, knowing you were right that something was weird about this whole thing, the fact that they had been getting it on in front of you, or all of the above, you weren’t quite sure.

Sliding the door shut calmly, you tried to keep it together as you softly, but quickly, made it back down the stairs, into your car, and back to the Stilinski driveway, putting your car in park and shutting off the engine before you let yourself feel anything.

You wanted to kick and scream and sob your eyes out because you knew she had been doing something to him, you knew something was wrong, but you didn’t go with your gut, and now here you were. In your car, alone. In front of the Stilinski house. Silent tears racing down your face at the feeling of betrayal, both from seeing them together tonight and at yourself for not doing something sooner.

A tap on your window made you jump, and you saw the Sheriff trying to peek in. Opening your door, you hopped out, swiping rapidly at your tears, and plastering a smile on your face. “Sorry that took so long.”

He looked at you skeptically, waving it off. “Nah. The pizza just got here. You’re right on time.”

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he ushered you into the house, quietly closing the front door behind the both of you. He stayed silent until you were both in the living room. He had the remote in his hand about to press play on the movie, but it dipped once in hesitation before he sighed, and it fell along with his hand to the armrest beside him. Scrubbing his face for a moment with his free hand, he finally looked up at you. Opening his mouth once before snapping it shut, staring blankly in front of him as if the space held the right thing to say, he scratched his forehead with the remote, his face making the face you had come to learn and love earlier on from Stiles. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

You stopped trying to grab a slice of pizza from the box, clearing your throat and wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans before nodding gently, staring at the floor. “Yeah.” You looked up and met his gaze, seeing concern painting his features. “Yeah, I’m okay, Mr. Stilinski. Just boy trouble. Thanks for asking.” You smiled as best you could, and he seemed to do the same.

“Well, we’ve known each other forever, sweetheart, and I want you to know that you can tell me anything.”

The smile on your face felt a little more genuine. “I know. Thank you.”

“No matter how uncomfortable it makes me,” he continued as if you hadn’t said anything. The words sounded pained and forced, his brows knit like he was eating a lemon, and you finally let out the full smile that had been trying break through, even laughing.

His lips twitched up gently. “There she is.”

“I will. Thank you. But for both of our sakes-” you leaned in, placing a hand on his forearm- “I’ll probably just tell Stiles.”

“Oh, thank God.” He let out on a huff of air, making you laugh again. “Now. Let’s watch this movie.” He hit play, and you settled into the couch, letting the plot unfolding on the screen take you away, if only for a little while.

Xxx

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, waking you up with a start.

The DVD menu played softly on a loop, the movie long over, and to your right the Sheriff was snoring with his head on the back of the couch.

You tossed the blanket you had been using on top of him before leaving the room and checked your phone, only to see it was Stiles.

“Stiles?” You spoke quietly into the receiver, not wanting to wake the Sheriff.

“Y/N? Why are you whispering?” Stiles sounded kind of stressed, just a little bit off.

“Your dad took off work tonight and we had a pizza - yes, I let him have pizza, don’t you dare jump on my case and go on a tirade about how he needs a salad, let the man live, Stiles - and we watched a movie.”

“I was wondering why that soundtrack was playing on a loop in the background. He used a DVD, didn’t he? I taught him how to use streaming-”

“Stiles!” You cut off his tangent with a chuckle. “Why are you calling me so late. Or, is it early?” You checked your watch to find it was early morning, still dark outside.

“Well, let’s just say tonight has been interesting, we are all alive, which is good, but sleeping on the bus-”

“The bus?”

“The bus. Our rooms weren’t safe, and I don’t mean because of roaches or mysterious stains, Y/N.” You grinned. “Although there was this one smell in my room that was rather suspect….”

Smell. Scent. Shit.

Screwing your eyes shut, palm on your forehead, you spoke quickly, “Stiles, don’t be angry with me.” Peeking your head into the other room to see the Sheriff still soundly asleep, you stepped onto the back porch and closed the door behind you, ignoring Stiles’ incessant questions as you did.

“Stiles! Hush! I had to leave the room so your dad didn’t hear!”

“Oh,” was all he said. You heard the squeak of the bus as he slumped back against it, obviously doing the same as you and trying to get a bit of privacy.

Taking a deep breath, you told him everything you saw at the loft.

The only thing he did was suck in a sharp breath, but was otherwise silent. Finally he said, “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Yeah, thanks, whatever.” You cleared your throat, looking down at your feet before lifting your gaze to stare vacantly across the yard. “My main concern was that scent. It didn’t smell human, but not entirely not human.”

“Well, that’s terrifying,” Stiles said blandly, making your lips twitch up just slightly. You heard another voice on the other end, Scott, and Stiles mumbled something about speakerphone before the phone was jostled around a bit. You could hear a mumbled, “Well, no, you don’t need speakerphone because you’re a freak of nature, Scott, but I, a mere mortal, need the aid.” You chuckled and could hear Scott let out a groan and soft chuckle himself.

“Y/N?” Finally Scott’s voice came through clearly.

“Yeah?”

“First of all, thank you. For everything.” His voice sounded distant, and you sure as hell were going to interrogate them when they got back as to what the hell happened that night at the motel, but for now you just nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see you and rolled your eyes.

“You’re welcome, Scott. The feeling’s mutual. Thanks for making it so easy.”

Stiles humphed. “I feel like that last part was directed at me.”

“But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A mumbled, “Thanks, I guess,” but you could hear his smile.

“Y/N, the scent. The one you smelled at Derek’s loft.” Scott was back to business. “I think I smelled it here tonight.”

“Really? How is that-” You were cut off by Scott who was obviously talking to Stiles.

“Right before we decided to stay in the bus, when Lydia saw something in the fire, after the explosion-”

"Okay, what the hell happened to you guys?!" you asked loudly, cutting them off. Grimacing, you quickly used your hearing to pick up on the Sheriff's continued snores, let out a sigh of relief, and lowered your voice. "I feel so left out."

“No, I’m glad you weren’t here,” Scott said. “Long story short, something went after a specific group of our friends, and when it finally showed its face,” you heard Lydia cut in from somewhere behind, “I’d barely call that a face,” and you didn’t know whether to laugh or be afraid.

Scott continued pointedly, “When it showed its face, I got a whiff of something I can only describe how you described the smell at the loft. Not human. But also not… not…. human.”

A smacking sound could be heard, and you realized Stiles was patting Scott on the back while saying, “It’s okay, bud. It’s been a long day.”

“One question.” You took a deep breath, trying to decide on the winner of thousands that swam around your brain right now. “Why is Lydia there?”

“She came with Allison.”

“Why was Allison there, Stiles?”

“Uh-uh. You said one question.”

“This is still technically the same question since they apparently came together.”

“….Touché,” Stiles finally came back with, before sighing. “Look, I’ll tell you everything when we get back, okay? It’s been a hell of a day and I just want to sleep,” he continued in a mumble, “if I can ever sleep again after seeing what I’ve seen.” A brief pause. “You werewolves need to come with a disclaimer. ‘May cause sleep disturbances’.”

You laughed loudly. “Okay, okay. I know I’m not going to get anywhere with you guys this tired. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” came a chorus of voices, and you felt relief wash over you at the sound of each one, knowing they were safe and sound.

“Goodbye, Y/N.” Stiles’ voice came through by itself after some fumbling, probably taking you off speakerphone.

“Goodbye, Stiles. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay on the phone until you fall asleep? I mean, I am part of the reason, after all. I do come with a disclaimer.”

“I would absolutely love that, but I need to save my battery and I am in a bus surrounded by werewolves, whatever Lydia is, and a hunter. I think my security system is pretty good for tonight.”

You chuckled. “Okay then. Goodnight, Stiles.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Oh!”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being there with my dad.”

“No problem, Stiles. You know he’s like family to me. He was there for me when I came back from the loft, said I could talk about it if I needed.”

“He offered to listen while you talked?!” He was almost yelling.

You laughed again. “Goodnight, Stiles.”

