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nerdzzone · 3 years

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Luckless Romance

Summary: When Whitney Taylor was lucky enough to get the job of a lifetime doing a photoshoot for Marvel Studios, she didn’t expect to come away from the experience with a new friend. Especially not a friend that she quickly fell head over heels for.

Convinced that those feelings were completely one sided, she kept them to herself - until one night changed everything.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Prequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy + -More Hearts Than Mine-

Note: While this is set before the other two parts of this story, I would definitely recommend reading the other two first if you haven’t already. I know that might seem odd, but I do think it flows better that way. This is more of an aside than an introduction, I think, but it could just be that I wrote them in this order so that’s how it makes sense to me.

Anyway! Thank you to everyone who has been eagerly awaiting this part of their story. The support has been so motivating and I’m already working on more little snippets of their lives together that should hopefully be posted soon.

Please let me know what you think!

_____

August 2015

Growing up in Los Angeles - especially with a rather well known uncle - I was very aware that celebrities were really just normal people who usually weren't deserving of the obsessive adoration they received from the general public.

That being said, it still felt very surreal when I found myself sitting around a table with some of Hollywood's biggest stars as we celebrated the end of a long and tiring photo shoot in which I was the photographer. Three weeks earlier, I had been slaving away at a department store portrait studio taking boring, uninspired family photos, so the contrast between that and where I was now - sharing drinks with the cast of Marvel's next big movie after wrapping my first real photography gig - would be enough to make anyone feel a tad awestruck.

It didn't help that it had all come together so quickly that I'd hardly had time to wrap my head around it. The photographer that they originally had lined up to do the shoot had some kind of family emergency and had to drop out at the last minute. They were going to postpone the shoot indefinitely, but my family connections with Iron Man provided another solution. My uncle Rob wasted no time in giving Marvel my name and portfolio and less than twenty-four hours later I was signing a contract for the biggest career opportunity I'd ever had.

I was endlessly grateful - the pay was far better than I was getting at the department store and there was plenty of potential for more Marvel related photo shoots in the future - but the pressure was nerve wracking. I'd hardly slept at all in the few days leading up to it and by the time we wrapped, I was exhausted. As the adrenaline faded and the relief that I survived kicked in, I was very much looking forward to crawling into my bed with a nice glass of wine to get a good night's sleep before I started the editing process the next day.

But there was no time for rest with this crowd and it was quickly decided that we were all going out for some kind of unofficial wrap party. The official one had been two weeks before when they'd finished filming in Georgia, but now that they were reunited in L.A., it seemed another celebration was necessary. I'd protested at first and tried to sneak off before they could realize I was gone, but my uncle thwarted my plan and, after a few minutes of heavy guilting about how long it had been since I'd spent any time with him, I reluctantly agreed.

Which was how I found myself sitting at a table in a private room of a popular bar with my uncle - Robert Downey Jr - my Aunt Susan, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, Scarlett Johannsen and Paul Rudd. There were other cast members and their friends dotted around the room, some sitting by the bar while others played pool, and I couldn't help but take a moment to be grateful that I'd been given a chance to join this team of incredibly talented people in some small way.

I was also taking a moment to be grateful that my placement in the booth we were sitting in gave me the opportunity to be sandwiched between the wall and Chris Evans - who smelt so good that it should probably be illegal.

There'd been a spark between us all day. He was attractive - I'd known that going in, it was a pretty beautiful cast - but seeing him in person with all his Captain America muscles was really quite a sight.

But it was more than just that.

There was something about the way he looked at me, flashing me those blush inducing smirks along side his teasing comments and the way he was so genuinely kind and polite to me throughout the whole day. I was sure that my uncle had warned them that this was my first high profile shoot, but Chris had been incredibly supportive and he never came across as condescending if he offered me any suggestions. He checked in with me throughout the day to make sure that I wasn't getting too overwhelmed and it was very much appreciated despite the fact that his effortless flirting often left me more distracted than productive.

Sitting next to him now, feeling his thigh pressed against mine due to the tight squeeze needed to fit our whole group around the table, had me very distracted again until my uncle dragged me back into the conversation.

"So, Whitney, how's Trent?"

His question, or more likely the displeasure in his voice when he asked it, captured the attention of the table and all eyes were on me as I shrugged.

"He's great as far as I know, but I haven't talked to him in a while," I admitted. "We broke up a couple of months ago."

"Thank god for that," Robert grinned. "It's about time!"

"Don't be insensitive," Susan scolded him, which probably would have been deserved if I didn't know how accurate of a statement it was. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I think she means 'what horrible thing did he do that finally made you come to your senses'?"

Susan swatted at her husband, but I cringed at the memory.

"It was really bad. I don't even want to tell you."

His jaw tightened at that remark as his glee shifted to something more like concern.

"What did he do? Do I need to assemble my team of Avengers and kick his ass?"

I giggled at the thought of that happening as all the men around the table voiced their willingness to help.

"Thank you, but no, I'd rather you didn't," I assured them. "It wasn't anything horrific, it's just embarrassing that I ever went out with someone as sleezy as he was."

Chris glanced down at me with a smirk on his face.

"Well, in that case, you gotta tell us now..."

The rest of the group nodded in agreement and I, rather foolishly, looked at my uncle for support, but all I received was a shrug and a raise of his eyebrow as if to say 'go on'. So, against my better judgment and with a sigh of shame and regret, I explained.

"He took me out for drinks on my birthday and invited some woman that he met on Tinder to join us," I informed them. "Apparently, without my knowledge, he'd advertised that we were looking for someone to join us for a threesome that night which was his birthday gift to me."

There was a collective widening of eyes and, after approximately two seconds of stunned silence, a howl of laughter came from my uncle. The rest of the group, however, seemed unsure what to say until Paul spoke up.

"Well, was that was you asked for?"

"No!" I shrieked in protest. "I mean, to each their own, but no! Absolutely not!"

My uncle looked like he was about to cry from laughter as the rest of the group joined in with him. All except for Chris, who was biting back a smile with what seemed to be a considerable amount of effort.

"Guys, c'mon, don't laugh at that!" He scolded them. "That's horrible!"

"Oh, don't feel too bad for her," Robert warned him, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "The guy took her to Hooters on their first date and she still agreed to see him again."

It was true and looking back, I had no way to justify such a poor choice. I felt my cheeks heat up as I took a long sip from the gin and tonic in front of me.

"Shut up," I huffed. "He said he just liked the wings there..."

"That's classic," Sebastian smirked. "That's what they all say!"

"Why did you even agree to go out with a man named Trent?" Anthony chimed in. "There's no way someone named Trent isn't going to be a douche bag."

Chris laughed then, throwing his head back as his hand came up to rest on his chest.

"That's true!" He howled and, as embarrassed as I was by the situation, I couldn't help but feel a different kind of flush at the sound of his heartfelt laugh.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," Susan chimed in despite the smile on her face as well. "It sounds like poor Whitney has learned her lesson so there's no need to make her feel any worse."

Robert shrugged and gave me a pointed look.

"As long as she promises to make better choices."

I appreciated that he had my best interest at heart, but I rolled my eyes anyway in a show of annoyance.

"Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm swearing off men for a while so there will be no choices made at all, good or bad, for the foreseeable future."

Susan frowned at that information, clearly displeased by my resignation to being alone, but luckily, a distraction arrived at our table and forced a change of subject - a distraction in the form of Jeremy Renner with a very full tray of shots.

Everyone cheered at the sight of him, but my uncle nudged me under the table to draw my attention back towards him.

"This is why I call him the Lord of the Underworld," he warned me. "Be careful..."

"Don't listen to him!" Jeremy insisted, handing out two shots to everyone except my aunt and uncle who weren't drinking. "I just know how to encourage everyone to have a good time."

"Does this group need any encouragement?"

Scarlett's question earned a laugh from the crowd, but Jeremy nodded his head.

"Apparently so or you wouldn't all be sitting in a corner, nursing your first drinks!" He pointed out. "So, drink up!"

He lifted a shot glass in the air and we all copied the action, giving a 'cheers' before tossing back the sharp tequila he'd chosen. The second shot went down almost immediately after and as I felt it burning down my throat, I knew we were in for quite a night.

"So, how are we going to do this?" Chris asked as we stood around a ping pong table with Anthony and Scarlett a bit later in the evening. "Girls against boys?"

"No way, man," Anthony shook his head, putting his arm around Scarlett's shoulders. "I want this one on my team."

"Ouch," Chris smirked. "But whatever, I was just trying to make it fair. If you want to play against the two best players then that's your choice."

"You literally met her today," Scarlett reminded him with a laugh. "How would you know what her ping pong skills are like?"

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but my uncle beat me to it as he chimed in from where he sat at a nearby table.

"She's terrible at almost every sport, but what she lacks in skill, she makes up for with competitive spirit."

"Terrible is harsh!"

My protest did nothing to reassure Chris though as he shook his head.

"Good thing I have enough skill for the both of us then."

"I have skills!" I insisted. "Let's stop messing around and I'll prove it."

Anthony joined in the laughter at my expense as he bounced the ball on the table.

"Alright, do we all know the rules?" He asked. "The ball has to bounce once on your side of the table before you can hit it back."

"First to ten?" Chris suggested. "We'll let you guys go first."

We all agreed and Anthony bounced the ball again as he prepared to serve. He started off slow and gentle, lobbing it over slowly enough that I returned it with no trouble. However, when Scarlett hit it back, Chris made it clear he was here to play as he hit it with enough force that Scarlett had to leap out of the way to avoid being hit.

"Yes!" I cheered, reaching over to high five Chris. "Nice one!"

"Okay, I see how it is," Anthony shook his head as he tossed the ball back to us for our serve. "No holding back now."

Chris smirked as he easily caught the ball. He didn't waste any time before throwing it back with a hard serve, but this time they were ready for it and Anthony hit it back easily. He aimed it at me, which I could only assume was deliberate due to my uncle's doubts of my abilities, but I managed to send it straight back. His surprise at my success was clear as he was unprepared for it to be heading back in his direction and we scored another point.

"Beginners luck!"

Robert's interjection from the sidelines earned him a rude gesture from me, but I knew he was probably right - unless the last couple of drinks had somehow sharpened my reflexes and I seriously doubted that as I was already well on my way past tipsy.

However, the next few rounds showed that my uncle had been wrong and I, apparently, had quite a knack for table tennis. Chris and I worked together like a dream and were absolutely decimating Scarlett and Anthony. The game was almost over as fast as it started, but when we only needed one more point Chris suddenly appeared to give up. He missed shot after shot and we were quickly losing our lead which was making me lose my temper.

"Dammit, Chris," I huffed, trying to suppress my annoyance as he missed a very easy ball. "Get it together over there!"

"Me?!" He gawked. "I thought you were going to get that one!"

"It was clearly on your side!"

"If that's what you think," he started as he picked up the ball and came back to the table. "Then you need to get your eyes tested, sweetheart."

"Don't 'sweetheart' me," I shot back. "Start paying more attention before you make us lose."

"Whatever you say," he smirked at me before adding: "Sweetheart."

I shot him a glare and - without thinking - I swatted his very hard to ignore, perfectly sculpted bum with my paddle. He yelped, catching the ball that he'd just thrown into the air with the intention of serving and stared at me wide-eyed. I was almost as surprised by the action as he was and I opened my mouth to apologize, but I was interrupted before I could.

"Careful there, Whitney," Sebastian warned from where he sat with my uncle at the spectator's table. "That's Marvel property!"

"They're very protective of it too," Anthony joked. "It's one of their best assets."

"Yeah, so show it some respect," Chris demanded, looking cocky despite the slight red tint to his cheeks. "And anyway, if you're trying to get me to focus then I don't think making me think about spanking is a great strategy."

"Ooh," I giggled. "Someone get me the number for TMZ! I've got tomorrow's headline ready for them: 'Chris Evans likes to be spanked'!"

Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he gently served the ball.

"Who said I like to be the one receiving?"

My mouth went dry when I realized what he was implying and several uncalled fantasies flashed through my brain. With that short little sentence, images filled my mind of him using his large hands for something entirely different to what they were currently doing - something that perhaps involved bending me over his lap. I felt a wave of heat wash over me at that thought as my gaze was drawn to him while I wondered if he was aware of the effect that he had on me. I was so pathetically distracted that I didn't even see the ball coming back towards us until it hit me on the side of my head.

Despite my embarrassing blunder, Chris and I managed to get ourselves together quickly enough to still win the game and our victory was promptly celebrated by another round of drinks.

My aunt and uncle left not long after that as they were eager to get home to their young children, but my uncle couldn't go without a few parting words when I hugged them goodbye.

"Chris is a good man," he informed me. "I'm not sure what his stance is on threesomes, but he wouldn't take you to Hooters on a first date, that's for sure."

I could tell what he was implying, but I questioned him anyway. The only answer I could pull out of him was a teasing wink and Susan ushered him out the door with a roll of her eyes and firm instructions for me to call them soon.

I tried to push his comment from my mind because the thought of a man as handsome, funny and intelligent as Chris Evans even considering the idea of taking me on a date seemed like insanity, but I would have been lying if I said it didn't instill a tiny flicker of hope in me. I was fairly certain that he had been flirting with me so maybe it wasn't entirely as far-fetched as my low self-esteem would have me believe.

I tried not to dwell on his words too much through the rest of the evening, but it was hard to shake the idea from my mind. Especially with how tactile he was with me. Whether it was when we moved on to dancing and he pulled me close, whenever we were walking to the bar and kept his arm draped around my waist or when we eventually settled on a pair of bar stools, sitting close enough that my knees were tucked between his.

That was how we were sat, tucked together at the bar, when I finished another drink and realized that the fuzziness in my head and the weight of my eyelids were telling me that it was time to head home. I wasn't eager for the night to end, I wanted to stay in this little flirtatious bubble as long as possible, but I could feel the alcohol induced fatigue hitting me and I knew I needed to leave before I no longer had the energy.