He chuckled. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Xxx

Tags: @mayahart02, @palaiasaurus64, @shydinosaurcandy, @lucyqueenofthestars, @c-breanne1999, @l4life, @ethereallysimple, @teenwolffan-with-nolife, @bellabadacadabra, @lilostif16, @wandas-love, @emily500, @babygirl-angel-love, @c-dizzle99 What’s This?

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mari-beau · 3 years

Text

GIVE ME A REASON: PART SIX - A Rogue One Fanfiction

This is a shorter installment, and maybe pointless… maybe I’m dragging this out too long… But also, who cares, I’m doing this for fun. I just love playing with them!

Read on AO3

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Title: Give Me A Reason: Part Six

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Jyn Erso POV, Cassian Andor

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn (mostly pre-ship?)

Spoilers: Rogue One; Episode IV A New Hope

Setting: Post-Rogue One AU (Cassian & Jyn live); Also during/post A New Hope

Warnings: Some coarse language. References to wounds. And… Cuddling?

Words: 1,720

Story Summary: Jyn’s entire universe has been turned on its head, so maybe she’s clinging a little too hard to the one thing she feels certain of (strangely enough) as she tries to figure out her place in the galaxy. And maybe she’s being a little overprotective of a wounded captain.

Also can be found on AO3.

The Death Star had come for them.

Again.

But Jyn couldn’t bring herself to care. It did seem a little strange to have been spared the last time only to probably be destroyed this time, barely a week later. But either way, it was the end to her life she now knew to be her fate, or whatever. It just felt right. It just was. Not the Death Star specifically, but,

Jyn Erso would die in Cassian Andor’s arms.

Whether it should’ve been on Scarif. Or it was here on Yavin 4. Or the next day. Or thousands of days in the future.

And there was a sort of peace in knowing that. One that allowed her to climb into his bed, slide her arms around him, and bury her face in his shoulder. He stirred and her heart skipped a beat. It was easier when he was unconscious, to consider how she felt about him, how she’d been attracted to men before, even had something akin to a relationship with one or two, but it had never felt like this.

“Jyn…?”

“Yes, it’s me. We’re on the base on Yavin 4. Safe. In your quarters.” It was easier to preempt any confusion or alarm Cassian experienced when he woke from his heavy, partially drugged, mostly just exhausted from his body’s healing, sleep.

“How long?” he asked, then realized there were static-laden voices broadcasting over the basewide intercom. “What’s going on?”

“You’ve been asleep for 12 hours,” Jyn said, moving closer and partially on top of him to prevent him from trying to get up in a rush and falling flat on his face. Also, she was admittedly afraid on some level, afraid to be alone and facing death. When he was near her, when they were physically entwined in some way, she felt like everything would be okay. Even if she died, if it was in Cassian’s arms, then everything would be okay. Irrational, yes. But that didn’t make it any less her truth.

“The Death Star is here,” she said, once she could tell he was awake enough to understand, not muddled by pain meds. “The Alliance is scrambling their forces to engage. They’re leaving the comms open, since you know…”

“We’re all dead if they fail.”

His arms wrapped around her and engulfed her in his warm embrace. Cassian Andor, a man who, she didn’t think she was wrong to guess, hadn’t received much at all in the way of affection in his life, somehow was so good at holding a person he made the pain of the universe go away, made the entire universe fade away except for his hands on her body, gentle and undemanding but also firm and reassuring, his breath hot on her neck, sending shivers down her spine, and his body beneath hers, so strong despite his injuries.

“Are you okay?” she asked, remembering the physical state of him.

“Mmm… Yes.” His hands tightened their grip on her side and shoulder, reflexively, a gentle squeeze as he murmured into her neck. “Feels good.”

He probably meant he felt fine, but oh, yes, it did feel good. Or maybe he was still quite medicated?

“My weight isn’t putting pressure on your injuries?” Jyn asked. “Maybe I should…”

“No.” Somehow he managed to pull her further into him, her breasts flattening against his chest, her hip practically fusing to his, her breath hitching momentarily and then joining the rhythm of his own breaths...in and out… in and out… in and out...

Cassian sighed, made a frustrated, growling sound.

“I need to use the ‘fresher,” he said, loosening his grip on her.

Jyn rolled off from him, swung her legs around to sit on the side of the cot and waited to see if Cassian could manage to stand. He slid to sit on the edge of the bed next to her and took a moment. She didn’t press him, though an instinct inside of her wanted to offer assistance, wanted to take care of him, wanted to ease the pain and struggle his recovery was.

He stood, again pausing for a moment, then walked slowly across the small room to his private refresher facilities. Apparently, it was one of very few benefits to his officer’s rank, for the small quarters were nothing more than a glorified closet. But she supposed it spared him from having to sleep in a large barracks with a bunch of others, not that it would’ve deterred Jyn in the least from crawling into his bed.

Part of her felt like she shouldn’t watch his laborious movements, out of respect, but she couldn’t look away. What if he needed her?

Force, what if he didn’t need her? Not like she needed him? Aw, fuck. She needed him.

She watched the muscles in his naked back twitch, stiff from inactivity and injury. But her eyes were inevitably drawn to the perfectly uniform lines of small circular marks running down his spine. She knew there was a matching sort of trail along his ribs. Injections of some sort of bacta cocktail meant to speed the fusing of the fractures in his vertebrae and ribs, injections straight into the bone. How painful would that have been if he’d been conscious, she couldn’t help but wonder, couldn’t help but want to wrap her smaller body around as much of Cassian as she could, run her hands gently over his scars, old and new, make sure his wounds were healing and his bruises fading, hear him sigh contentedly against her skin, hold him forever.

As he disappeared into the ‘fresher, Jyn realized she was hopeless.

Cassian Andor had taught her about hope. And had made her absolutely hopeless at the same time.

But why fret about it? What did it matter?

Jyn was used to dealing with life moment by moment, day by day. And she might not have many more moments, anyway.

The loud, static-laden voices crackling over the basewide intercom announced the launch of yet another squadron of fighters, then abruptly switched over to some ship’s communication officer announcing visual confirmation of the target. The Death Star.

Looming on the horizon like a moon, a harbinger of death, bringer of eternal night. Cold, austere, which made it somehow more terrifying, somehow worse than staring down an angry brute about to put a knife in you. It was just so inevitable, indomitable. Made her feel so small, insignificant, so alone.

“Do you mind if I turn this off?”

Jyn startled. How had she not noticed Cassian reappear in the small room? He pointed at the comm, which was broadcasting the prelims of a battle to determine all their fates.

She didn’t want to listen to it either.

“Please do,” she said, already feeling less… alone.

She watched Cassian lean over to switch the speaker off, wincing in sympathy with him as he straightened again, taking a deep breath that expanded his chest and shifted the muscles beneath his skin, mesmerizing her more than a little. His mostly naked body preoccupied far too many of her thoughts.

But what else had she been supposed to do? She’d woken up drenched in sweat that first night in his quarters, had to strip out of the heavy infirmary clothes, found Cassian tossing in his sleep, nearly feverish, removed the sweltering clothes from his body, as well. Little did she know, how enthralling she’d find his lean muscles, the shape of his body, the feel of his bare skin, his-

His hands cupped her face and Jyn looked up at Cassian Andor, his kriffing gorgeous dark eyes fixed on her. His fingers swept some stray hair from her forehead, tucked it behind her ear, returned to swipe gently over the nearly-healed scar above her eyebrow, in her hairline.

“Are you okay?” A knot formed in her throat. Cassian was a good man, despite every questionable thing he’d done and tortured himself over. Of course he would care about her wellbeing. It didn’t mean-

“Ow!”

“Your blaster wound still hurts?” His fingers feathered over her shoulder, not touching the freshly healed injury this time.

“It does when you jab your finger in it.” She grabbed his wrist and tugged his hand away, throwing him off balance so that he fell into her and she managed to catch him and ease him onto the bed, right where she wanted him.

A chuckle escaped him and he smiled, making something flutter inside of her. And then he was reaching for her, pulling her close.

His embrace was everything she’d never known she’d wanted. His hands stroked her back and he buried his face in her neck, nuzzling a sensitive spot just behind and below her ear.