"How are you getting home?" Chris asked when I announced my departure. "Do you want some company while you wait for a cab?"

"Oh, that's okay," I assured him as I slid off the bar stool I'd been sitting on. "I'm just gonna walk."

"Walk?" He raised an eyebrow. "Where do you live?"

"Only about twenty minutes away," I shrugged. "It's no big deal."

I was being purposely vague, but Chris' questions persisted until I finally confessed what neighbourhood I lived in. Once I did, a worried look clouded his face.

"Really? That's not a great area..."

"It's not that bad!" I insisted. "I mean, I'll definitely move once the photography thing picks up and I would appreciate if you don't tell my uncle, but it's not that bad."

"He doesn't know?" Chris raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that could only be interpreted as one of judgment. I nodded in answer to his question and he sighed, tossing back the last of the beer in front of him before standing up as well. "Just let me say goodbye and I'll walk with you."

"No, no, you don't have to do that! Stay with your friends."

"My Ma would kill me if she found out I let a woman walk home alone and I'm guessing Robert would have something to say about it too from what you just said," he insisted, flashing me one of his dazzling smiles. "Besides, I was gonna head out soon anyway."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded in response.

"Absolutely."

I felt bad that he was leaving because of me, but I had a feeling that any arguments would be futile. I followed him around the room, saying goodbye to the few people who were still at the bar before we headed outside. As soon as the fresh air hit me, I really felt the full affects of the several drinks I'd had throughout the night and I was quite grateful for Chris' company on my walk.

"Thanks for doing this. I'm sorry you had to leave early."

Chris had pulled his baseball hat lower on his head, probably in an attempt to hide his identity a bit more, but the people bustling in the streets were too oblivious or drunk to pay much attention.

"Don't worry about it," he smiled down at me. "It was time for me to go anyway. I've had enough wild nights with Renner to know that nothing good happens after midnight."

"Oh, I see how it is," I smirked. "I thought this was a chivalrous gesture, but it's just an act of self-preservation."

Chris laughed, a deep laugh that made my smirk slide into a grin, as he held out his arm for me to take which I happily did.

"Can't it be both?"

"I suppose. I guess you must be pretty chivalrous to take on a role like Captain America." As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my cheeks heat up. "Sorry, that was dumb. I sound like some shitty interviewer. Like, 'tell me what aspects of the character you see in yourself'."

I'd put on a bad, faux news anchor voice for the last part of that sentence and I felt Chris' arm shake as he chuckled, but he shook his head.

"Nah, it's fine. It's a fair question," he assured me. "I think I've always been pretty chivalrous. I'm close with my mom and two sisters so they made sure I knew how to treat a lady. But that is one bonus of playing a character like Cap, he has such strong morals and such a steady sense of right and wrong, it inspires me to be as much like him as I can be."

Just as he finished his thought, I stumbled over an uneven part of the sidewalk and was only saved from face planting by his grip on my arm. I flushed with embarrassment again, but the alcohol in my system had me dissolving into giggles.

"Sorry, thank you. Wow, I'd say you really do have some Captain America traits." I flashed him a smile. "Was it like a lifelong dream for you? If you don't mind me asking, last question about it, I promise."

"You can ask all the questions you want," he shrugged and it seemed genuine, not just an expected assurance. "But no, it wasn't. I actually turned it down several times."

"Really? You did? Isn't a role like that every actor's dream?"

"Probably," he nodded. "But I did the Marvel thing with Fantastic Four and even that little taste of fame was almost too much for me. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do and I'm so grateful for all the opportunities I've been given, but it can be a lot to deal with."

"Those obsessive fangirls too much for you?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. " I was already having panic attacks, so I wasn't sure that I could handle taking that next step. But it's more just the total lack of privacy that comes with fame. Not just for me either, I knew it would affect my whole family."

"That makes sense," I nodded, knowing from my own experience that he was absolutely right. There'd been a few unfortunate incidents on slow news days where articles about 'Robert Downey Jr.'s niece' had popped up after some of my poorer choices in life. "Are you glad that you went for it now?"

"Absolutely! It was the best thing I've ever done. There are times when I still struggle, I don't do well at the premieres with all the pressure and the people, but the whole cast is like a family so the support is amazing."

"It's really sweet how close you guys all seem to be."

"It makes a big difference," Chris agreed as we turned off the main street in the direction of my neighbourhood. "But what about you? Have you always wanted to be a photographer?"

I paused for a moment as I tried to get my rather tipsy brain to figure out the simplest response to his question.

"Yes and no," I finally answered. "I've always loved photography, but I never really considered it as a career until about two years ago. I actually went to university to study accounting."

"Accounting? Wow, so you're a math wiz?"

"Hardly," I giggled. "It was what my dad wanted me to do to guarantee myself a solid career, but I hated it. I flunked out within a year. I'm not entirely sure that my dad has ever forgiven me for it, he was really disappointed in me."

"But surely he just wants you to be happy, whatever job you have..."

"You would think so," I shrugged. "Doesn't feel like it all the time though. He's very against the whole starving artist thing. He's not a bad person, but he's very practical and just can't understand how suffocating an office job would be for someone who likes to be creative. I get the impression that just being around me these days exasperates him."

I felt another blush cover my cheeks as I realized I was over-sharing. It could easily be blamed on the alcohol, but Chris was a good listener and I found him very easy to talk to.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "That was more information than you probably needed."

"You don't need to apologize so much," Chris assured me. "I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't want to hear the answer."

"Sor-" I paused. "Bad habit, I guess."

Chris squeezed my arm and shot me a reassuring smile before getting our conversation back on track.

"So, what made you persevere with photography in the end?"

"I just really enjoy doing it. I love capturing those unexpected moments, like the awkward laughter in between poses, the moments when people have their guard down and don't realize how beautiful they look. Then, when I get to share the photos I've taken with people and they see themselves in a different way, the joy it brings them makes it worth any financial struggles." As I finished my explanation, a thought struck me. "I actually got some good ones today, just on my phone when you guys first came in, not doing the planned and posed stuff."

They'd all been so excited to see each other even though it was just a few short weeks since they'd wrapped the film. It was sweet and I hadn't been able to resist capturing their reunion.

"Really? Could I see them?"

"If you give me your phone number, I can send them to you," I smiled up at him. "That would actually be helpful. They're obviously different than the ones I took for the actual shoot, but you can tell me if they're any good or if you think I just got the job because of my connections."

I reached into my bag and handed my phone to Chris so he could type in his number which he did before shooting me a skeptical glance.

"Do you really think your connection to Robert is the only reason you got the job?"

"Well, it was all so last minute. I can't help, but assume it's a mix of desperation and some pulled strings," I admitted. "But I know this is my one shot. Robert really believes in people making their own way in life so if I totally blow this opportunity, I know he won't fight for them to have me back again and I wouldn't want him to."

We turned another corner, taking us just a few blocks from my apartment building as Chris answered.

"I'm sure he wouldn't have gotten you the job if there was any chance that he thought you would fail," Chris assured me. "But he is a good person to have in your corner. I probably wouldn't have taken the Captain America gig at all if it wasn't for him convincing me I could do it. He can be very persuasive."

I smiled at that information. I knew my uncle didn't like to take no for an answer so I could imagine how that conversation went.

"He can be very encouraging when he needs to be," I agreed. "Even if that encouragement sometimes comes out in the form of publicly shaming someone for their taste in men."

Chris let out another deep laugh and shook his head.

"C'mon, you gotta admit you deserved that."

"I did not!"

"He took you to Hooters and you didn't run away as fast as possible," Chris reminded me as if I could have forgotten such an embarrassing decision. "If that's not deserving of some public shaming then I don't know what is."

"Dating is hard these days," I huffed. "Maybe it would be easier if I had giant muscles like you, but it's hard to meet people."

"I think having muscles the size of mine would actually make you less hot."

I couldn't bite back the giggle that slipped from my lips as I looked up at him with a questioning raise of my eyebrows.

"Less hot?" I asked. "That would imply that you think I'm hot now."

"I do," Chris smirked confidently. "I think you're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words instantly made my cheeks heat up again. I'd baited him into the compliment, but I didn't expect his blunt and honest answer. I was stunned into a momentary silence that only made Chris' smirk grow wider until I giggled once again.

"You're just drunk."

"I am not," Chris chuckled. "Well, maybe a little, but that doesn't change the facts."

There was a grin on my face and I felt like a little schoolgirl with a crush. Chris Evans just called me gorgeous. Any woman who said they didn't swoon in that situation was probably lying.

"That's very sweet of you to say," I told him, trying to play it cool. "You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself."

Chris squeezed my arm again as he flashed me a smile.

My apartment building was in sight now, just half a block away, and I was disappointed that our evening was about to end.

I was comfortable with Chris. He was nice and easy to talk to and I'd had more fun and laughs with him in the last few hours than I'd had throughout most of my last relationship. But despite our harmless flirting, I knew he was too good for me. I knew that I didn't stand a chance with him and that when the alcohol wore off and the sun came up, he would see that. As much as I wasn't ready to say goodbye, I could hardly keep us walking in circles around the block without him noticing so I reluctantly slowed to a stop outside my building.

"This is me..."

Chris looked up and nodded slowly.

"It doesn't look so bad."

"Because it's not!" I insisted. "Honestly, this isn't that bad of a neighbourhood."

"Well, it's not that great either, Whitney."

Another giggle slipped from my lips as I pulled my keys out of my purse, reluctantly slipping my arm from his.

"Your accent makes my name sound funny," I teased. "You don't say Whitney, you say Win-ney."

Chris laughed, but shook his head.

"Now who's drunk."

"Oh, definitely me," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"Okay, Winnie, whatever you say."

He said my name wrong on purpose that time, but there was something about it that put a smile on my face. Emboldened by the alcohol and by his flirtatious nature, I decided to take a chance.

"Do you want to come up for a bit?" I asked. "One last drink maybe?"

Chris hesitated, but after a moment of thought, he shook his head.

"Nah, I should probably get home. I think I've had enough drinks for tonight." His solid reasoning eased the blow of rejection slightly, but it still burned me up inside. "Thanks for the invite though, maybe I'll take you up on that offer another time."

"Sure," I nodded, hoping I was masking my disappointment. "That would be nice."

"Great," he grinned before pulling me into a hug. "It was nice to meet you, Winnie. I have a feeling that we're going to be good friends."

Friends.

Good friends.

His words echoed in my head as I agreed and slipped out of his grasp. We said our goodbyes, I thanked him for escorting me home and I watched as he walked back down the street before I went inside.

Friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S.

At least he'd made himself clear and subtly let me down easy before I had chance to form any wrong ideas about what our relationship was or could be. It hurt and I would be lying if I said it didn't feel a bit like a stab in the heart, but I was glad that he'd put me in my place before I made a fool of myself by making a move.

I knew I'd been getting ahead of myself anyway. I knew he was way out of my league, but he'd called me gorgeous and walked me home. He'd even given me a nickname. Maybe I'm just easy to impress, but it felt like he was interested. I guess being a big star in Hollywood requires a certain level of charm though and he was probably just used to being naturally flirtatious with most of the women he encounters.

I sighed as I let myself into my apartment and tossed my bag on the table by the door. I'd felt like the luckiest girl in the world only moments earlier and now I was back to feeling like I was a romantic lost cause. I dragged myself through the motions of getting ready for bed and flopped down on top of the blankets - it was too hot to be under them and I didn't have the luxury of air conditioning.

Perhaps it was for the best that Chris declined my invitation to come upstairs, I thought to myself. This apartment was hardly up to Hollywood standards, it was hardly up to my own standards even if it was all that I could afford.

As my head laid on the pillow and my heart sat heavy in my chest, I told myself that it was fine. If Chris wanted to just be friends then I would be grateful that he even wanted that. I made a mental note to send him those pictures in the morning - because I'd promised to and not because I was curious to see what kind of response I would get when he was sober - and fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of my new friend.

---

July 2016

And so, we were friends. Good friends, maybe even great friends.

I sent Chris the photos he’d asked for the day after we met and we spent most of that day messaging back and forth. Our friendship only grew from there and, whenever he was in town, we spent as much time together as we possibly could.

But we kept things very much friendly.

There was some flirtatious exchanges, but I respected his wishes and kept the feelings that I'd developed to myself.

My career really took off in the year after we met as well. That first Marvel photo shoot had gone incredibly well which led to several more contracts with them as well as other high profile jobs. It was a long, busy year, but I was grateful and relished in my success.

I'd even managed to move into a new apartment in a much nicer neighbourhood which felt like quite a big achievement and had finally silenced Chris' fretting about my safety. I moved in May, but our busy schedules kept him from seeing my upgraded home for himself until that summer, almost a year after we met. He was returning to L.A. from a trip home to Massachusetts and we hadn't seen each other in months so I was very eager for our reunion. Despite the fact that were still in constant communication, I'd missed him terribly and had been counting down the minutes until he would be arriving at my place.

"So," My friend's voiced echoed through my phone from where it sat on the bathroom counter while I finished curling my hair into beachy waves. "Are you going to finally make a move tonight?"

"No," I scoffed. "Of course not, Hannah. I've not seen him in a while now, I want us to have a good time. I don't want to make him uncomfortable and ruin everything."

"I will bet you a thousand dollars that it wouldn't ruin everything," she insisted. "Honestly, I will give you a thousand dollars if you make a move tonight and it goes badly."

I rolled my eyes as I finished the last curly wave and reached for my hairspray.

"You can't put a price on my friendship with Chris."

"Oh my god," she groaned. "He's told you that he thinks you're gorgeous, he makes time to hang out with you whenever he can and he texts you every single day. He treats you better than any boyfriend you've ever had. How can you think he doesn't have feelings for you?"

I took a moment to spray my hair and give myself one last look over before taking her off speaker and answering the question as I walked towards my kitchen.