She sighed, wrapping an arm around his middle and burying the fingers of her other hand in his messy, soft hair. She pressed gently as she massaged his scalp down to his nape, eliciting a hum of pleasure from him that vibrated against her bare skin and into her flesh.

If this was to be her last moment, Jyn held no regrets. It was a good moment.

“Jyn?” His voice had a lethargic but happy edge to it, thick and low and sleepy. She could sympathize.

“Yes?” She twisted her finger in a lock of hair curling about his neck.

“Please don’t let me sleep so long this time.” His whisper tickled her ear. “No more than 10 hours. Okay? Please?”

He wanted her to wake him up in 10 hours… Like there wasn’t a battle raging in space nearby… Like he didn’t believe they were quite probably going to die soon, incinerated by a weapon her own father helped design. Like he didn’t believe they were going to lose, after all. Somehow, he believed they would be there, together, ten hours from this moment.

Hope.

Such a man as Cassian… The most unexpected thing she’d discovered about him was his belief in hope. That he possessed any at all after all he had done, all he had seen. And then he’d given it to her.

And again, it warmed her, deep inside, that small seed of hope. She snuggled closer to the man, hoping for something she couldn’t even begin to conceive of. But yearned for it, with every fiber of her being.

#fic: Give Me A Reason #Rogue One #fanfiction #rebelcaptain #my fic #Cassian Andor #Jyn Erso #Cassian x Jyn

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nocompromise-noregrets · 3 years

Note

Ask game! 9 and 25 :)

YAY! (sorry for the delay, I'd just gone to bed when this came in XDDDDD )

9. who do you love most in this world? My missus and my cats. We've been through a fair bit together. :D Also my parents, for being brilliant about everything (my whole family for that, really, although too many of them are gone now). <33333

25. the story behind a scar of yours? Oh, this is always fun to tell. So I have two significant/noticeable scars, one through my left eyebrow, and the other on the left side of my forehead, right up by the hairline. The eyebrow scar comes from my tendency, when very young (I was probably about two at the time, as my mum was expecting my brother at the time), to run to the front door when my dad came home from work, to say hello. We had a glass panelled front door, single-glazed (it was the Seventies, nobody had figured out yet that it was probably a bad idea to put doors like that into new houses that were likely to contain small children), and on one particular evening I tripped and went flying...into the glass panel...face first. As you do. So my poor dad, on getting out of the car, is faced with his rather pregnant wife holding his screaming two-year-old daughter with a teatowel clutched to her profusely bleeding head. Because head wounds bleed like a bugger. So off to hospital we go, parents a wreck, me screaming, doctors do their thing, I am stitched up, there is a huge teddy bear in the waiting room (or somewhere, I just have dim memories of a giant bear), and once I'm stitched up I'm happy as Larry, running up and down the corridor etc etc. My parents, meanwhile, are still A Wreck. XD I definitely got over it quicker than they did. I had a few scars up my forehead for a long time but they've all faded except the eyebrow one, which is a little less visible now I get my eyebrows done, but it's still there. Looks like a cutlass, I always thought. :D The one up by my hairline, meanwhile, comes from an incident at the Donington Monsters of Rock festival in either 1996 or 1997 - I was there with friends from Somerset, who had brought some fairly potent cider, and at some point on the Friday night on the campsite, decided I needed to go and relieve myself. Everyone was climbing through a broken bit of fence to use the woodland beside the campsite for the purpose (it was a bit less civilised in those days :D ), which is what I did. However, on the way back through, thanks to the effects of the cider, I tripped on the fence and caught my head on a sharp bit. Completely unaware of this, I then couldn't find my friends and went wandering through the campsite for a while looking for them...not realising that I was bleeding profusely from the head, because head wounds, as already mentioned, bleed like a bugger. They found me eventually (they were frantic, because as far as they were concerned I'd gone off for a pee, and then disappeared, and then when they did find me I looked like an extra from a horror movie), cleaned me up and patched me up (thankfully one of them was a nurse) and I had quite the headache the next day, but it didn't stop me enjoying the festival. My t-shirt had a bit more character than it had when I started out, though XD (it was an ancient Queensrÿche Operation: Mindcrime one and already had 'gunshots' on the print, so the extra blood just sort of blended in if memory serves :D )

Oh man. That was fun. Thank you for asking! <3333333

Anyone else want to ask me about random stuff and possibly prompt a long and rambling reminiscence? :D

#ask game #go on #ask me stuff!

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some-kindofgnome · 4 years

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Kinktober #18: Cherry Garcia: Bucky Barnes

You’ve made an unfortunate habit of pilfering Bucky’s ice cream stash. Of course, it was only a matter of time before he caught you.

Characters: Bucky Barnes / f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), secret late-night kitchen sex, ice cream sharing, f l u f f

Notes: I’m trying this thing where I don’t post at midnight, like a swamp creature.

This is not proofread as thoroughly as it should be. I’m throwing this at the wall and running away. Today’s prompt was ‘In the Kitchen,’ so of course I had to make it cute.

*flails* i love picturing Bucky with a sweet tooth 🥺

Kinktober Masterlist

It’s three o’clock in the morning and you’re starving.

You’re not quite sure when this little habit of yours turned into such a thing. After all, originally it was a bit of a fluke. You were fresh off a mission with frayed nerves and exhausted muscles. It had been the middle of the night and you’d just wanted a little comfort food.

It wasn’t your fault that you’d found out about Bucky’s love of ice cream. It was something he’d never tried growing up. Milk, sugar and eggs were commodities far too valuable to be affordable in his youth. Let alone the even more precious ability to keep things cold.

Now, he keeps at least three flavours of Ben and Jerry’s in the freezer at all times. They’re always there, though, so you can’t imagine he samples them often. What, you’d thought, so many nights ago, could possibly be the harm in sampling a few bites?

Of course, a few bites at the end of a long mission soon blossomed into more. These days, you were sneaking down every night to grab a bowl. Sitting on the counter with your legs dangling over the edge and finishing it in the dark. Then crawling back upstairs to bed, quiet as a mouse.

Not quiet enough, as you were about to find out.

The compound kitchen is massive- like the kitchen in a restaurant, or a bakery. Double ovens on one wall, a massive eight-burner Viking, two fridges and an upright freezer. It has to store enough food to feed the entire team, after all. Snack hoards included.

But it still feels homey these days. There are beautiful windows above the sink that stream butterscotch sunlight in the morning. There’s a little breakfast nook tucked away to one side. And you have so many memories of this place. Baking pumpkin pies at Thanksgiving, making a mess of Steve’s birthday cake. Fighting over who’s going to clean up after Vision cooks dinner for all of you.

And sneaking into the freezer in the middle of the night for a taste of Bucky’s Cherry Garcia.

You take your usual post on the edge of the counter, flipping open the paper lid and digging your spoon into the frozen treat. You’re lifting the first sinful bite to your lips when-

“Ah-hah.”

Your blood goes cold. You know that voice.

“Bucky,” you squeak. Slowly, you set the ice cream down and nudge it away from you, but it’s too late. You’ve been caught Cherry Garcia-handed.

“Please,” he croons, holding up a palm with a smug smirk. He glides across the dark kitchen with all the grace of stalking cat. He’s pretty comfortable invading your personal space these days, much to your chagrin. As a result, he’s not shy about coming right up between your thighs, flesh and metal sliding up your bare skin.

Your face tilts forward out of habit, but he keeps his mouth hovering above yours, letting a soft puff of breath over your lips.

“Don’t let me stop you,” he chuckles. He brushes his nose against yours and pulls away, snagging the open ice cream from beside you.

“You gonna tell me how long this has been going on?” He asks. It’s obvious, as he stirs the ice cream with your abandoned spoon, that he finds this hilarious. You suppose you should be relieved. Then again, you can’t imagine Bucky getting seriously upset at you for pilfering his ice cream stash.

You don’t understand why you’re so embarrassed, then.

“Remember Rome?” You purse your lips. It was months ago. Bucky’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline.

“You little minx,” he accuses, dabbing the spoon into the rapidly softening Cherry Garcia. He takes a little spoonful and smirks, holding it up to your lips. You’re dying to know what he’s thinking right now, but you take the scoop, tasting Vermont-sweetened cherry and the bitter snap of a chocolate chunk.

“I shoulda known,” he chuckles, taking a bite for himself and putting the carton down. He braces his hands on your thighs again. “I don’t even like Cherry Garcia. But somebody took the seal off, didn’t they?”

He leans forward, and this time he doesn’t wait to close the gap between you. His tongue is cold and sweet, but his warm hands are shifting higher and higher on your bare thighs, brushing beneath the hem of your (his) oversized t-shirt.

“What’d I tell you about stealing my snacks?” He chuckle-growls as he draws back from your lips and glides his mouth along your jaw. His scruff brushes your cheek; in the dark, you can see the silhouette of his hair as it slips forward.

He laves his tongue over your pulse point, then kisses it sweetly. All the while he’s slipping a hand between your legs to thumb the cotton of your underwear, damp and warm already from his ministrations.

“That you’d be… glad to share with me,” you croon, biting down hard on your lower lip, “because I return the favour often in bed.”

Bucky retaliates by pushing the crotch of your panties to one side and dipping a finger into your slit, making your whole body twitch.

“Maybe it’s time you returned the favour now, then,” he rumbles. Your hips tilt forward into his touch. You whine. You can’t even pretend not to want this.

You reach forward, fingertips brushing the elastic edge of his sweatpants. That’s all he’s wearing- since when does he wander the compound in the middle of the night without a shirt?

You push his sweatpants and they slide precariously low on his hips. Beneath the baggy material, it’s easy to see that he’s getting hard. He nips in, slipping his hands under your thighs and pushing his hips forward to rub against you before you can even get another look.

“Bucky,” you gasp, looping your arms around his neck. He shucks his sweats down to his knees and his cock pops out against your thigh, twitching and rapidly stiffening with his growing excitement.

“Always wanted to fuck you down here,” he chuckles sleepily against your neck. He slides a hand between you to grab himself, giving a few strokes. He doesn’t need them- he’s like a steel rod against you- but he’s lining himself up and you’re already wet and this is not how you thought your Wednesday night would go.

He pushes forward, pumping into you right away with near-lazy strokes.

“Aw, fuck,” he groans against your skin, already starting to tremble. “Hell, baby, how come you never told me you were gonna be this tight?”

You can’t help but giggle. He’s had you a million times. But it never gets old, sex with Bucky. Not even in the compound kitchen at three o’clock in the morning.

He starts to rut up into you in earnest now, seeking a precise rhythm. He holds you firmly in place as he fucks you. The slow clap of your bodies is slightly muffled by your panties, still bunched in the crook of one thigh.

He slips his right hand between your legs and finds the swell of your clit.

“That’s it,” he pants, feeling the way you clench around him when he thumbs the tight bundle of nerves. “That’s it, baby, that’s it.”

You love the way he loses himself when he’s with you. He’s so measured in his everyday life- exercising control, nervous to seem collected in front of his other teammates. But when it’s you, when it’s just you, he’s vulnerable. He’s loving. He’s charming. He’s caught up in ecstasy.

When he comes, you feel every cell of him shake. Even in the quiet of the kitchen, where he has to bury his face in the crook of your neck and huff tenderly through it, pistoning his hips messily into your body as he pumps you full of him.

He surges forward. One hand braces fervently on the granite countertop. He knocks the Cherry Garcia over. Half-melted, it pools across the shiny surface.

You hold him gently as he resurfaces, waiting until he backs slowly from you to speak. He’s tucking himself back into his pants- wet, softening, and you can’t help but ogle.

“Please remind me,” you sigh, tugging your panties back between your thighs, “to steal your ice cream way more often.”

“Hey,” he barks, grinning playfully up at you. The exhaustion of the late hour is starting to settle over the both of you. “Don’t push it. I let you off with a warning this time.”

“That was just a warning?” You hop off the counter, pausing when you spot the mess out of the corner of your eye. “Shit.”

“Leave it,” Bucky growls playfully, grabbing you by the waist and tugging you close. “I kind of like it.” He grins, kissing your head.

“Somebody’s going to kill us in a few hours when they find it.”

Bucky just smiles, hooking an arm around your shoulders and ushering you toward the door. Back to bed.

“Let ‘em try.”

#bucky barnes/reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky/reader #bucky barnes/you #bucky barnes #reader insert #kinktober #jbbkinktober2020 #marvel #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel kinktober #marvel fanfic #readerfic

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silenthillmutual · 3 years

Note

hey for the prompts thing, maybe artemy's children and daniil? Also if you wanna stretch your utopian characters writing muscles, something with peter and grace(artemy helping him parent her, since the man was ready to feed her worms)? eva and daniil in the friendship way?? idk, something of that sort. I love your work, you have a delightful grasp of the characters and the english language itself

this isn't my best bc i've just been practicing writing to keep that skill strong, but i decided to do a little of all three :)

-----

“Please, Eva, you have to help me.”

Eva tilts her head at Daniil, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulder. Daniil knows she’s not that dense; it’s not the with what question, but the why. “Really, Daniil. I think you have a handle on things as it is.”

He absolutely does not have a handle on things. He is in way out of his depth. Over his head. However the saying goes - what’s been expected is far beyond him. Cats, he can watch over easily. They’re mostly self-sufficient, independent, but children? Daniil does not know the first thing about children.

“Humor me, then,” he says. Eva ducks her head, struggling to hide a smile. “Pretend for a moment that I don’t have a handle on things. How am I meant to keep children entertained?”

“Ah, I would think you would remember what it was like to be a child!” Daniil only scowls at the floor, shuffling his feet. “You remember how you wanted to be treated, don’t you? It’s not that different from now. You treat them with respect.”

“I know how to talk to children,” he says, and hopes he isn’t lying, “but how do I keep them entertained?”

“It’s only for a few hours. I think you’re worrying over nothing.” Daniil looks over his shoulder. They’re already seated at Eva’s piano, fingers toying with the keys. Every once in a while they will make contact, a soft plonk as a flat note plays in the open space, accompanied by a giggle. “Besides, Artemy left you in charge, not me. He trusts you.”

“He trusts everyone.” It sounds like more of a complaint than it’s really meant. The haruspex’s undying faith in others is admirable, really. Burakh’s favor is probably the only thing that’s kept the town’s inhabitants from running Daniil out into the steppe. But in this one occasion, that faith seems misplaced. “I should have said no.”

“So why didn’t you?”

Daniil has no answer. Or at least, he has no good answer. Judging by the smile creeping its way onto her face, Eva knows the only one he has. He tries to fan away her concern, and is met with her soft laughter, like the tinkling of glass. “Anyway, I’d feel much safer if you were here to help me.”

“Safer? Daniil, they’re just kids. You’ve done much more dangerous things in the time you’ve been here.” Daniil purses his lips, and Eva sighs. “I’ll help you, on one condition!”

“Name it.”

“Yulia.” Eva huffs, fiddling with her gloves. “I’ve invited her over to dinner, but she hasn’t sent her response. I think she’s nervous about seeing the Stamatins again - tell her they won’t be coming if it makes her so upset! Whatever you have to say, just make sure she agrees. I’ve been dying to see her.”

Much as he’d rather not get involved in anyone else’s affairs, he is sort of desperate here. Yulia can be difficult to convince when her mind is made up on something - impossible, even, he’d say - but he knows how fond the two women are of each other, and maybe his assurance that Andrey will be otherwise occupied will be enough. And really, all he has to do is try. “Fine,” he says, and Eva squeezes his arm in excitement before turning to the kids in the sitting room.

“I see you’ve found the piano. Would you like me to teach you a few scales?”

When Artemy agreed to help Peter prepare for Grace’s visit, he had no idea what it was he was signing up for. He’d thought an hour or so - enough time to leave his kids with Daniil and see how they fared together without overwhelming the other man. But it’s been two and a half hours now, and Peter doesn’t seem to be any closer to grasping the basics.

“You need milk, Peter. And eggs. Basic food items.” He stops just short of asking if the man is even aware of what constitutes food. He can’t be certain that the man even eats. He’s malnourished for someone of his height, and from what Artemy can tell his main consumption is twyrine. And that won’t be good for poor Grace.