"Because he straight up told me that he wants to be friends," I reminded her. "And he's never given me any other signs that he's interested in anything more."

"He doesn't need to give you any signs. When someone looks at you the way that he looks at you that says enough."

"Well, I'm going to need him to say a little more."

Another groan came through the phone as the buzzer to my apartment rang.

"You're impossible."

"I know, I know, and my lack of self-esteem will make me die alone," I said, repeating the words she'd told me a hundred times. "But he's here now, so you're going to have to save your criticisms for another time."

"Just tell him how you feel," she huffed. "I expect a full report in the morning."

The buzzer rang again as I agreed and said my goodbyes to my friend. I took a deep breath and a moment to push Hannah's words from my mind before pressing the button on the intercom.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Win, it's me! Let me up."

I pressed the button to unlock the door and felt my lips slide into a cheek aching grin just from the sound of his voice. It had been too long since we'd had a chance to hang out and I was very much looking forward to a nice evening together.

It took him barely a minute to get up to my apartment, knocking twice before letting himself in.

"Hey!" I grinned, rushing towards him as he held his arms open. I threw mine around him as soon as I was close enough and squeezed him tightly. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too," he smiled. "Nice place you got here, someone's doing well for themselves."

"Oh, please," I giggled, slipping out of his arms. "I've seen your house, Mr. Evans. This is a dump compared to where you live."

"Nah, this place is great!"

"It's definitely an improvement," I admitted as I led him towards the kitchen. "Would you like a drink? I bought that beer you like."

"You didn't have to do that. I would have been fine with whatever you have in," he chided me, but I waved him off and assured him it was fine. "What's the plan for tonight anyway?"

I shrugged as I opened the fridge to get a beer out for him and a bottle of wine for myself.

"I don't mind. Do you want to go out for drinks later or just stay here? It is a Saturday so everywhere around here will be packed with women in their early twenties if you'd like your ego stroked a bit."

I was referring to the last time we'd gone out and made the mistake of going to a bar that turned out to be pretty unfriendly to celebrities. A lot of places in L.A. made it easy for celebrities to go under the radar, but the place we'd gone to apparently wasn't one of them. There was a steady stream of beautiful young women trying their luck with Chris all night until we eventually fled and went back to his place just to give him some peace.

Chris laughed, clearly understanding what I was referencing, but he shook his head.

"Honestly? I'd prefer to stay in tonight," he admitted, but a smirk slid onto his face as he very obviously gave me a once over. "But you got all dressed up and it would be a shame to waste an outfit like that on a night in."

"Oh, this old thing?" I glanced down at the short black sundress I was wearing, a blush covering my cheeks from his compliment. "I just put this on in case we did decide to go out, but staying in sounds good to me. I'm well stocked with supplies."

I gestured to the wine and beer on the counter and the few bottles of hard liquor behind them.

"Then we'll stay in?"

"Sure," I nodded as a thought hit me and I gasped with excitement. "Oh, we can sit on my balcony! It over looks the park and I just got a new little couch for it."

"Very fancy," Chris laughed. "You really are doing well for yourself."

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes. "I don’t think Ikea patio furniture is a particularly high aspiration for anyone."

"Don't sell yourself short! You're finally getting recognition for your talent and that's worth celebrating."

I smiled as I led him through the living room and opened the door to my balcony with a flourish. The heat of July in California hit us immediately, but the balcony was shaded which made it a more reasonable temperature.

"This is nice," Chris nodded approvingly. "Well done, Winnie."

He sat on the couch and held his beer up towards me. I gently clinked my glass against it before sitting next to him. I thanked him once I was settled, hiding the width of my grin with my glass as I took a sip.

"So, how was Massachusetts?" I asked, curling my feet underneath me. "Do you have much more time off or are you back at it pretty quick?"

"I've actually got some time off," Chris informed me. "I think I'll probably spend most of it back home. It was great being there the last few weeks. It just feels better than L.A."

"Most places probably feel better than L.A.," I pointed out with a scoff. "This place is exhausting."

"You should come visit some time," Chris suggested before flashing me a smirk. "I feel bad leaving you here when I'm clearly your only friend."

"Excuse me, that is not true!" I protested, my jaw dropping at his insult as he chuckled at his own joke. "I have plenty of friends, thank you very much. All those liquor bottles on the counter are leftover from my very crowded house-warming party."

"Oh, no, Winnie," he laughed, his hand coming up to his chest. "Don't try and provide evidence that you have friends. That makes you seem even more pathetic."

"More pathetic than what? I have friends!"

"Imaginary ones don't count."

I couldn't help, but laugh at that insult as I shook my head.

"You're so rude. I don't know why I put up with you."

"Because you have no one else." He shot me a very over the top look of pity until I swatted his arm and he dissolved into laughter again. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. Seriously though, you should come out to Massachusetts sometime. I'll show you around."

"That would be fun," I agreed. "I'm pretty busy with work over the summer, but I think I'm in New York for a shoot in September. I could maybe tie a trip in with that if you're still out there."

"I should be if nothing else comes up," Chris nodded. "And fall is a great time to come. It's gorgeous."

"I bet. It would be nice to experience a season instead of just this sweltering L.A. heat all the time."

I made a face to emphasize my point as I sipped my drink and Chris eyed me suspiciously.

"I can't help, but get the impression that you're not loving it here at the moment..."

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Not really. I thought moving into a better apartment would help, but I'm just kinda tired of it, I guess."

"It can be draining here," he nodded. "Have you thought about moving somewhere else?"

I sighed and shook my head.

"Not really. I'd miss my family too much. I'd have to have a good reason, I think, or know someone wherever I was going."

"Well, you'll always know someone in Massachusetts," he smiled. "And my Ma would love you. I'm sure she'd take you in right away."

"Awe, Mama Evans. I'd love to meet her...Mostly so I could demand an apology for her part in raising such a horrible man."

Chris threw his head back with another chest grab worthy laugh.

"Oh man, I know. My brother is pretty awful."

I snorted a laugh at his comeback, but shook my head.

"Scott was delightful the few times I met him," I informed him. "I was clearly talking about you."

"Me?!" He gasped dramatically. "What are you talking about? I'm a total gentleman."

"Imaginary friends don't count," I repeated his words back to him in a very bad impression of his deep voice and Boston accent. "Yeah, you're such a gentleman."

"It's called a joke, Winnie," he teased. "Try having a sense of humour."

I stuck my tongue out at him in response, but I had to admit that the teasing was nice. I really had missed him while he was away and I was relieved that we fell back together so naturally that it was like we'd never been apart.

Our conversation continued to flow well into the night and so did our drinks. A few hours later and several alcoholic beverages down, the temperature was starting to drop a bit as the sun set, but our conversation was just starting to heat up.

"So," Chris turned to me with a smirk as he sipped the tequila sunrise I'd just made for him. He'd sworn he wouldn't like it, that it would be too sweet, but apparently he was too tipsy to really care. "How's your love life these days? Any more trips to Hooters?"

I snorted a laugh as I shook my head.

"I need more alcohol if we're going to delve into my love life."

Mostly because the biggest detriment to my romantic life was currently sitting on the couch with me, but I wasn't going to volunteer that information. Chris nudged the bottom of the glass in my hand, gently enough not to spill any but firmly enough to lift it slightly.

"Drink up then because I'm curious. Especially after a statement like that."

The irony of someone who was very vocal about how much they hated being constantly interrogated and harassed about their love life trying to do that exact thing to me wasn't lost on me, but I knew he'd keep pestering me until I opened up. I did as Chris suggested and took a large swig of my drink before answering him.

"No, there hasn't been any more dates at Hooters lately," I assured him. "But I did go on a date last week that was disappointing in it's own way."

Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? How so?"

"He turned out to be a Robert Downey Jr. fanboy," I admitted, rolling my eyes as Chris let out a laugh. "It was going well until I made the mistake of mentioning that he's my uncle. He wouldn't shut up about him - stop laughing! - It was awful. Honestly, he went on and on! I eventually asked him if he'd rather be on a date with my uncle than me."

"And what did he say?"

I scowled at the memory.

"He said yes and asked for his number." That admission drew another howl of laughter from Chris and I couldn't help, but giggle along with him despite my shaking head. "Honestly, Chris, it's not funny. I have the worst luck."

"You have the worst taste in men." He corrected and I wondered briefly if he'd be less confident in that statement if he knew that he was my taste, even more so when he continued. "You're only interested in the douchey guys and then you're always shocked when they act like assholes."

"That is so not true!" I protested. "How am I supposed to know they're going to be douche bags? We talk for like two days on a dating app before we meet up and they always seem normal!"

"What was this one's job?"

I cringed and took another big swig of my drink.

"A club promoter."

"Exactly!" Chris groaned. "And hadn't the one before him quit his job to try and get famous on YouTube?"

"Instagram," I corrected. "But, so what? I struggled for a long time before my career went anywhere. You can't judge people by something like that."

"For the most part, I agree with you," Chris nodded. "But there are some careers that only attract a certain kind of person."

I huffed at his logic, but there was some truth to what he was saying.

"Dating is just hard these days," I insisted. "Besides, from what I've seen online lately, you're one to talk about messy relationships."

Now it was Chris' turn to take a gulp of the drink in his hand as he raised an eyebrow at my claim.

"Everything you read about me is bullshit, you know that. I haven't dated anyone lately, people just like to make things up."

"Oh, what I was reading the other day wasn't really about who you were dating."

That got his attention as he shot me a surprised look.

"What was it about then?"

"I thought it was all bullshit?" I smirked. "Does it matter what it was if it's not true?"

Chris shrugged.

"Even if it's not true, I like to know what people are saying about me."

"And you don't have a team to provide you with that information?"

"I do," he nodded. "But they don't tell me everything so I'd love to know what you read."

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling shy about disclosing what I'd seen. I took a moment to figure out how to say it before telling him.

"I stumbled across an article that claimed an anonymous source, who recently spent the night with you, told them that you are not particularly skilled at going down on a woman."

Chris' jaw dropped and I couldn't help, but laugh again at the outrage on his face.

"That's fuckin' bullshit!" He protested. "Why would anyone believe an anonymous source? It's obviously not true! Why would they even write that?"

I smirked again as I tried to hold back the laughter bubbling up inside me. Of course, I didn't believe an anonymous source and I felt bad for Chris that mean rumours like that were being spread around the internet, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to tease him about it anyway.

"I don't know. She must have had some kind of proof, they wouldn't have published it without fact checking."

"They absolutely would!" Chris laughed incredulously. "They publish anything that gets clicks!"

I shrugged and tried to stifle the giggles still fighting to come out.

"It seemed pretty believable to me. I'm not trying to be mean, but maybe just take the criticism and use it to grow."

"I don't need to use it to grow!" He insisted. "I have plenty of skills in that area, I've never had any complaints."

"Until now."

"It's not true!"

"Unfortunately, I'll never know..."

I froze, hearing my words echo through my head as Chris' eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before a twinkle appeared. It was a simple statement, but we both picked up on what it implied, especially with the hint of intrigue, almost challenge, in my voice.

Chris tossed back the last of his drink and then shifted, sitting up a bit straighter as the look of annoyance on his face had changed into something almost cocky. I took a sip of my own drink, hoping to drown the nerves that were bubbling in my stomach as the cool evening breeze suddenly did nothing to ease the heat that surrounded us.

"Well, how am I suppose to prove it to you?"

He moved his hand until it was resting on my knee and I had to stifle a gasp at the sensation. We were fairly affectionate and much more touchy with each other than many friends were, but this felt different. There was a tension between us now and I swallowed hard, not wanting the alcohol in my system to make me misinterpret anything.

"I don't know." I bit my lip as he stared me down, a smirk back on his face now. "Why don't you de-describe it?"

Demonstrate.

Demonstrate was the word that I was looking for, the word that was on the tip of my tongue.

Describe was not quite as flirtatious. It was like I'd just set him some kind of essay assignment. I cringed, but Chris was unfazed as he chuckled and nodded his head.

"Alright," he shrugged. "Where should I start?"

Before I even had time to answer, he began his explanation.

His voice was low as he spoke, sparing no detail. He described every kiss, every touch and every little tease. By the time he was describing how much he liked to watch whoever was he was pleasuring, looking up from where his face was buried to see her orgasm roll through her body, I was almost shamelessly panting. His hand was still on my leg, stroking higher and higher on my thigh and I felt more aroused from his words than I had from the last few sexual encounters that I'd had.

He was watching me when he finished speaking, a smirk on his face and his eyes narrowed in a seductive stare as I took a shaky breath.

It was now or never.

Tossing back the last of my drink, I put my glass on the table. Then, I took the glass in his hand and did the same.

He was watching me the whole time, meeting my eyes as I sat back on the couch. My mind was running a mile a minute as the gravity of the situation hit me, but I tried to push all thoughts of doubt from my head as I bit my bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes flicked down to watch the movement and that was all the confirmation I needed.

I darted forward fast enough that I wouldn't have time to change my mind and pressed my lips against his.

There was a brief moment when he froze. I felt his hand tense on my thigh and his body seemed more rigid than it had moments ago, but he recovered quickly and a low growl came from his throat before his hands moved to my waist and effortlessly lifted me into his lap.

I gasped at the movement, momentarily taking my lips away from his, but before I could even mumble out any comments on his strength, he'd pressed our lips together again.

It was a sloppy kiss. Spurred on by our mounting tension and the panic bubbling inside me that any minute now he would change his mind and push me away in disgust, our movements were frantic and desperate. My hands slid around his neck, one moving up to the back of his head as if I needed to hold him in place, but his fingers digging into my waist made me think that he was having the same thought.

Eventually though, the need for air forced us apart and I rested my forehead against his as we fought to catch our breath. The pause in our actions gave my brain time to catch up to my body and I immediately felt the nerves kick in.