That’s the main reason Artemy’s stayed so long. He wants to get back to his kids, to spend time with Daniil before the man returns to his work, but he worries about how Grace will fare here when Peter can’t seem to grasp the importance of a clean cooking surface and fresh ingredients. “Forgive me, old boy. It’s been so long since I have sought these things out for myself.”

Artemy tries not to groan. That’s about what he’d figured, and it’s not exactly what he’d call promising.

At least the apartment is looking marginally nicer. There’s space enough for them to walk around in, the empty bottles of twyrine have been discarded and the couch has been cleared of its debris. It’s not much, but it’s a start, and Artemy can appreciate how difficult even this was for the architect.

But it’s still not quite enough. Grace will be over within the hour, and Artemy’s not sure how much more help he can be to the man.

Before he can suggest they hold Grace’s visit off another day, a knock comes at the door and the girl herself enters. She doesn’t look quite sure of herself, her fists curled tight around the fabric of her dress, her eyes cast down; but she enters all the same, and stands just outside the door, waiting.

Artemy is the first to address her. “Grace.” He nudges Peter with his foot under the table. “It’s good to see you.”

Peter looks at Artemy, solemn, and follows his lead. “Welcome, girl.” There’s an awkward pause, and Artemy kicks his shin again. Peter stares at the table. “Come in from the door. There’s room for you by the couch.”

Grace smiles shyly and tucks her hands behind her back as she enters. Her eyes widen, taking in the apartment as if seeing it for the first time. And since Peter doesn’t seem to clean regularly, she very well could be.

“What happened to your paintings?” she asks, her voice quiet.

“I’ve moved them.” Artemy is preparing himself to nudge Peter once again, but this is something he’s more well-acquainted with. He’s slow to stand, one hand on the table to steady himself, and makes his way to what passes for a bedspace in this loft. Artemy watches from the table, chewing his lip, as Peter presents a painting to her.

At least it’s one of the more appropriate ones, though there’s something frightening about the splashes of paint. He’s no art critic, and he won’t pretend to understand, but there’s something very angry about this painting. Artemy wonders how obvious it is to Grace, who hasn’t seen much outside of the graveyard. He can’t imagine there’s much experimental art in the Saburov’s house.

A sudden pang hits him, watching the two interact. He may be frustrated with Peter, but it’s obvious the man is trying his hardest. It’s just been too long since he’s even taken care of himself, that of course it will take a while before he’s able to take care of another person. And Grace has such different needs that Artemy’s unsure the Saburovs will be able to meet. The way they talk to each other, he can sense an understanding between them, even when they’re not talking about exactly the same thing.

He’s going to wind up regretting this, for sure. He didn’t mean to leave his kids with Daniil for so long, but he can’t just give up here.

“It’s about time for lunch,” Artemy says. The two turn to look at him with matching looks of surprise. “Why don’t I show you how to cook something?”

Artemy dropped his children off around ten. Daniil expected him back around noon. He doesn’t mind making food for the children, except - well, he’s not the one doing it. Eva caught him attempting to make some excuses to head into the kitchen and beat him to it. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, with a look in her eyes Daniil found almost threatening, “I can handle it. You stay in here and get acquainted.”

“We’re already acquainted,” Daniil pointed out, but it didn’t matter much. Eva was determined to ignore him, making her way out of the room and leaving Daniil with two bored kids.

Murky had moved on from the piano some time ago, laying on the floor with charcoals and sketch paper Peter had left out the last time he’d come to visit. She didn’t ask for permission, but if Eva wasn’t going to tell her off then neither was Daniil. He can’t imagine Peter minding much or even remembering he’d brought the items with him, and as long as it’s keeping the girl occupied Daniil doesn’t have it in him to complain. Sticky, on the other hand, has taken to snooping around the house.

“Looking for something?” Daniil asks, watching him open up an end table drawer.

Sticky shrugs. “Not particularly.” He closes the drawer with a little more force than necessary and turns his gaze to the staircase, his eyebrows near to his hairline. “What’s up there?”

“My room.”

“Can I see it?” The sudden excitement catches him off guard. Daniil fiddles with his gloves. “You have a microscope, right? I’ve never used one. I know Rubin has one, but he won’t let me see it. Do you have slides? Can you show me something? Can you show me blood?”

“One question at a time,” Daniil says, huffing with amusement. Maybe this isn’t so bad. I was the same at his age. “I suppose you can come upstairs and see it, yes. I do have a few clean slides, yes, but I don’t have any samples lying around. I suppose I can come up with something, but…” he turns to look at Murky.

“She’ll be fine,” Sticky assures him. “It’s not like we’re going far, right?” He turns to his sister. “Murky, we’re going upstairs.”

She pauses in her drawing, looking at Sticky before her eyes turn away. “Do I have to come with you?”

“I don’t suppose you have to, no,” Daniil answers. “But if you need anything, you can come up and get us, alright, dear?” She doesn’t seem all that comfortable with the term, her mouth turning into a little scowl. She doesn’t answer, either, going back to her drawing as if no interruption had occurred.

Daniil leads Sticky up the stairs, listening to his babbling about the things he’s managed to glean from listening to Artemy and attempting to follow in his footsteps, from his discussions with Rubin when the man’s come to visit. Once they’re upstairs, he wanders around the room, picking up Daniil’s books and looking at them carefully, trying to pronounce the words aloud to himself. Daniil takes his distraction as a time to prick himself for a blood sample, readying the slide and pulling the chair back out from the table.

He clears his throat, and Sticky spins around, nearly dropping the heavy tome in his hands. “You wanted to see a blood sample, yes?” Sticky nods, scrambling his way over to the desk. Daniil has to guide him in how to use the microscope, in how to get a clearer picture of what he’s looking at. And Sticky has plenty of questions for him about what he sees, about how blood works in the body, about cells and warmth and movement.

As he’s speaking, Daniil simply forgets to be nervous. It’s not all that different to lectures - and to have someone honestly listening to him is actually quite nice. He’s so engrossed in directing Sticky that he doesn’t notice when Murky joins them. When she speaks, it startles him. “Why do you have a bunch of grass in a jar?” Sticky stifles a laugh as Daniil nearly jumps, moving around to the bookshelf where Murky is on her toes, peering at a glass jar. “They’re not even the right herbs. You can’t make anything out of that.”

“It’s not all grass. Take a closer look.” Daniil takes the jar off the shelf and holds it out for her to better see it. He watches her squint, and directs his finger about halfway up the jar. “Do you see the eyes here? This is a conehead grasshopper.”

Her eyes widen. “You keep a bug in a jar?”

“Well, I’d like to get a terrarium eventually, but you don’t seem to have any in town. I’d have to order one from the Capital.” He pauses. People usually find his collection of insects strange, but Murky seems fascinated. “I have books on insects, if you would like to…” Can she read? “Take a look?” Murky nods, and Daniil takes the jar back, looking through the bookshelf for the guide he’d brought with him.

Sticky’s not particularly interested in the bugs, but he entertains himself looking through Daniil’s medical textbooks while Daniil reads passages off of the insects Murky points to. When Eva comes to get them for lunch, he has to agree to bring the book downstairs with him to get her to go.

“Dad won’t let me keep bugs,” she mumbles around her food. “Says they don’t belong in the house.”

“My mother felt the same,” Daniil tells her. It feels strange to admit it, when it’s been so long since he’s spoken of his parents to anybody. Murky turns the pages of his field guide very carefully, silent as Sticky speaks up to ask him more questions about blood flow and circulation.

Now that he’s found ways of connecting with the kids, communication isn’t nearly as difficult as he’d thought it would be. He feels a little silly for winding himself up the way he had this morning - and these are Artemy’s kids, why had he imagined they’d be such a handful? Sure, they’re precocious, but not any worse than the other children in town.

They’ve just made their way back into the main room when the door to the Stillwater opens and Artemy appears. He looks exhausted, and Daniil can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. He knows what dealing with the Stamatins can be like, especially given how poorly Peter takes care of himself. He can’t begin to imagine what took Artemy so long, but things must have been pretty bad if it took him such a long time.

Artemy offers Daniil a small smile. “Thanks for looking after them, emshen.”

“It was my pleasure,” Daniil says, and he finds that for once it’s not simply a nicety. “They’re wonderful children, Artemy. Clearly you’re doing a fantastic job in raising them.”

“Truth be told, they raised themselves.” His smile is fond, turning from Daniil to his kids. “You guys ready to go?”

Murky looks up from her drawing - a new one, an attempt to freehand an illustration of a phasmid from Daniil’s field guide. She still has a slight frown on her face as she looks up at her father. “Now? Bachelor was going to show me how to catch insects with a net,” she tells him.

Artemy looks back at Daniil with some surprise on his face. Daniil can feel himself flushing as he tries to look anywhere but at Artemy. “Why don’t you come another day, Murky? It’ll give me time to get a second net.”

“I’ll be ready to go in a minute,” Sticky pipes up. “I just gotta finish -”

“Oh, you can borrow the book,” Daniil says, waving his hand. “Don’t mind the markings I left in it from school. And if you have any questions, well - you know where to find me.”

#icarus.docx #icarus.txt #pathologic

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analogicisms · 4 years

Text

Nickleback (Demus)

Summary: Based off @underdog-arts Band AU. Janus and Remus are both broadcasting majors and Remus just wants to maybe mush lips and make out ????

Based on: @underdog-arts Band AU which can be found on their Patreon.

Ship: Flirty Demus (future romance obvious). Pre-Canon timeline.

Rating & Warnings: PG13-ish. Make outs. Pretty vagueish.

Disclaimer: The author does not own Sanders Sides or any of the characters found therein. They are also not affiliated with Thomas Sanders, Joan Stokes, or the Thomas Sanders team. Only the complete story as it is written is the property of the author and is not to be copied or reposted without express permission from the author. Also, this is based off @underdog-arts Band AU.

A03: Link.

“Wait… so you’re saying you don’t hate Nickleback?”

The blond enby looked his way, eyelids lowered in a way that made them look as if they were about to let Remus in on the secret of his lifetime. The little smirk that slipped onto their face did nothing to stop the sudden rapid thud of his heart against his chest that seemed to be a constant side effect of spending time with the person.

Janus.

What an odd name? Still, it fit the enby. Like a glove.

“That’s a great way to say it,” Janus said with a little lilted chuckle. It was almost musical, in a way. “I don’t really like them but I will definitely listen through one of their songs if it’s on. Kinda a tradition, at this point. And really, they aren’t awful, really. Just not…”

“Anything to write home about?” Remus asked with a snort and a shrug.

Janus eyed him at that moment before slowly nodding. “Precisely, my friend.”

Their gazes held for a few moments after that. Remus felt like he needed to say or do something. Like, maybe let out a fake fart sound. Anything to break the almost iron hold that those pretty mismatched eyes had over him. He glanced from one, then to the other, and before he could stop himself, his gaze was falling to the tiny little smile that tugged on Janus’s lips.

When his eyes met Janus’s once more, Remus blushed to see the look in those amazing eyes. Janus had totally caught the way his gaze lingered on their lips. And yet, they weren’t saying or doing anything. Just grinning at him in a playful, engaging way.

That was all good right?

Ugh.

If only he could text his brother and ask. Roman was a bit of a Chad when it came to most things and was definitely always clueless in his own love life, but seemed to have a knack of romance when it came to other people. And that was what Remus needed right now.

As Janus picked up the document that explained their project, Remus pulled out his phone and quickly typed a text to his brother letting him know about the eye gazing that just went down and asking what to do next.

A few moments passed as he watched Janus set up the recording equipment that would allow them to create their radio broadcast project and when he looked down next, he saw the telltale ellipses that announced that Roman was responding.

Come on, bro.

He didn’t want the moment to pass though he was pretty sure it had already. A soft generic trill let him know that his brother responded but just as he opened the message, his phone was tugged out of his hand.

The next few moments happened in an almost dreamlike manner. He looked up to see that Janus now had his phone, their two-toned eyes locked on the screen as the little smile slowly grew into a bigger and more playful smirk.

Remus watched as the other clicked the button on the phone to put it to sleep, set it aside and quite obviously out of reach from Remus, before finally looking up at him. They turned their chair slightly to face him more easily.

“So… you’ve got a crush on me and want to kiss me, Remus?”

Remus blushed. He was so not a blusher but at that very moment, he couldn’t help it. Then again, the other was not weirded out or upset, so that was still very much in his favor, right?

His fingers itched to ask Roman but Janus had made that impossible. He could only rely on his own instincts.

I’m so screwed.

Remus decided that honesty was probably the best policy at this point.

“I… um…” Honesty. “Hell to the fuck yes, I do.”

Janus rested their elbow on the table’s surface and tilted their head, resting their cheek on their closed fist. The look on their face was definitely a “tell me more” sort of look.

“Oh? Yes, you do to which… the crush or the kissing?”

Remus grinned. “Both. Definitely.”

Janus grinned back.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Remus’s eyebrows rose nearly into his green hairline. He quickly gained his confidence once more, however, and reached out to take hold of the other’s shirt. Tugging them in, he grinned a sharp smile, his brown eyes locked on Janus’s heterochromatic ones.

“I guess I’m waiting for you to say you want it just as bad, babe.”

Janus chuckled and rolled their eyes.

“Guess you’ll be waiting for a very long time then,” they said, looking unfazed. However, the burning interest in those eyes was not something Janus was able to hide.

“Wrong. You just did.”

The slightest of blushes tinging the other’s cheeks was all it took. Remus surged forward and kissed Janus hard, feeling a rush of relief and excitement as the enby kissed back just as eagerly.

They continued to kiss like that, not stopping until the next broadcast major team came for their turn in the booth. Janus was certain that they could talk the instructor into giving them another session but Remus honestly couldn’t care.

One F would not be a hard price to pay for what just happened. Still, rather than tell Janus that, he did the only thing he could think of at this point.

“Wanna go up to my dorm and pick up from where we were so rudely interrupted?”

Remus’s heart thudded rapidly once more as the other moved into his space, brushed their lips against his own, and practically purred out their response.

“Maybe next time, sweetheart.”

With that, Remus watched Janus walk away. He was already feeling great about the next time he would see the enby but that feeling tripled when Janus—now about halfway down the hallway—glanced back at him with that same little smirk.

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mythandlaur · 3 years

Text

whatever the cost whether it works out or not i’ll follow you, i’ll follow you with my heart

OC-tober Day 1 - Journey Prompt list by oc-growth-and-development

Fandom: Warframe Canon Characters: Spoiler Character (Cephalon Fragments) Original Characters: Istha Merreth Warnings: None

Notes: Soooo, I’m doing this! Not sure how consistent I’ll be, but I at least want to throw out some short things for it. And no, this isn’t going in any main tags and I’m not mentioning the blog because hahahaha...haha...h a haha...

Things had never been terribly easy for them, it’s true--but their circumstances had only weighed harder on them in recent years, as the Orokin Empire’s growing stranglehold on the system and the clan’s deserted location made it harder and harder to keep people fed on their own. All they really had going for them was their steel and their freedom, and, though she did not wish to say it, she harbored doubts that the golden bastards wouldn’t come for both of those things sooner rather than later. The Orokin couldn’t stand anyone not under their control.

But that was a problem for the future. The current problem was supplies, which mostly came from other settlements on other planets. And, while they could occasionally pay passage on ships with “mercenary” work, it was harder to get into the heart of Orokin territory in such a way.

Which was why Istha is currently sitting in a shipping container in the cargo bay of a dingy Grineer mercantile transport vessel.

The Grineer were often chosen as ferries for goods within the empire, as they were less likely to sell said goods than the Corpus--and, for the purposes of herself and her companion, they were much easier to infiltrate. Not that she’d ever personally done it before, but he apparently had some experience with it, and she was willing to trust him on this.