Logically, I knew we should slow things down and talk about what this meant. My feelings for Chris went deeper than a drunken hook up and I was setting myself up for heartbreak if he wasn't on the same page. However, there was a more impulsive part of my brain that didn't care. I'd wanted this for so long, surely I deserved a chance to just enjoy it.

As if Chris could read my mind, his deep voice cut through my thoughts.

"Are we really doing this?"

I bit my lip, knowing this was the time to voice any concerns that I had, but as I stared into his eyes, I couldn't make myself jeopardize the moment.

"Yes," I nodded. "I'm in if you are?"

A smirk slid onto Chris' face as he nodded as well.

"I've been waiting almost a whole fuckin' year for this," he admitted. "I'm absolutely in."

I felt my heart flutter at his confession. If he'd been waiting for this as long as I had then that must have meant that we were on the same page. No one waits that long for a meaningless fuck, he would have made a move by now if there wasn't more to it.

In an effort to silence my overactive brain, I pressed my lips back against his which proved to be the perfect distraction. All worries and cares slipped from my mind as his tongue slipped back into my mouth and his hands drifted down to cup my ass. I could practically feel them burning through my thin dress and as they squeezed slightly, pressing my hips closer towards his, I could tell that my panties were already much damper than was probably reasonable.

But the anticipation was practically killing me.

My body felt like it was on fire as every brush of his tongue, every caress of my skin, every sigh that fell from his lips against my mouth, had me writing against him like a cat in heat. Often, when I'd imagined what this moment would be like, I'd assumed it would be slow - we'd take our time and savour every touch - but I hadn't factored in just how desperate we'd both be or how quickly I would be filled with the absolute need for there to be less layers of fabric between us.

Chris sucked in a deep breath as his lips moved from mine, sliding lower to kiss along my jaw. I could feel a bulge growing between us, telling me that he was as overeager as I was so, as shivers tingled down my spine from the trail his mouth was taking, I fought through the distractions to speak.

"Chris," I panted. "Let's go inside."

His lips paused their movement as he nuzzled into my neck.

"Not much of an exhibitionist?"

"Not on the first date."

My words were teasing and a shrug of my shoulders accompanied my response, earning a chuckle from Chris.

"Alright, that's fair."

I nudged his head away from my skin so I could press another soft kiss to his lips.

My intention was to then climb off of his lap and lead him into my apartment, but he had other ideas as his hands slid under my thighs and his grip tightened. With one smooth motion and an impressive show of strength, he stood from the couch and lifted me up with him. I gasped and rushed to wrap my legs around his waist for stability, but the smirk on his face and the bulge of his bicep told me that it probably wasn't necessary. He was incredibly strong and it sent another flush of arousal through me at the thought of the beautifully sculpted physique under his clothes.

"Are you bulking up for Cap again?"

I mumbled the words in an attempt to keep my mind busy and stop myself before I started rubbing myself against his stomach. With the way my legs were positioned there was merely a shirt and my panties between us and it was entirely too tempting.

"Nah, got a month or two before that starts again," he informed me, quirking an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

I pointed him towards the door of my bedroom before answering as I tried to keep the shock out of my voice.

"So, you're like, always this strong?"

Chris chuckled slightly as he kicked my bedroom door open.

"Well, I'm no club promoter," he teased. "But I do tend to stay at a certain level of fitness for when the job does require it."

My jaw dropped at his audacity to bring that up again at a moment like this, but I couldn't stop the snort of laughter that slipped out.

"Shut up," I demanded, letting my thumb stroke against the soft skin on the back of his neck. "Before I come to my senses and ask you to leave."

Now it was Chris' turn to laugh as he gently tossed me onto the bed before crawling over me like a lion stalking it's prey.

"C'mon," he smirked as he hovered over me. "I think we both know that the last thing you want me to do right now is leave."

With that, he pressed his lips back against mine before I had chance to argue. Not that I would have, because he was absolutely right. There was a long list of things I wanted him to do, but leaving was not one of them. In fact, as I let my arms slid over his toned shoulders, I pulled him even closer.

I couldn't get enough of him. I wanted to hear every little grunt and moan, I wanted to feel every inch of his body against mine, I wanted to see his muscles quiver and twitch with pleasure, I wanted him inside me and we'd barely even started. A year of waiting would make anyone desperate and, as much as I was revelling in his talented mouth as it moved against my own, I was eager to see what else he could do with it.

Sliding my hands down along his back, I ran them over his waist until they were at the hem of his shirt and, in an attempt to move things along, I slid them back up over his stomach, bringing his shirt with them. I paused, taking a moment to trace over his abs and he chuckled, moving his lips down to nuzzle them into my neck.

"That tickles," he mumbled against my skin as I smiled.

"Sorry, I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact that these muscles are real."

"They are," he smiled up at me. "Are you impressed?"

"Maybe a little," I admitted with a smile of my own. "I'll be more impressed if you get these clothes out of the way and let me admire you properly."

He chuckled again, but didn't fight as I pulled his shirt over his head. The light in the room was dim and the way we were positioned didn't give me an optimal view, but what I could see was enough to draw a soft gasp from my lips.

I'd seen him shirtless and in even less from a few sneaky Google searches and watching his old movies, but seeing it all right in front of me was quite a treat. I had to double check that I wasn't drooling at the sight as I openly stared, my mouth slightly agape.

I realized I was probably ogling him a little too long when a faint blush covered his cheeks and he ducked his head back against my neck. He placed another soft kiss against my skin before he spoke.

"Now, it's your turn."

"Okay," I agreed, swallowing hard. "But just keep in mind that I don't look like that."

I ran my hands up and down his sides to emphasize what I was referring to and I felt more than heard him chuckle as he peered up at me once more.

"I'd be disappointed if we had the same upper body," he teased. "I mean, if I'm being honest."

I rolled my eyes despite the smile on my face.

"You know what I mean," I insisted. "I'm not sculpted by the Gods like you are."

His head fell back against my shoulder as he shook with laughter before shaking his head.

"You have nothing to worry about," he assured me. "You're too hard on yourself. You're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words took me back to the first night we met as the sincerity in his voice was the same as it had been back then. And there was something about the confidence with which he spoke that had me believing him.

So, as his hands slid under my dress - teasing the outside of my thighs in a way that had me biting my lip to force back a moan - I pushed any negative thoughts or doubts about myself from my mind. I even felt a hint of pride when my dress was discarded, exposing my lack of bra, and making Chris' eyes darken as they scoured over my body.

"Fuck, Winnie," he groaned as he soaked in the sight of my exposed chest. "You're beautiful."

I felt my heart flutter at the genuine awe in his voice and at his word choice. Gorgeous, hot, sexy - those are all compliments I would have loved to receive from him, but beautiful. It seemed deeper, more romantic. There was a brief reminder from the voice in my head that perhaps the importance of such a simple word was a signal I shouldn't be moving forward with this without having a very serious conversation about feelings first, but I was quick to ignore it as I pulled Chris back to my lips.

It seemed he was as desperate to move things along as I was though as his mouth didn't linger against mine for very long before it was trailing a path down my neck. He paused when he got to my chest, letting out a groan as he nuzzled the skin before sucking it just hard enough to leave a faint mark when he moved back. The sight had me squirming beneath him and he shot me a smirk before moving his lips to my nipple.

Gasping at the sensation, I arched up towards him as he continued to nip and tease me. If his current actions were anything to go by then whoever wrote the article that I read was very sorely mistaken. He appeared to be incredibly talented with his mouth and by the time he moved away from my nipple to continue his path down my body, my chest was heaving and I was sure that I was just one gentle touch away from my peak.

However, I was disappointed when he got to the top of my panties and, after licking along the skin of my lower stomach, pushed himself up and moved off of me to stand at the foot of my bed. I whined in protest, wanting him as close to me as possible, but all I got was a smirk in response.

"Patience," he mumbled as he unbuttoned his jeans.

I wanted to pout, to argue that I'd been patient enough in the last year, but any complaints died on my tongue as he pushed his jeans to the floor. As he stood in front of me, only in his underwear, my sense of urgency was replaced by an appreciation for the chance to admire his chiselled body. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better view and he chuckled at the look of wonder that I was sure was on my face.

His underwear was the next thing to go and the anticipation turned quickly to shock as my jaw dropped at what he revealed. I could have assumed from the large bulge that he was quite well-endowed, but seeing it confirmed sent a whole new flush of arousal through me. I mumbled out a 'wow' as I bit my lip and tried to take it all in - he truly was a gorgeous man.

"Like what you see?"

His question snapped me out of my daze as he knelt back down on the end of the bed.

"Very much so," I nodded, desperate to feel his body over mine once again. "Come back up here."

"No," Chris grinned as he ducked down to place a kiss on my ankle. "Not yet."

Again, part of me wanted to argue and demand that he return his mouth to mine and get things moving, but before I could even open my mouth, he made his intentions clear - by tracing his fingers up my leg with his lips close behind.

I was quivering under his touch, still leaning up on my elbows when he reached the edge of the panties I was wearing. He glanced up at me as he licked along the lace before he bit into the material and tugged. I lifted my hips to ease his struggle as he yanked my panties down my legs with his teeth. The sight of it had me squeezing my thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction, but as soon as my underwear joined the rest of our clothes on the floor, he was quick to pull my legs apart again.

"Keep 'em open for me," he demanded, that damn smirk still firmly on his face. "I've got something to prove."

I giggled at that statement, but did as he asked. I was still watching his movements, until he dipped his head forehead and pressed his lips against me. That first moment of contact was enough to have my head flopping back against the pillows as my hands shot down to grip his hair. I was vaguely aware of him mumbling something about how wet I was, but my brain was too busy trying to process the pleasure he was giving me to take in his words.

He wasted no time demonstrating everything that he'd described to me earlier that night. His tongue was focused and precise in its movements and, contrary to what I read, he clearly knew what he was doing as he easily narrowed in on my clit. It wasn't enough though. I needed more pressure, more friction, and I pushed up towards him with a moan on my lips to urge him on. He wasn't having any of that as his hands looped under my thighs to settle on my hips, holding me in place, but he increased the pressure as he apparently understood what I needed despite my lack of ability to verbalize it.

I immediately felt a familiar feeling starting to build.

He sucked and licked with an urgency that I very much appreciated, flicking his tongue in just the right spot at just the right speed to have me trembling beneath him. I managed to gasp out a warning 'oh god' as my hands gripped his hair even tighter and I fell apart into a puddle of whimpers and moans. My orgasm hit me more fiercely than I'd imagined in my wildest fantasies of this moment and I arched up against him, his name pouring from my lips like a chant as he continued his efforts with a low groan of his own only adding to my pleasure.

As my breathing started to slow, Chris gently ceased his movements and moved his head back before resting his chin on my thigh. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at me.

"Well?"

"I'm going to write my own article," I told him, feeling that wonderful post peak bliss wash over me. "Because someone was obviously very misinformed."

Chris chuckled before pulling his hands from my hips to plant them on the bed and drag himself back over me.

"I'm glad I exceeded expectations."

"Mhmm," I hummed in agreement as his lips hovered above mine. "Now, let's see what else you can do."

Chris flashed me a smile and kissed me briefly before leaning back just enough to reach down and take his cock in his hand. Another moan fell from my lips as he rubbed it against me for a moment before nudging against my entrance and finally pressing inside. He moved slowly, but even so, I winced at the sensation. The slight burn as I stretched around him felt good but there was an undeniable ache as well. Sensing my hesitation, Chris paused and dropped his head for another soft kiss. I waited a moment, until the initial spark of discomfort had passed before pressing my hips up towards him.

He took the hint and continued his slow, almost torturous, movement until he was fully inside. The burning pain returned as it felt like he was taking up every inch of space I had to offer, but it felt incredible.

"Fuck," he breathed against my neck where his head had settled again. "You're tight..."

He shifted his hips pulling another gasp from my lips.

"Only because you're huge."

I felt a puff of laughter before he nipped at my shoulder.

"Thank you."

I would have smacked him for his cocky tone, but he moved then and suddenly my mind was blank of anything other than how good it felt. His movements were slow at first, every thrust dragging every inch of him against every nerve inside me, but his restraint quickly waned as his pace increased.

I let out a moan as my head fell back against the pillows and I hitched my leg higher on his hip. He moved his hand to the back of my thigh to hold it in place as he built a steady rhythm that had us both panting as I fought to match his thrusts. My fingers dug into his shoulders as his short beard rubbed against my skin.

The sensations were overwhelming. It was like he was completely encompassing me, smothering all of my senses and I could feel the pressure building again in the pit of my stomach in a way that it all felt like too much, but not enough all at the same time. I clenched around him, earning a groan of approval from Chris as I swore I could feel him twitch inside me. The pleasure was building quickly and his thrusts got sloppier and more frantic until suddenly he pulled out of me completely.

I felt empty and immediately wanted him back inside of me, my disappointment only growing as he pushed himself up to kneel back on his heels. The only compensation was how good he looked, muscles tight and his cock hard, practically throbbing and shiny from my being drenched in my wetness.

"Turn over," he instructed, his raspy voice bringing me back to the task at hand.

It took a moment for me to process his words, but I giggled as soon as I did.

"What?" He asked, a smile on his face.

"Nothing," I laughed again as I pushed myself up to do as he asked. "You just really are 'clearly' an ass man."

A look of realization crossed his face as he cringed slightly, his hand pausing from where he had reached down to stroke himself. I settled on my knees with my back to him as he answered.

"You heard about that?"

He was referring to the comments that he made on Anna Faris' podcast and I nodded my head.

"Everyone heard about that," I teased.

He chuckled, but didn't deny it as I leaned forward to rest on my hands. The wetness between my legs felt cool from the air in the room and I suddenly felt very exposed, knowing what the view must look like from his position. Again, my worries were brief though as his hands settled on my ass, kneading and squeezing as he let out a low groan.