What she wasn’t willing to trust him on was how long they were intended to stay in the damn boxes. Istha lets out a long sigh and tries not for the first time to shift into a more comfortable position; her feet hit the wall while her head hits the inside corner and she groans in growing frustration. It’s impossible to tell how much time has passed, but she’s starting to lose her patience, and kicks one of the metal crate walls as best she can, letting out a satisfying clang. She hopes that will serve as enough of an indication to her partner that she wants out.

There’s a long silence, and then a muffled, matching clang from somewhere nearby. Istha decides to take this as an affirmative and begins to push her lid open. The Grineer weren’t always the best at handling their cargo, and so her own crate had wound up on its side (luckily for both her and the Grineer who’d set down the box, as most fragile cargo could not brace its feet and arms into the walls and wait for a safe moment to crawl to the newly-reoriented ground).

It doesn’t take long for Istha to force the crate open, and she crawls out on her hands and knees into the cargo bay proper. The cargo bay isn’t much brighter than the inside of the crate, but in the emergency lighting, she can make out the glint of a crimson blade sticking out of the top of a crate in the next row, and she grins.

Yeah, she figured he was starting to go insane, too.

He hadn’t gotten as lucky as her with his crate’s orientation, so she watches as he laboriously pries the lid open and pushes it back so it’s barely balancing on one of the crate’s walls. The sword is thrown over the edge so he doesn’t impale himself on it, before he lifts himself over the edge as well, balancing awkwardly on his stomach and trying to get his hands to reach the ground. Istha covers her mouth to try and hide her snickering, but this quickly dissolves into full-on laughter as he loses his balance and tumbles onto the ground in an awkward somersault, ending up on his back.

It takes Istha several seconds to calm down enough to speak. “I am forever grateful that you chose to train me.”

He drags himself into a sitting position, glaring at her with a sort of muffled growl that just makes her burst out laughing again, doubling over on herself. Blood and bone, she thunks to herself, I was trapped in there too long.

“If you’re finished.”

Istha snorts, but slowly manages to pull herself together and sit up properly, though she still throws a smirk in his direction. “I liked the landing. Is it a new technique?”

“You know me, the notorious blade in a box.” He huffs a sigh, but she catches a quiet chuckle following it. “You all right?”

“Pretty much.” Istha stretches her arms over her head. “How do you do this?”

“Usually, about the same way we did it this time. Except once or twice when I went on these trips I was smaller.”

Istha wraps her arms around herself as the chill of the cargo bay hits her. At least the air is somewhat less recycled, but the ambient temperature makes her question just how much steel the Grineer actually put between the cargo bay and the ravenous void of space. “How far do you think we are?”

He shrugs. “We had an early stop, that was probably the Phobos station, and we should’ve translated once already. Maybe Europa?”

Istha winces, but looks away quickly to try and hide it. It’s not a big portion of the trip, but she already feels like she’s missed so much. She’d never seen a ship void translate before. “So a while yet to Uranus, then.”

“Yes. What’s wrong.” She can feel his piercing gaze on her and hunches her shoulders. Damn it, was she that obvious? “Body language,” he adds, again as if reading her mind. “You’re defensive. Lacking confidence.”

Istha scrunches her face up in frustration and makes a conscious effort to open up her posture towards him. Confident, but not stupid. You hold your chest high, but never, ever forget that it’s a target.

“...I’ve never been off-planet before,” Istha admits. She’d learned a long time ago that it was useless to lie to him; he was much too good at reading the little twitches and quirks of others. It was part of what made him as capable a warrior as he was--he could read his opponents like a book without even thinking about it, while she was often more...single-minded. “Mama told me that we used to move around a lot more. Pack everyone up on a ship and hop to another planet.”

“You know I can’t remember the last time we did that, either.” Right, she often forgets that he’s not really that old--not much older than her. “But I know that was when there were less of us, and there was more of the system out there.”

“Golden bastards,” she grumbles, and he nods in understanding. The Orokin had gotten a reputation for destroying most everything they touched, not that anyone would say it within earshot of a Dax. “Do you really think these trips will be enough?”

“For now, they have to be.” His tone is grim and brokers no argument. “What troubles you.”

Istha sticks out her tongue in his direction. Stubborn as a mule, all the better to match with her. “You’re not going to be dissuaded, are you.”

He smiles. “No.”

“Couldn’t we go up top? Smash a few heads, look out the window?”

“Let’s see, there’s about...a hundred Grineer on this ship, and two of us.” He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow knowingly. “We shouldn’t, not with those numbers. Wouldn’t want them to feel too bad about themselves.”

Istha barks a laugh, but it’s short-lived. “Seriously. We could handle them.”

“We could. But the Grineer like their manual ships, no fancy Orokin navigational system or what-have-you. Can’t risk the pilot dying.”

“Don’t you know how to pilot?”

His eyelids lower. “Istha. I wouldn’t be caught dead flying this kind of bucket.”

“Well...” She shrugs. “I could probably figure it out.”

“Don’t. For the sake of all that is still good in this system, don’t try to figure it out.”

Istha grins, languidly leaning forward so her chin rests on her hands. “Have a little faith in me, friend~”

“Absolutely not.”

“Are you worried I’d put you to shame?”

“I’m worried that I would be caught dead in this bucket.”

Istha lets the sly act dropp, shifting so her cheek rests on one palm. “Really, though. I don’t want to go my whole life without seeing the stars from here, you know?”

He presses his lips together into a thin line, and glances off to where one of the far walls of the cargo bay should be. Her eyebrows shoot up toward her hairline.

“...We’d have to wait,” he cautions. “Can’t risk springing something like that too early.”

“But you want to.”

“I may want to put some Grineer in their place. That’s all.”

He folds his arms, ostensibly shutting her down, but Istha’s eyes crinkle in amusement as he continues to stare into the distance--she knows she’s going to get exactly what she wants, and she’s not even going to have to drag him along behind her. He knows it, too, judging by the faint turn to his lips he tries to tamp down.

If waiting is his only condition, she’s willing to go along with it, just as long as she gets out of the cargo bay. Really, she doesn’t mind the waiting now that she’s out of that crate and with him, even if they sit in silence for most of it.

She’ll pass the journey entertained by the mental images of the surprised looks on the Grineer’s faces when they realize what they’ve done, and that’s quite enough for her.

And she isn’t actually going to try and pilot the ship.

...Probably.

#this is a mess that ends abruptly but i needed something

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alphi-writes · 4 years

Note

Thank you for ur answer earlier! It's crystal clear owo)👌 then, may i request jack jamil and kalim with dancing+bonfire? Thank you in advance! Have a good day/night and don't forget to stay hydrated! 🌸

Of course! (*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡ I'm really sorry it took so long to get these posted, but I tried to make up for it by putting more effort into the writing. Make sure to get at least a bit of sunlight today if you can🧡

Characters: Jack, Jamil, Kalim

Items: Dancing, Bonfire

Jack Howl

Jack decided to join you tonight, since you invited him to the bonfire earlier in the day. It was almost seven thirty by the time you got the bonfire actually going, and you were beginning to think Jack wouldn't want to stay.

"Alrighty then, Jack-A-Boy, let's get to our late night gab session." You threw yourself into the chair sat next to Jack's, leaning over the edge expectantly.

His ears flattened, "Don't you have any activities planned? Usually you'd want to set off a fountain candle or two, and you didn't bring any snacks-"

You leaned over, tipping the chair on its side where the two left feet lifted above the ground. You pushed your index finger to his lips, shushing him.

"It is autumn, and we are going to be festive without fountain candles. This is what normal people do, Jackie, they sit and watch the fire- oh my gosh are we old people now?"

Honestly, Jack felt lost. Maybe he was overthinking things, but you didn't hang out one-on-one with him very often, and if you did, Grimm was always there. This time it was just the two of you.

You sat quietly for a few minutes, may ten, just enjoying the crackling heat in the cool of autumn. Every once in a while, you'd feel Jack's gaze on you, and finally, you caught him.

"Are you... nervous? Is the Jack Howl nervous to be alone out here with me? A magic-less human? HaH! I laugh in the face of your untimely jitters!" He watched as you laughed in your seat, a light heat washing over his face.

Of course he was nervous! He didn't show it often, but he really liked hanging out with you! He didn't want you to know that though because then he would lose his cool-guy bad-boy vibe.

He'd be reduced to a puppy dog if he let on that he enjoyed being around you. And not only that, but your personalities were vastly different.

Jack was ripped from his thoughts when you stood up and grabbed his hands in yours.

You pulled him from his seat and lead him closer to the fire.

"Come on, let's dance! I know this one dance that we did every year at the festivals back home." Jack tugged against you, albeit flustered from the contact.

"Uhm, no, I don't dance." His hand flew up to the back of his neck at his hairline, and you could see the embarrassment in his furrowed eyebrows.

You hummed quietly, nodding in understanding.

"Fine, I'll show you this dance tonight, and if you can't perform it perfectly byyy... tomorrow- I'll just have to find some collateral for payback." You were obviously joking, but he looked visibly distraught by your words.

You only dismissed his expression before starting your dance.

You weren't the smoothest at dancing, and you were stiffer than you should've been, but you knew this dance well.

Your movements were quick and deliberate, sweeping in directions like a gust of wind. Every so often, you'd catch a glimpse of Jack staring at you with large eyes.

His ears were straight up and his tail was wagging so quickly it was only a blur of grey.

You soon finished swaying around, pausing for a moment to catch your breath before grinning at Jack.

"Dancing is pretty cool, y'know, so I hope you'll dance with me some other time." You gazed down at Jack as he sat there quiet.

He didn't speak, and it caused your smile to falter.

"That was- wow, I've never seen anyone dance like that before." His face was burning and his tail had slowed to a wave.

Your smile returned. You laughed loudly, wiping the sweat from nerves and the heat off hour forehead.

"Phew, I thought you didn't like it for a moment there."

Jack jumped up, "No-!" He yelped, "it was great!"

His outburst startled you, and your eyes widened when his hands lightly grasped yours. He wasn't usually like this, and it made you chuckle.

"Could you teach me to dance like that?"

"Of course."

Jamil Viper

Jamil was suprised by the temperature of the air around your dorm.

"Is it usually this cold?"

"No," you threw a bundle of sticks on the formation of branches, "its autumn now so its beginning to cool down some. Its definitely colder than Scarabia though."

Jamil joined you tonight because you invited him to a good old fashioned autumn bonfire, which he's never been a part of.

You remember freaking out when he told you he'd never been to a bonfire before, and you knew that you'd have to invite him to on that exact night.

Sure you didn't plan on having one this night, but the absence of a bonfire in Jamil's memories just drove your determination.

"And it's just a large fire?"

"Yea, it's pretty cool. You'll see the appeal."

He nodded with his fist on his chin, scanning the surrounding area. He stood there awkwardly as you finally lit the brambles on fire, standing in front of the flames with your arms in the air.

"Hell yea, warmth."

You sat down on a fold-out chair you brought our earlier, patting the seat next to it for Jamil.

He sat down, staring at the fire. He was used to heat and fires like this one, but he'd never been in crisp air while a fire was going. It was a bit odd, but he liked the feeling of autumn. Maybe not more than the temperatures and winds of Scarabia or the Hot Sands, but he could see himself sitting here often.

"Oooh, Jamil, you dance, yes?"

He nodded, turning his head towards you.

When you met his eye, you began to think maybe you shouldn't ask him to dance. Your face began to tingle and you sunk in your chair.

"Why?"

You wrung your hands together, "ah, well, it's nothing, nevermind."

He sat quiet for a moment before standing up.

"I can dance for you, if that's what you want." He had a small smile on his face as he stood up and stretched his back muscles.

You panicked slightly, "No, you don't really have to Jamil-!"

"Do you not like my dancing?"

"Wh- no it's not that," you threw your hands up, "I just dont want you to feel like you have to dance for me."

He chuckled quietly at your panic.

"Its alright, I want to dance for you."

And he did.

He danced for what seemed like only a few moments, but was really about half an hour. Even in that time frame, he never once faltered, never once seemed tired or out of stamina.

He was so fluid, moving as if he were water in the wind. He was elegant, beautiful, gorgeous.

When he was finished, he swung to a stop, a large grin on his face. The largest smile you've ever seen him bare.

You were up in a second, glomping him in glee.

"Jamil, you were amazing! Oh my gosh, you were gorgeous!!" He chuckled while you peppered him with compliments.

When he brought his eyes back up to yours, his breathing hitched quietly.

The look in your eyes.

Not lust or hunger, not an emotion that was anything derogatory.

Just pure, utter, true love.

Your lips curved up and you chuckled quietly.

"Jeez, are you gorgeous." You whispered, gently bonking your head on his chest.

You felt his chest rise and fall steadily before his arms loosely wrapped around your back.

Kalim al Asim

"There you go, the last branch." You threw the last branch on and brushed the excess branch bits from your hands.

Kalim cheered happily, unfolding the chairs for the two of you.

Kalim was practically jumping in joy, "This is gonna be so fun!" He exclaimed.

You chuckled, "Yea."

He was always so exuberant and obnoxious, but it was just another part of his charms.

You were planning to have a bonfire by yourself, and when you mentioned it earlier today during lunch, Kalim jumped at the idea.

You couldn't just say 'nah you can't come to my bonfire in which I am the only attendee'. You weren't some monster.

So of course you invited him, and not begrudgingly, no, you were ecstatic to have him join you. He even helped build the bonfire.

"So you' ve never had a bonfire?"

"Not one like this!"

"What other kinds of bonfires are there..?"

You laughed it off, lighting the sticks ablaze.

"Burn baby, burn, said the pyromaniac!" You laughed as the flames grew.

Kalim grinned at you, moving closer to the fire to feel the heat.

"Its always hot in the Land of Hot Sands, so it's nice to feel heat while theres still the pinch of cold in the air."

It was quite relaxing. Although you liked the nip of cold, you loved the feeling of warmth just as much.

You weren't one for Scarabia heats, but a normal, balanced heat was the best for you.

Kalim swayed as he took in the heat, closing his eyes and grinning up at the night sky.

The way the light of the flames danced on his face made his dark skin light up with oranges and yellows. He looked so warm and peaceful. So happy.

When he opened his eyes and looked down at you, you averted your eyes quickly.

"I have a great idea! Lets dance!" He was already grabbing your hands before you could utter a word.

Now, before you even began to dance, you already knew Kalim was a solo dancer. Sure he would dance near others, but they were never dancing together.

He was attempting the common waltz, and although he was raised as royalty, you could tell that the fairy tale books weren't all factual.

Kalim often stepped on your feed, apologizing quickly. He bonked his head against yours a few times, and even accidentally tangled his leg with yours.

"Okay, let me lead, Kalim." You said through your laughter.

He nodded sheepishly, instead moving his hands to your shoulder and left hand. You intertwined your left hand with his, and rested your right on his waist.

You were close enough that your could feel his breath on your face.

"Okay, we'll start off slow so you can get the hang of the foot movements."

You looked down at his feet, motioning with your left foot for him to step backwards.

Your left foot went forward and his went back, then both of your right feet went outwards.

"This is the box step, the most basic form of waltz. Right foot forward."

You went around your imaginary boxes a few times before he actually began to understand the formation.

Left foot back, right foot out, right foot forward, left foot out. The dance was simple, and the box kept moving as you rotated around the bonfire in a circular motion.

He was a quick learner, and soon you found he could perform the steps without having to look at his feet.

"Y/N, I think I have a hang of it!"

You chuckled quietly, nodding, "I believe so!"

Although the box step wasn't usually performed around a bonfire, yours moved perfectly.

Now Kalim could go back to his dorm to tell Jamil about his partner dance.

"This is actually really fun." His voice had lowered to a whisper, and he was looking at you with a smile.

You smiled back, gently butting your forehead against his.

"Well yea, and it's simple too!"

The box step was a simple four-step rotation dance. Some would even call it boring if it drawled on for too long.

But the two if you continued on waltzing late into the night. You took this as time to share your thoughts and woes, held closely together, hands knitting to each other.

This was your time with Kalim. Just you, Kalim, and the autumn air.

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