"With an ass like this though, can you blame me?" He asked, sliding the fingers of one hand down towards the part of me that was practically throbbing with need. My head fell forward as he gently brushed over my clit before sinking two fingers inside me. It wasn't enough, not after the stretch of his cock, but he moved them with almost criminal precision against a spot that made me tense as I moaned with pleasure. "You've been drivin' me wild ever since that night we met. Those black jeans were so tight, it was like you were poured into 'em."

His words were muttered low and quiet and as much as I appreciated the compliment, I was such a puddle of mush from the movement of his fingers that I couldn't string together a sentence in response. He kept talking, whispering words of encouragement and adoration and it only added to my pleasure, but it wasn't until his thumb pressed against my clit that I felt myself start to bubble over. With a cry that I hoped served as a warning of my impending climax, I arched my back to press myself further towards him.

"Atta girl, Winnie..."

His breath was hot against the cheek of my ass and he continued his actions, placing a soft kiss on my skin. I was close, so close, but just not quite there until he did something that surprised me and sank his teeth into the spot his mouth was resting on. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but it was enough to leave a mark and it was definitely enough to send me over the edge. Moaning out his name again as I pressed back towards him, I felt myself quivering around his fingers as the pleasure tore through my body.

My elbows were quaking with effort as they tried to hold me up while he kept his fingers gently working until my orgasm came to an end. I wasn't sure how much more I could take, but I knew I wanted him inside me again so I shot him a look over my shoulder.

"Chris," I panted. "Fuck me, please."

His eyes darkened at my request, but he wasted no time, quickly shifting until he was positioned behind me and sliding himself back inside. He felt even bigger in our new position and his need was made clear as his hands settled on my hips to use them as leverage, thrusting into me at a much more frantic pace than he had before.

The stretch and feel of him deep inside me had me moaning and arching my back once again, but I was doubtful that I would reach another peak - until Chris slid one of his hands from my hip, over my stomach and back down to my clit. The sensation combined with his movements and all the noises pouring from his mouth had a tightness in my stomach forming again with shocking speed. It was just shy of overwhelming as my two previous orgasms had left me feeling rather sensitive already, but when Chris picked up the pace even more, his grunts and groans getting more desperate, I leaned into the sensation. It only took a minute or two more before he finally pressed himself deep inside me, stilling as he let out a low moan and I followed him over the edge once more.

After a few final thrusts through his release, Chris leaned forward to press his chest against my back. I could feel how hard he was breathing and soaked in the moment of bliss until my arms finally gave out underneath me. We landed in a heap face down on the bed, but Chris quickly rolled off of me before pulling me tight against his side.

"Wow," he breathed out. "Winnie, that was...wow."

I smiled as I rested my head on his chest.

"It was," I agreed. "I take back any doubts about your abilities."

He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.

"Thanks," he smiled as I peered up at him until he let a yawn slip out. "Mind if I stay here tonight?"

His question made my own smile widen even more.

"Of course not!"

He breathed out a sigh of relief at my words as I felt a wave of reassurance myself. He wanted to stay. He wasn't about to rush out the door the moment we were done and I filed that information away as more evidence that we were on the same page.

I felt like I should get up - to use the bathroom and offer my guest some water - but our activities had my whole body feeling like jelly. I was vaguely aware of a mumbled 'goodnight' from Chris, but I found myself drifting off to sleep before I could even respond.

The next morning as I slowly woke up, it took me a moment to remember why I was naked and why there was a pleasant, but very noticeable ache between my thighs. As the memory came back to me, a smile slid onto my face, but when I rolled over to find the bed empty, a flicker of worry sparked in the pit of my stomach. Especially when a glance at the clock told me that it was only seven in the morning. We couldn't have fallen asleep much before one so there was no good reason for him to be out of bed already.

I called out his name, hopeful that he would respond, but I wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't. The dread I was feeling intensified at the silence around me and I dragged myself out of bed with the intention of checking if he was in the bathroom or perhaps back out on the balcony. However, the sight of what was on the floor, or more accurately what wasn’t on the floor, made me pause. My dress and panties were laying where they'd been tossed, but his clothes were no where to be seen.

Trying to keep a level head, I quickly pulled on the oversized shirt that I usually slept in and ventured out of my bedroom, but my fears were quickly confirmed. My apartment was empty.

At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt as I desperately tried to rationalize his disappearance. Maybe he woke up early and went out to get us breakfast and coffee? The dull throbbing in my head told me that I could certainly use a good shot of caffeine and it was a pretty safe bet that he was feeling the same. But, when he didn't return after half an hour, I assumed that theory was just an optimistic wish.

After forty-five minutes of sitting on my couch, watching the door - willing it to open and for Chris to appear - I sent him a text. I tried to keep it low key and chill, but after another hour of staring at my phone, the words "Hey, where'd you go?" started to seem more and more desperate.

By ten o'clock with no response and no sign of Chris returning, I accepted the situation for what it was.

He wasn't coming back.

It was a drunken mistake that he clearly regretted.

We'd risked our entire relationship for one night of wonderful, incredible, but meaningless sex and he didn't even have the guts to stick around long enough to talk to me about it.

One stupid night and I'd lost one of my best friends.

The thought brought tears to my eyes and, before I could stop myself, I was blubbering like a baby as I curled up on my couch. I was devastated and heartbroken. I'd let myself believe that maybe he wanted me the same way that I wanted him because we were so close and I never would have imagined that he would let it go that far just to ditch me in the morning without even a goodbye. Surely, after a year of such strong friendship, I deserved more than that.

But no matter how stupid and naive I felt in that moment, nothing would compare to the level of utter foolishness I felt later that day when I was tiding up and realized that there wasn't a condom in sight.

Part Two

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans one shot #once bitten/more hearts

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thewildomega · 3 years

Text

Star in the Sand Ch.22

Waking up you groaned and moved your hand to rub your throbbing head. Pushing yourself to sit up on the cold floor you cracked your eyes open and looked around the room to see metal walls, metal floors and a heavy duty metal door. Trying to recall what you had been doing earlier you blinked. You remembered training with Zoro, it hadn't been easy to convince the swordsman to teach you some spearman ship but after explaining that you were determined to be able to protect your child he had agreed to help you.

It had been about a week since the ship had left Fishman Island and while you were excited to see Crocodile again you decided to take this opportunity to better get to know the crew. Teaching Sanji recipes from your world which Luffy enjoyed taste testing. You told Chopper stories you knew as well as exchanging jokes with Brook. Drawing sketches of different machines and explaining them to Franky while Usopp took a chance to help show you different plants he had learned about. At night Nami would explain the different weather patterns and how to better understand the signs of a oncoming storm. Before bed you talked with Robin about your world.

During that time your belly had slowly started getting a bit larger as well, your bones no longer protruding to the point that you could rival Brook. Nami and Robin had even had some lotions and oils to help with your dry skin and hair. You still looked different than you had before going into Impale down but hopefully now you might not scare Crocodile away. Sleeping in an actual bed had also helped with the deep shadows around your eyes even if you were constantly plagued with nightmares. Now that you thought about it that was the last thing you remembered doing. After sparing with Zoro a bit you had drank the vitamin infused smoothie Sanji had made you and then followed Bon's advice to go lay down and rest.

This however was not Nami and Robin's room. You weren't chained or tied so that was a good thing. However you were only dressed in a pair of jeans and a black tank top. You didn't even have any shoes on, the sandals that Nami had gotten from Pappag. Now that you were coming to some more you realized it was actually cold, not as cold as level five but still chilly. Then it hit you. Punk Hazzard. "Oh Fuck." How the hell had you slept through the arrival, you must have really been out of it. If you were in here then that meant that Luffy, Zoro, Robin and Usopp were already on the hot side and you and the others were here. Only thing was though that you looked to be locked away in a separate room. Why was that? No matter the reason you had to find a way out of here. Standing up you looked around the room and saw it completely bare. Trying the door just for the hell of it you weren't surprised to find it locked up tightly. Go figure. There had to be a way out, think! The walls were metal as well as the floor, looking up you saw the ceiling made of the same metal but... there was also a vent. You could work with that.

.............................

Looking around the frozen wasteland, his hair blowing in the harsh wind. They had been walking around for a while now, bypassing the group of marines. Splitting his crew in thirds to go search in a different locations while Daz, Hex and himself went towards the mountains he stopped when he heard explosions. Narrowing his eyes he sensed the presents of others and started that way. When they got close enough that they could see smoke he heard yelling and turned his head to someone he wasn't expecting.

"GATOR! Hey Crocodile!"

"Straw-hat." he spoke around his cigar. Of course, that's how she got here.

"Over here!"

Sighing he wasted no time in turning to sand and quickly flying towards the yelling idiot.

"You're here, that means you got Y/n's letter, she's going to be so happy!" Luff spoke with a smile as Crocodile reformed.

"AHHH NOW CROCODIE IS HERE TOO?!" Both Usopp and Chopper yelled.

"She's with you then? She's safe?" he asked, not being able to keep the emotion out of his voice. Quickly looking around the place that seemed to be in ruins he noted a few of the Straw-hat crew, Nico Robin included along with another face, Law. However he didn't see Y/n anywhere.

"Well no not exactly..." tilting his head and rubbing the back of his head.

Seeing Crocodile's brow twitch Robin stepped forward some. "What he means is that she is not with us right now."

"Then where is she?"

"I duno?" Luffy shrugged.

Gritting his teeth down on his cigar he heard as Robin offered to explain their current situation. Sighing he moved over to speak with her, hearing the Straw-hat crew go back to they previous conversations. For the next few minutes Robin explained to him how Y/n had temporarily joined them along with Bon Clay. "Bentham?"

"Yes he apparently helped her escape Impale Down. I am guessing that since she knew about us from her world, she knew where to find us in Sabaody, knew that Luffy would have no problem helping her."

Humming he puffed on his cigar as Robin told him about everything that had happened since they had gotten here. They had apparently separated but even once they were all reunited Y/n was not with them. "How is she? How has she been?"

Taking a deep breath Robin blinked and looked to her old boss. It was strange seeing him care about someone's wellbeing but she wouldn't comment on it. "Well I did not know her before hand but as for her health... it has improved slightly since she first arrived. I am sure our Doctor, Chopper, can tell you more at a better time."

"Hey how about changing us back now, I can't do anything in this body." Franky yelled.

Turning his attention back to the rest of the group he watched as Trafalger Law used his Devil fruit powers to change some of the Straw-hat members back to their original bodies. After that he stood back with his arms crossed over his chest as Law explained how this Caesar Clown who used to work with Vegapunk had taken over the island and how he was experimenting on children. His main goal to change them into giants so the military could use them in war.

"...this woman you are looking for, the one known as Firelocks Y/n, she's in the main Lab. Caesar is keeping her locked up in a separate location from where the rest of you were taken." Law explained.

"But why? What would he want with her?" Nami asked.

"Think about it. Caesar has been experimenting on kids for a while now and while he has had some results he hasn't gotten the ones he wants. Vegapunk himself determined the sooner a specimen started getting the drug the better the results."

"But that would mean?! NO! No he can't!" Chopper yelled.

"What I'm not getting it." Luffy said in confusion.

"Caesar is keeping y/n because he wants to experiment on her... because she is pregnant!"

His breath caught in his throat. Pregnant, she was still carrying their child? This whole time? Through Impale Down? Blinking and then gritting his teeth when he registered what he had just heard the cigar soon broke in half between his teeth. This Caesar was threatening his soulmate, his child.

"This guy is a sick son of a bitch ain't e'?" Hex spoke in a growl.

"Yes. I'm not leaving this island until Y/n and the children are all safe." Nami spoke.

"If I leave here with Luffy are you going to stay here alone?" Law asked.

"Wait I'm not going anywhere. If this is important to Nami and Chopper than I'll stay too. Plus Y/n is my friend and that Caesar guy has her, I'm not just going to leave her there. I mean I told her I'd help her get back with Gator. Then Sanji wants to put that Samurai back together. Look if you are going to work with us then get used to helping people." Luffy told Law as he turned towards him some.

Seeing Law's look Usopp sighed. "Here's the thing. See most of the time when you're forming an alliance you get a couple of groups with a common goal and you negotiate the best way to get it done, does that sound right?"

"Obviously."

"So you'd think but in Luffy's world that logic get's thrown out the window completely."

"Just means I'm friends with you." Luffy butted in with a smile. "Like me and Crocodile, we're friends, right Gator?"

Blinking slowly he stayed silent, his arms crossed over his chest.

"That's a yes." Luffy grinned.

"You can forget about having any say in what we do. It's all up to him."

"All up to me." Luffy beamed.

"As soon as this guy makes up his mind about something that's it. You're along for the ride wither you like it or not. If selfness was a power he'd take out that emperor on the spot."

"What Emperor?" Daz asked.

"After this we're gonna go take down Kaido." Luffy grinned.

"Fine but we have to hurry up, there's no time. Putting the Samurai back together can be your groups problem. I guess I can go investigate the drug that was given to the children. If they have already started giving it to the woman then maybe I can come up with an antidote. Now who's the ship's doctor again? You come with me, we'll do research behind Caesar's back. Crocodile, one of your men can come as well, maybe he can search around the lab for Firelocks but if they get caught it's on them."

Looking to Hex he tilted his head and saw him nod and start walking away with Law and the furball.

"Daz perhaps you can stay here and help Nami and Usopp protect the children. Their withdrawals have been making them lash out and they coudl use the help." Robin suggested.

Nodding once Daz looked to him he heard Straw-hat say that he was with them.

"Now I'm gonna go kick this Caesar's ass." Luffy smiled.

......................................

Crawling through the vent for sometime you grumbled to yourself as your knees started to ache. So far you hadn't been able to find a suitable room to drop down into and you were starting to wonder if you ever would. Continuing to crawl you stopped when you heard voices. Quietly moving over to look down into the vent you saw none other than Law and Monet. They seemed to be walking down what looked to be a hallway of sorts. You couldn't make out much but when you heard Law say something about leaving you knew what events were about to unfold. Shit. As they passed out of your view you heard another voice, a deep voice. As the three talk about 'Joker' you heard a pained gasp and wince, this had to be the part where Vergo shows up. That was one guy you really didn't want to be found by.

Staying as still and as quiet as a statue you watched as not too long later Monet and Vergo walked by, Vergo dragging a now unconscious Law behind him. With the poisonous gas soon to be flooding the place you didn't want to keep trying your luck with the vents. Glancing down to the floor you saw it not too terribly far down and sighed. Slowly opening the vent you peeked out to make sure the coast was clear. Easing out you hung from the vent as you tried to lower yourself down as best as you could. Taking a deep breath you let go and managed to land on your feet before falling back on your ass. Better than you stomach. Placing a hand over your baby bump you took a moment to get your barring's. Now you just had to make it to the center part of the lab so the gas wouldn't turn you to stone. Wrapping your arms around yourself you grit your teeth, cold why did it always have to be the cold? Hearing your stomach let out a growl you sighed. "I know." patting your belly gently you walked down another hall but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw two of Caeser's men standing there.

"Hey! What are you doing out of your room?"

"Get her!"

Throwing your fist through the air and kicking at the other you grabbed his gun when he dropped it. Slamming the but of it into the man's gut you heard him groan. Swinging it around into the other's face you knocked him to the ground and didn't see him get up. As the other went to get up you quickly went around him, putting the barrel of the gun against his throat and pulling back. Whimpering out as he elbowed your ribs hard enough to make the breath leave you, pulling it as hard as you could you were thrashed around until he finally fell unconscious. Pulling the gun out you swung the strap over your arm and hurried on before more showed up. Passing by a door you saw words written on it out of the corner of your eye you glanced up and rose a brow.

....................................

"It brings back memories to see you two in the same cell." Robin spoke.

"Oh yea Smoky and I got caught by you and Gator in Alabasta. Kinda funny now that you both are in here with us isn't it?" Luffy laughed.

"Forgive me if I fail to see the humor." He said with a slight roll of his eyes.

"Shut up you damn fools!" Smoker growled.

It shouldn't have surprised him that that feathered idiot was behind this whole operation. He wasn't even surprised to see he had managed to work a spy into the navy itself. When Caesar came into the room he grit his teeth. To think someone like him was able to defeat all of them, even when it seemed like Straw-hat had him. Hearing him tell the 'Vergo' man to start the video he saw him turn to them again and begin taunting Law. Seeing them have not only Law's heart but Smoker's as well made him raise his brow. Watching the screen he knit his brows at the giant piece of candy being laid out. Listening to Caesar go about explaining this 'smiley' creature he watched the screen as it showed the purple gas start infecting the island. When the footage showed others out on the snow running away from it he blinked when he realized it was some of his own crew along with the straw-hats and Bentham.

"Hey that's Zoro, they're all running from the smoke."

"Would you look at those fools, what are they doing out there and what the hell kind of run is that?"

"Oh look the Samurai got his body back." Robin grinned.

"Yeah you're right, guess that means he isn't going to give me his legs." Luffy grumbled. "Hey wait that's not important right now Robin." Leaning up some he looked to the video "Run faster guys, that smoke will freeze ya dead! You gotta ru..ahn..ahh." Falling to the ground on his face he groaned. "Aw man I don't have the strength to yell. Damnit, dumb sea prism stone."

"I take it those are your friends Straw-hat Luffy?" Caesar asked before laughing.

"Yea they are my friends and they are going to be make it just like Y/n once I find out where you're keeping her. You better not have given her any of those drugged candies." Luffy growled.

Hearing his soulmate's name get brought up he snapped his eyes over to the man, his body tensing slightly.

"Who?"

"I believe he is talking about the woman Joker wants." Vergo spoke in his calm voice.

"Oh her?! I wouldn't dream of drugging her, well not if I want to keep my life. Don't get me wrong I would have loved to test the effects of my drug on her and the unborn child but Joker made it perfectly clear she was not to be touched."

"Why what the hell would he want with her?" Law asked.

"He doesn't want anything with her, he's simply the delivery man."

"For who? Who want's y/n?"

"Big Mom maybe, Y/n told me, Robin and Nami that she wanted to kill her." Franky added.

"Try the other side of her family line."

"Yes one wouldn't be able to tell she comes from such a strong bloodline just by looking at her." Caesar grinned with a small chuckle.

"Kaido. She is Kaido and Big Mom's granddaughter." Law spoke once it clicked in his head.

"So Two of the emperors had a baby?!"

"What can I say, they're must have been some lonely nights on Rock's ship." Vergo huffed.

Shocked by the news he felt his heart hammer in his chest. She was in even more danger than he first thought. If that were true then that would mean...

"So what the hell does Kaido want with her?!" Luffy yelled.

"Kaido wants a strong army, she's his blood..." Law told him.

It wasn't difficult to put together what Law was saying and once he did he felt the vein in his forehead and neck stick out, his fist clenching at his side and his teeth gritting together. Over his dead fucking body.

"I can see this troubles you Crocodile." Vergo spoke, addressing the ex-warlord for the first time. "Knowing that the two of you were affiliated before her time in Impale Down I am going to go out on a limb and say the child growing in her womb is possibly yours. If it's any consolation Kaido may allow her to keep the child once it is born... if she behaves. If not then it will join you in the afterlife."

"Bastard." he growled so deep it almost sounded inhuman.

Laughing at the whole situation Caesar gave a smile. "I'll give you this one last chance to see her." Waving his hand towards the workers he saw them pull up the footage of her room, "Now say goodbye to your ahhhh where did she go?!"

Seeing the room empty he felt hope fill him. She had made her way out.

"Shishishi, Y/n escaped Impale Down, did you really think you would be able to hold her in there?" Luffy giggled.

"I wouldn't underestimate her if I were you." Robin chuckled

"Grahh. No matter, she will be found soon enough but I'm sorry to say that by then you all will be dead." Nodding his head he watched as the crane picked up the cage and started moving it. "Time for me to show the world that my weapon is tougher than any high bounty pirate, Marine vice admiral or Warlord of the Sea." Caesar laughed.

Getting freed by Law he stood straight and brushed off his clothes. Getting into the lab he watched as the rest of the Straw-hats, marines and his own crew hurry into the lab.

"Alright looks like everyone's here." Luffy smiles.

As soon as he heard Law tell them they needed to get to the door with R building 66 on it he looked down to his men. "Go help the Straw-hats with the kids then get to that door."

"Oh Mr. Zero there you are. Wait where is Y/n?" Bon asked, quickly looking around for his friend.

"I'm going to find her." he replied gruffly. Turning around he waited for no reply, refusing to be separated from his soulmate any longer.

...................................

Running through the lab you held on tightly to the sword you had gotten off the most recent group of Caesar's men. After hearing one of them yell 'There she is..." you were fairly certain they knew you were missing now, which meant Caesar did as well. Assholes had made you drop your jar of peanut butter you had swiped from the kitchen as well. You heard an explosion go off earlier so you guessed the others had made it inside by now. Knowing from the manga that the gas would be spreading quickly now you pushed on to make it to building R. Wincing when your leg ached you moved your hand down to hold it over the bleeding gunshot wound there. As another round of gunfire rang out around you, you heard one yell that you were not to be seriously injured. Running behind the corner and onto the stairway you tried to outrun them but were forced to stop when more yellow dressed men showed up in front of you.

"Now come on lady, just come with us and we won't be forced to hurt you anymore."

Gritting your teeth you looked back and forth, you were surrounded and while you may have been able to take on five or six of them there looked to be at least a dozen. Backing into the railing you snapped your eyes behind you to see the floor far below. There was no way you would survive the fall... but there was another option. Looking back to the group you saw them inching there way closer. It was now or never. Turning around quickly you climbed the railing and jumped.

"NO!"

Grabbing hold of the chain you gasped as it started falling, you were not expecting a pully. Seeing the ground coming up fast you grabbed hold of the other one and let out a muffled scream when it tore away the skin on the palm of your hand. Pushing through the pain you slowed yourself down enough to not die when you hit the ground but you didn't stick the landing and were left a little dazed when your head smacked against the hard floor. Blinking slowly as the world seemed to spin you held your belly with one hand and turned your head to the side to see the yellow suited men running down the stairs. There muffled yelling rung in your ears and you whimpered as you pushed your body to sit up. Seeing the fallen sword on the ground not to far away you crawled over to grab it and pushed yourself to your unsteady feet.

Raising your head as the heavy footsteps grew closer you just did swing your sword in time when one of them took the chance to grab you. The man was quickly replaced with another and all too soon you found yourself in another fight but this time it wasn't looking too good. Crying out when one of them sliced at your shoulder you backed away, the grip on the sword loosening to the point you almost dropped it. Bringing your knee up and then kicking you refused to give up but you were quickly growing exhausted. Tring to swing the now heavy sword again it was blocked and smacked from your hand. Feeling a hand yank on your hair you winced and hit against the man as he stood above you. Seeing him hold out a can of what you guessed was that sleeping gas you held your breath and tried yanking out of his hold.

"This would have been much easier for you if you would have just did as we sa... ah!"

"AHHH!"

Feeling the hand on your locks loosen you went to fall to the floor but something held you up. Seeing nothing but black you let your eyes slip close, a heavenly smell filling your nose. Then there was a voice, a deep voice, one you had only heard in your dreams for what seemed like a lifetime. Pulling back some you looked up and saw him. After so long you weren't sure he was real. "C..croc?"

Taking care of all the filth that dared hurt his darling he looked down when he heard her trembling voice. Seeing those sea blue eyes looking up at him and hearing her say his name he couldn't help but grin. As soon as he did he felt her arms wrap around his waist, her face burring into his abdomen.

Shaking with sobs you held onto him so tightly you only knew his clothes would be wrinkled. It was him, it was really him.

Prying her arms from him only long enough for him to lift her up he felt her arms wrap around his neck. Holding her with his left forearm and hook he wrapped his right arm around her to return her embrace. His eyes closed momentarily, relishing the knowledge that she was in his arms once again after six months apart.

There were so many emotions overtaking your body but none more prominent than happiness. Tears poured from your eyes, soaking into his coat and shirt but he didn't seem to mind. "I'm ssssorrryyy." you sobbed.

Hearing her heart wrenching apology he licked his lips, swallowing the lump growing in his throat. "Why on earth are you apologizing to me? You have no reason to be sorry..." Clenching his teeth he gently rubbed the back of her head and hair. "I on the other hand don't deserve your forgiveness, everything that happened to you, all of this, it's my fault."

Shaking your head you nuzzled your nose into his neck. "No it's no..."

"It is." he said through gritted teeth. "I failed you again... I didn't..."

Leaning up you pushed your lips to his. Holding his face in your hands you refused to let him break away. After a few moments he sighed, his lips softening to kiss you back and you knew you had won. Tears continued dripping from your eyes and no doubt onto his face. Pulling away only to peck his cheeks and lay your forehead on his you closed your eyes. You didn't know wither it was from finally being reunited with your lost love again after so much or all the injuries but you felt very tired.

Feeling her body slacken against his he opened his eyes slightly and looked down to her. Seeing the blood on her forehead he recalled where they were and what was happening. Moving her over to the steps he sat her down and kneeled in front of her while his eyes scanned over her body. He could see blood soaking her pants leg, a gash across her shoulder and blood coming from her head. There was so much more he wanted to observe but now wasn't the time. Removing his belt he put it around her upper thigh and pulled it tight to stop the bleeding until it coudl be treated. There wasn't much he could do about her other injuries unfortunately. As his eyes fell to the small bump under the thin tank top she was wearing he felt his heart beat harder in his chest. Reaching out he ever so gently placed his hand over the majority of her stomach. Blinking he stroked her belly with his thumb, "You truly are an amazing woman."

Grinning bashfully you looked down to his hand and placed yours overtop for a moment. That quiet moment was soon interrupted as a loud explosion shook the lab. "We have to go, now."

Nodding he stood and removed his coat wrapping it around her slightly trembling body he lifted her up into his arms again. He would get them out of this place and then he would never have her out of his sight again.

#Sir Crocodile #one piece crocodile #crocodile fanfiction #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x reader #one piece crocodile x reader #crocodile x ofc #soulmate #soulmarks #soulmate au #One Piece Fanfiction

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bumbleberrysky · 4 years

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alexa, play candyshop (bass boosted) | 01

pairing: gabriel x reader genre: soulmate au, canon divergent around s13, hurt/comfort, humour, future smut (probs) wc: 3.2k rating: sfw warnings: none except the appearance of battered gabriel fresh out of asmodeus’ hold notes: welcome to my first dive into writing for supernatural! i saw someone say that s13 lit a fire under their ass like nothing else and honestly i don’t think i could have described it better. i binged so much while catching up the past few weeks idk who i am anymore

You knew there was a reason some divine power brought you to the Winchesters all those years ago, but to this day you still have no idea what that reason is. It's something you're destined to find out soon though, especially when you return to the bunker after months away and find not only a new face, but one that belongs to someone who up until that point you'd thought was dead. What does his return have to do with the changes you're suddenly experiencing in yourself? Will you finally find out the reason you'd been brought here in the first place? Maybe...

Chuck works in mysterious ways after all.

next.

“Honeys, I’m home!”

The bunker has the same light aroma of musty air and metal as you let yourself in through the heavy front door, feet carrying you, out of habit more than anything, to the steel landing that marks the entrance to the fortress. It’s been so long since you were last here that the two men you used to hunt with regularly have likely forgotten they gave you a spare key. Well, they hadn’t exactly given it to you so much as you’d made a copy on the down-low and kept it for occasions such as this.

One hand keeps pressure on your arm, an attempt to stem the bleeding, and the other carries your single carry-on bag. You make it about halfway down the stairs before your gaze swings out over the foyer and you freeze, mid-step.

Sam and Dean, the two figures you expected to find here, are standing stock-still with their guns half-poised (not directed at you) and expressions on their faces that are a combination of shocked, pissed, and extremely confused (mostly directed at you). Following the line of their weapons leads you to the other two occupants in the room, most definitely unexpected and completely unfamiliar.

One is in rags, cowering, and whimpering, unrecognisable underneath filthy tangled hair that covers his face, and the other is in a prim suit marred only by blood and a bit of dirt, barely a single strand of dark hair atop his head out of place.

“Twinkletoes? What the hell are you doing here?!”

It’s Dean’s stupid, old nickname for you that breaks you out of your shock, a glare already falling onto your face with the practised ease of muscle memory.

“I’ll answer that when you tell me what the hell I just walked in on—” You come the rest of the way down the stairs, slower and more cautious now, with your gaze trained on the two at the other end of the table. It’s when the man in rags finally looks up from where he had been cowering and you catch a glimpse of his face, bloody and bruised but instantly familiar, that your words swell and catch in your throat.

“… Gabriel?”

The brothers in front of you heave a great, unanimous sigh, a look passed between them telling you that you’re about to be on the receiving end of a very ludicrous and typical Winchester story.

x x x

The first time you met Gabriel was not long after you’d gone through the biggest plot twist of your entire life. You’d gone to sleep in your bed, in your home, and woken up in a completely different part of the world, like some magician had snapped their fingers and you’d been the punchline of their very next trick. Much to your regret and distaste, some minor investigation revealed that where you’d woken up in the backseat of a car on the side of the road was in some state in the US. You’d sworn to yourself that you would never step foot here in your entire life and then, like God or whoever reigned above was laughing straight in your face, you’d just up and woken up in some random car in a place that made you long to be literally anywhere else.

Preferably somewhere where the occupants didn’t have such easy access to guns.

…like the two men who screamed and pointed theirs at you when you popped up from their backseat after they climbed into the cabin, fast food in their arms.

That was the first time you’d met the infamous hunting brothers, the Winchesters, and the first time of many you’d nearly died in their company.

It had taken a while for them to trust you, but after you inviting yourself onto a few of their cases and saving their asses a handful of times (ignoring the amount of times they saved yours because you forgot that almost every American slept with a gun beneath their pillow) they’d eventually taken you under their proverbial wing. It helped that you had literally nowhere else to go and nothing but the clothes on your back and a bare handful of belongings to your name. Once they figured out you weren’t hiding anything up your sleeve and that you’re just naturally annoying and a little dumb, they’d happily invited you to become an official-unofficial part of their little hunting gang. This means you’re also familiar with the hilarious angel they have in their back pocket. Castiel is a riot and one of the things you miss most when you go off to hunt on your own.

Having been around during the whole ordeal of Lucifer and Michael going through the motions of continuing their family spat on an apocalyptic scale, you too grew to be familiar with their youngest brother, the archangel Gabriel. Of course, while you’d been there for a fair amount of the angel-turned-trickster’s shenanigans, you weren’t there for the final appearance he made at a hotel in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. In complete juxtaposition to the fact that you could count on one hand the amount of times you’d interacted properly with Gabriel, the sensations you experienced at the news of his sacrifice, his death, were unlike anything you’d ever felt before. You like to consider yourself much more emotionally healthy and with an emotional range far larger than that of a teaspoon and the Winchesters’, but that… that news was something that it had taken you months to recover from fully.

And even then, apparently your recovery wasn’t as complete as you’d thought, because hearing what the boys have told you now has made your eyes burn and your stomach turn into a nest of manic bees, your insides lined with flowers and pollen. You think, for a moment, that you just might be sick.

You’re sitting in the library, Gabriel having been taken to a room of his own by one Winchester while the other fills you in before they’re both reunited before you, and you’re in the kind of mood where you sort of want to just sit there and dissociate for a few hours, truthfully. You can tell you’re not going to get that opportunity though, so in the wake of the bombshell they’d just dropped on you about all you’d missed in the past few months—that they had apparently forgotten to tell you over the phone when you checked in occasionally— you do the next best thing you can think of for the moment.

Put it on the backburner, baby.

You massage your temple with your fingers as you lean your head into your hand, a sigh escaping through your nose. “See, this is why it feels like I have been brought on as a babysitter—I leave for a few months and you old men manage to dig up another almost-apocalypse and find and raise Lucifer’s kid?”

“Alright, first of all,” Dean whips out a finger to point at you, filling you with glee. You’ve barely been back a few hours and already you’re stepping back into your favourite “stir-the absolute-shit-out-of-Dean” pants. As always, he is almost pitifully quick to rise to the bait. “Old? Who are you calling old? Alright so maybe we have a few years on you but that’s just because you’re a toddler and w—”

“Dean,” Sam places a placating hand on his brother’s shoulder, a look that seems to be a mixture of amusement and exasperation crossing his features. “You’re making it too easy for her.”

The older Winchester pauses, turning to pin you with an accusing look. You smile, not even attempting to appear innocent. After staring at you for several long moments, Dean makes the ‘eyes-on-you’ gesture with his fingers before turning away, rolling the tension from his shoulders as he takes a seat across from you.

“You were gone for almost a year this time, did you have any luck, well, leaving?” Sam brings your attention back to him, the question dragging out a sigh that feels like it’s been dredged from the very depths of your being.

“No,” you answer, sounding somewhat petulant even to your own ears. “Why is it so hard to leave this god-forsaken country! I hate it here. I’m sick of trying to make a run for it and being zapped back into a swamp, or—or a pool at the top of a penthouse suite in the middle of some random city! It sucks balls.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Dean waves his hand, enjoying the dirty look you give him. “So you still haven’t found whatever purpose you’re meant to fulfil while here?”

You huff, shaking your head. “No. It’s been years and I still have no idea why I woke up here that day. Or why I can’t leave.”

Over the time you’ve spent with the Winchesters, a few things became apparent to the three of you about your stay here. One, it was indefinite. You’d discovered quickly that you are, quite literally, unable to leave. Every time you get close to escaping this country you black out and wake up back inside. Sometimes in a helpful place, sometimes…. Not.

Two, the three of you had thrown around and entertained the idea that maybe you’d been brought here for a reason, that like them maybe you’d been divinely allocated a role to play. But you’ve been through a lot with the Winchesters, whether in person or by association, and still…

You’re no closer to being able to leave and return from whence you came.

You have no idea why you’re here!

This is something that has really contributed to your temporary career as a hunter here. That isn’t to say that this profession isn’t something you were involved in before you came here, but you’ve really… you really dove into it, whether as a distraction or as an ongoing investigation as to what on earth was going to set you free of your tie to this place. A part of you thinks that each case you take on, each person or family you save and creature you slay might be the one reason that brought you here, and the one task that with its completion will grant you freedom. You’ve never been a fan of being caged; just because this one spans a grand total of 9.834 million square kilometres doesn’t make it any less of one.

This most recent expedition that led you to part from the Winchesters for such a long time was another of your failed attempts to leave. You think you’ve tried escaping at every possible point along the coastline and border by now, with a definite lack of success.

“Well, if it really is some divine intervention keeping you here, then it’s better if you just sit back and settle down, twinkletoes.” Dean huffs a laugh, leaning back in his chair with an accompanying creak from the wood. “Those divine types have proven to be… kind of assholes.”

You frown, but he isn’t saying anything you haven’t already thought. It’s part of why you’d settled so easily into hunting here, actually. ‘When in Rome…’, as they say. You’re familiar with the hunting grind and there is comfort in familiarity.

“Are you going to stay a while?” Sam asks, opening the first-aid box he’d first brought over when you’d settled down. Ah, right—you’d almost forgotten about the injury on your arm, despite the fact that you are still pressing a palm to it. You listen as he speaks, almost swearing you can detect a hint of hopefulness in his voice. “You still have a room here for you, of course. We haven’t touched anything inside.”

“Yeah, mostly because we didn’t wanna deal with the mess and the booby-trapped doors—” Dean’s under-the-breath mutter is cut off by your coo, a wide smile pulling your lips.

“Oh, you two missed me, didn’t you?” Instantly, you are successful in ruffling Dean’s feathers— Sam might take a bit more work, though. “I know I really light this dark, dingy place up but I didn’t know it was that bad without me! Ah, perhaps I will stay a while. You know, out of charity.”

“Sammy,” Dean says, beseeching. “It’s not too late—you hold her back and I’ll find her key. It’s not too cold, she’ll be alright outside.”

An appalled and affronted look slips onto your face and Sam has to clear his throat so that he doesn’t laugh and add to his brother’s torment.

“I’m not a misbehaving puppy,” you say, holding your arm out for Sam as he comes over and finally freeing your bloody hand. “Wait, unless you want me to be. Been broadening your horizons beyond animated tentacle porn have you, Deanie-bo-beenie?”

On cue, Dean’s face flushes light red, whether from anger or a brief spritz of embarrassment, only God knows. You can see Sam’s face grow tense from the effort of holding back noise in your peripheral as he tends to your arm.

“You know what? I’m better than this. I’m gonna let it go.” Dean rises from his chair, making a show of dusting off your metaphorical drama. His light eyes flick to you, squinting. “I’m tired; I have a date with my memory foam pillow and nice, warm, feather duvet and a good night’s rest, so goodnight. I hope your bed has bed bugs, twinkletoes, and I hope they bite.”

“I hope you sleep well too, Dean!” you call after him, deciding you’ll have to give him a break from the bullying tomorrow or else he’ll explode before you can have much fun. “Do you want me to come tuck you in?”

“No! Goodnight!”

His yell and disappearance down the hall is followed a few moments later by the familiar sound of a door slamming shut,

“That’s not very fair of you,” Sam announces, sounding strained and very much like he’s trying not to laugh lest Dean has an ear pressed to his door. “He’s too tired to fight back right now.”

“I know,” you answer, wincing as he wipes down the laceration on your bicep and cleans the blood away with an alcohol wipe. It burns, but it’s definitely not the most painful thing you have ever experienced. “I hadn’t seen you guys in so long, though. I couldn’t help myself.”

Sam simply snorts, reaching for the needle and thread to being stitching the skin back together, and you breathe harshly through your nose as you reach for another topic to distract yourself.

“Are the two—sorry, the three of you actually dads now? To… to Lucifer’s half-angel kid? I thought angels getting frisky with humans was, uh… illegal up in heaven.”

You feel rather than see Sam roll his eyes, your own pointedly directed away from your arm where he has begun to get to work. “It’s Lucifer, y/n, I don’t think he cares about what’s illegal up in heaven.”

You purse your lips—he makes a fair point. Honestly, you feel a little silly for questioning it. “Right, and he’s… trapped in some other dimension? An alternate world where the apocalypse really happened.”

“Yep,” Sam says, hitting a particularly painful spot with his needle. You hiss, giving him a glare.

“I wasn’t even gone a year! Just hearing all this shit is stressing me out so much, dude.” You sigh, attempting to adjust your position in the wooden chair without jostling your arm too much. Thankfully, practice has made Sam quick at his job and already he is almost done piecing you back together. He finishes up with a knot, snipping the thread and then placing a large bandage carefully over the wound. He dusts his hands once done, standing from where he was leaning against the table and proceeding to loom over you like a T-Rex.

“You’re blocking my light, bro,” you inform him, narrowly avoiding a subsequent good-natured smack to your good arm. “Damn, what the hell! Didn’t you take an oath or some shit? I’m your patient!”

“I was studying law, not medicine,” Sam retorts dryly. He turns to leave and put the first aid supplies away, his back facing you but not before you see how his lips twitch. “So your annoying ass is free game.”

“Maybe so,” you acquiesce, rising from your seat with a light grunt as you jostle your arm. You consider asking Sam where Castiel is, to see if you can get a hit of the good stuff and skip the healing process, but think better of it. You always feel a bit bad asking him to heal you, though you barely ever have to since he’s like a rabid mother hen the second he sees blood on any of you. “God, I’m beat. I didn’t think I could get any more tired than I was before, but as always catching up with you two has aged me a few years and now I’m just about as tired as you two are all the time.”

Sam doesn’t rise to the ‘old man’ bait you dangle in front of him—never really does, if you’re being honest; that’s mostly Dean’s vice— but he does offer you a smile that is unexpectedly sincere and fond.

“Go to bed, toddler,” he retorts, before continuing in a softer tone, “… It’s good to see you again, y/n. I’m glad you’re here. Dean and Mom are going out on a hunt in the next few days and I think you can really help with, uh… the whole Gabriel thing.”

For a moment, you don’t say anything. You’d sort of been trying to avoid thinking about the elephant in your mind, for the very same reason that makes your eyes burn once more. It hurts, a lot, thinking and imagining what he must have gone through at the hands of Asmodeus. It feels like your heart is going to tear itself to pieces in your chest from the sheer extent of your empathy and how terrible you feel for him. The Gabriel you saw cowering before you earlier is nothing like the confident feathery asshole you used to know.

Even having only seen him once, it’s enough to make you fearful of the possibility that… he might be too far gone to ever return to that last echo of his previous self.

“I’m not sure what I’ll even be able to do to help,” you respond, approaching the doorway to the hall with your bag in tow. You pause to finish what you’re saying, meeting Sam’s puppy-like gaze from across the room. “But I’ll try. It hurts to see him like that, so… I’ll stay a while, to do whatever I can.”

Sam’s answering thankful smile and nod is all you can ask for in response as you turn and head further into the bunker, dragging your bags back to the room you’d come to call your own over the years. Your gaze strays on the way to one of the doors that has a little note taped on saying, ‘please do not open suddenly or loudly’, undoubtedly the room that they have allocated to Gabriel for the time being. Heart heavy in your chest, you continue on down the hall and tear your gaze away.

You’re not sure how much you can do for him, but you hope you can do something.

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thelastspeecher · 3 years

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Best Revenge AU - Finally, Some Ford Content

Ford has been suspiciously absent from all of the ficlets I’ve posted thus far in this AU, and while I’ve talked a bit about his role, I haven’t gone too in depth. So, here, for everyone craving some Best Revenge AU Ford, I’m here to satisfy that craving. Finally, some Ford content. Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

Ford slowly woke up.

Shit. I stayed the night, didn’t I? He sat up. The man he’d slept with the night before was already up and getting dressed.

“Mornin’.”

“Good morning,” Ford said hesitantly, realizing to his horror that he couldn’t remember the man’s name. “Um…”

“I can make ya some breakfast ‘fore I send ya on yer way,” his one-night-stand said. “I’ve got to check in on my sister first; she’s startin’ a new job today. You can find yer way to the kitchen and make yourself some coffee while I’m talkin’ to her.”

“…Okay,” Ford mumbled. The man finished dressing and left the room. Ford hesitated for a moment before dressing as well. He exited the bedroom.

Which way is the kitchen? Ford chewed on the inside of his cheek and turned left. He followed the hallway down to a living room. One corner of the room had a colored rug, baby toys, and a playpen. He said that he lived with his sister, right? Maybe she has a child. Ford wandered into the adjacent kitchen. His jaw dropped. There was someone sitting at the kitchen table. Someone he recognized.

“Holy shit, Stan?!” Ford said. Stan looked up with a frown.

“Hey, keep it down around Junior.” His eyes widened. “Ford?!”

“I- you-” Ford’s gaze landed on the infant in Stan’s arms, greedily drinking from a bottle of milk. “Is- is that your child?”

“Yeah.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. “…Sorta.”

“What do you mean by-” Ford started. He was interrupted by the arrival of his one-night-stand.

“Oh, I see ya met my sister’s boyfriend,” he said. Stan groaned loudly.

“Lute. How dark was the nightclub where you found last night’s lay?”

“Didn’t pick him up at a nightclub. Found him at the library when I dropped off books fer Angie,” Lute said cheerfully.

“Look at his face.”

“Hmm?” Lute looked at Ford. He paled. “…Oh.”

“You managed to hook up with my no-good twin,” Stan said. The infant in his arms began to fuss. “Aw, it’s okay Junior,” Stan cooed. “I know, Uncle Ford is scary, especially his face.” Ford crossed his arms.

“We have the same face, Stanley.”

“Since Lute didn’t realize we were related when he picked you up, I don’t agree,” Stan said tartly. Ford sighed. “You better get going before you make Junior even more upset.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I find out what you’ve been up to and why you’re holding an infant that you said is ‘sort of’ yours,” Ford said firmly. Stan scowled.

“Lute, kick him out, will ya?”

“No.”

“Lute-”

“I think it might be good fer the two of ya to reconnect,” Lute said. “Don’t you think the lil bean would like an uncle from yer side?”

“He won’t know what he’s missing.”

“Okay, fine.” Lute smirked. “How do ya think Angie would want ya to act under this circumstance?” Stan glared at him. “You know full well that Angie would want ya to use this opportunity to reunite with yer twin.”

“…Fine.” Stan adjusted his hold on the infant. “Why didn’t you come to the kitchen with Ford, Lute?”

“I wanted to check in on Angie, but she’s still sleepin’.”

“Yeah. Since she’s starting her new job, I figured I’d feed Junior.” Stan grinned down at the infant. “He can’t be happy he’s getting his breakfast from a bottle instead of a boob.” Lute rolled his eyes.

“Crass, Stanley.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“You catch up with yer twin while I whip up some eggs,” Lute instructed, already opening the fridge. Ford walked over to the table and sat in the chair next to Stan. He peered closely at the infant.

“So…”

“So…” Stan parroted.

“What’s his name?”

“Stanley Junior,” Stan said. He frowned. “Well, he’s not really a Junior, since he’s got his mom’s last name instead of mine. But he’s named after me, so we call him Junior.”

“Ah. And, um, how old is he?”

“Four months.”

“Four months? Are babies supposed to be that small at four months?”

“Doc says he’s definitely smaller than average, but that he can probably catch up pretty quick,” Stan answered. He removed the now empty bottle from Junior’s mouth, then burped him. “He’s a good kid.”

“Is he yours?” Ford asked. Stan set the empty bottle on the table. “You said he ‘sort of’ was.”

“If you were anyone else, I woulda left that part out,” Stan muttered. “I hate your guts, but I’m not used to lying to you.”

“Pardon?”

“Biologically, he’s not mine. He’s my girlfriend’s ex-husband’s. But with how bad things got between Angie and Max, she decided not to tell him about Junior.”

That’s a strange coincidence. Didn’t Max Hillcrest at work recently go through a divorce? What was his wife’s name again?

“I was dating Angie, so I stepped up,” Stan continued with a shrug. “And Angie named her kid after me. I’m the only dad this little bean’s ever known. If things go well, I’ll be the only dad he ever knows.”

“Little bean?”

“That’s what Angie called him while she was pregnant with him. It stuck.” Stan smiled fondly at Junior. “Isn’t that right, bud?” Junior giggled.

“You’re raising another man’s child as your own?” Ford asked, his brain desperately trying to catch up with all he’d been told.

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“I love Angie. I love Junior. Why wouldn’t I?” Stan asked, a hint of a bite to his tone. Junior settled in his arms, smacking his lips happily.

“Fair enough,” Ford said, deciding to back off. Some tension left Stan’s shoulders. “Other than dating pregnant women and taking in their children, what have you been doing since we last spoke?”

“You mean, since Pops kicked me outta the house and you didn’t say anything or use your power to summon me in secret at any point for years,” Stan said flatly. Ford opened and closed his mouth a few times.

“…Yes.” Ford cleared his throat. “When we were younger, I remember you wanting to follow in Mom’s footsteps. I haven’t seen any pyro heroes around here, though.”

“Hold up, what?” Lute asked. The brothers looked over. Lute stared at Stan in shock. “Stanley, you wanted to be a hero when you were a kid?”

“Most supers do. And like Ford said, our mom was a hero. I looked up to her.” Lute was still staring at Stan. Stan sighed. “Obviously I didn’t do that, Gucket.”

“Yer mom is a hero?”

“Retired. What’s with the third degree?”

“You understand why that information is important in our line of work, right?” Lute prompted. “Does Angie know?”

“Duh.”

“Why don’t I?”

“‘Cause I’m not sleeping with you,” Stan snapped. “Even though I’m apparently your type.” Lute turned red.

“Wait.” Ford held up his hands. “Wait. Stanley, am I reading between the lines properly? Are you- are you a villain?”

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not,” Stan said. He met Ford’s eyes. “But whether I am or not, you know better than to snitch.” Footsteps sounded. Stan looked over. An exuberant smile broke across his face. “Look who it is! The hot new professor!” Ford looked as well. A young woman stood in the doorway, wearing athletic shorts and a T-shirt she was practically swimming in.

Presumably, it’s one of Stan’s. The woman smiled at Stan.

“I don’t mind it much when ya say it, but I sure hope no one at work calls me that.”

“If any creepy coworkers do, let me know,” Stan said. “I’ll handle it.” The woman grinned viciously.

“Oh, darlin’, ya know I’m fully capable of handlin’ it myself.” Stan grinned back.

“Good point.” He held up Junior. “Junior, say hi to your mama.”

“Aw, he’s too young to talk yet,” the woman cooed. She walked over to Stan, took Junior from him, and sat at the table. “And I don’t know if his first word ‘ll be ‘hi’.” She began to lift her T-shirt.

“Whoa, hey, uh, Ang, you don’t need to whip your boobs out,” Stan said quickly, glancing at Ford in distress. “I fed him while you were sleeping.”

“Oh.”

“Also, we have a guest.”

“Hmm?” The woman lowered her shirt and looked up. “Oh, my apologies.” She smiled at Ford. “My name is Angie McGucket.” Ford felt himself pale.

McGucket?

“Dr. Angie McGucket,” Stan corrected. Angie chuckled.

“Yes, I have a doctorate,” she said. She cocked her head, her eyes boring into Ford. “I’m guessin’ yer Stan’s no-good twin I’ve heard so much about.”

“I- uh-” Ford stammered, still reeling from hearing his ex’s last name dropped so casually.

“Geez, you make it sound like all I do is talk about Ford,” Stan said, rolling his eyes. “That’s wrong. All I do is talk about you and Junior.” Angie laughed.

Angie and Lute do appear to have the same nose as Fiddleford. How could I have been so blind?

“So, Stanford, what brings ya here?” Angie asked.

“I brought him home last night,” Lute said.

“Hmm, that seems out of character fer ya,” Angie said to Ford. She shrugged. “Just goin’ off the stick-in-the-mud that Stan described to me.”

“Why do you keep insulting me?” Ford asked. “This is the first time we’ve met.”

“Maybe, but I also feel like I know ya pretty well,” Angie replied. She bounced Junior in her arms. “Stan took a while to start tellin’ me ‘bout ya, but once he did, he had a lot to say.” She smiled. “Most of it was negative, sure, but some of it was positive.”

“Angie, shouldn’t ya be gettin’ ready fer work?” Lute asked. Angie groaned. “I’ll make ya some nice breakfast while ya dress ‘n whatnot.”

“Ugh. Fine.” Angie handed Junior back to Stan, kissed his cheek, and left the room. Ford coughed politely.

“I, um, I should probably leave,” he said. Lute looked over.

“Ya don’t want to stay fer breakfast?”

“Your sister isn’t the only one who has a shift starting soon.”

“Shift, huh?” Stan said, raising an eyebrow. “Where’s the big shot genius working?”

“Well, uh…” Ford rubbed the back of his neck. “I have been working on my own personal research, but to pay the bills, I’m currently employed as an executive assistant.” Stan snickered.

“Isn’t ‘executive assistant’ just a fancy word for ‘secretary’?” he asked. Ford flushed. “You better get going, then. Whatever doctor’s office you work for definitely needs you manning the front desk.”

“Stanley,” Lute scolded. Ford swallowed his retort.

He’s been remarkably civil, let him be childish for one moment.

“…See you later?” he suggested. Stan froze. “I mean, the fact that we were able to talk without fighting is, I think, a good sign that we can bury the hatchet.”

“Ford.” Stan met Ford’s eyes. “Junior was here the whole time. That’s why I didn’t shout or knock your block off.”

“…Oh,” Ford said softly.

“But…” Stan sighed. “I’m not against making up. Just know that the next time you and I are in the same room, it’s open season if Junior’s not there.”

“Fair enough.” Ford managed a smirk. “I think you’d be surprised by how well I can hold my own now.” Stan rolled his eyes. “Goodbye, Stanley.” Ford leaned over to smile at Junior. Junior stared at him with wide eyes. “Goodbye, Junior.” Junior giggled.

“Bye,” Stan grunted. Ford waved goodbye to Lute and walked out of the house. Beeping sounded from his pager. He pulled it out of his pocket with a sigh. The message made him sigh again.

I swear, I’m the only person who can fix the wifi at work. Everyone else either doesn’t know how or isn’t willing to do one of the secretary’s responsibilities. Ford shook his head. He put his pager away and began the long walk to work. A building full of superheroes and not one of them can unplug a router.

#I've also got another ficlet in the works that involves none other than the legendary Ma Pines herself #but here's some Ford stuff for now. hope it scratches that itch.#Best Revenge AU #Stanford Pines #Lute McGucket #Stanley Pines #Angie McGucket #Stangie Family #Stangie #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks #Junior Pines

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one-boring-person · 3 years

Text

Only Traitors Consort With The Damned. (Part Fourteen)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: injuries, death, blood, use of harmful gas, bad language

Context: (Y/n), Dwayne, Nico and Paul try to reunite themselves with David and Marko.

A/N: I'm sorry if this is getting a bit repetitive now, I promise it won't go on much longer!😅

Edited By: @jawline-of-steel

Masterlist

A hand on my shoulder wakes me, the gentle yet insistent sensation of someone shaking me from my dreamless sleep becoming apparent. I crack my eyes open to look at who it is, immediately meeting a hard grey stare as I do so, Nico's slightly dishevelled hair falling into his face slightly as he carefully tries to wake me, a grim smile creasing his features as he sees me looking at him. Withdrawing his arm, he replaces it where it was before: at the small of my back. Realising now that I'm lying on his chest, I go to roll off, hoping I haven't made him feel awkward in any way, only for him to stop me and gingerly help me sit up with him.

"Go steady, (Y/n). You're hurt, remember?" The werewolf chides me, lifting me very carefully off of his lap and onto the sofa beside him, keeping his hand at the crook of my back as I let out a whimper of pain, accidentally putting weight on my back leg.

"Yeah, thank you." I smile at him, turning my gaze to the room, where I see Dwayne and Paul watching us closely, both of them tense and jittery. Somehow neither of them look as if they've slept well.

"Sleep well?" Dwayne asks, voice sounding oddly detached, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"Surprisingly, yeah. You?" I respond, rubbing my head as the events of the night before come flooding back to me, dread reawakening itself in my core at the memory.

Paul laughs, bitterly.

"Not at all."

I nod, hearing exactly what I expected, pulling a sympathetic face as I do so.

"Do you think we can get back to the cave?" Dwayne interjects, the brunette anxious to get back to his friends.

I think for a minute, considering the dangers and odds of what might happen if we did, replying a minute or so after, noticing now how Dwayne has started pacing.

"We should be able to. If they found nothing, then the team will have moved on to the next likely spot, so there'll probably be very little risk in trying. If there is any threat, it'll probably only be a guard or two left there to catch me, but I reckon David and Marko will have taken care of them." I frown momentarily, "You guys must be hungry. When was the last time you fed?"

Paul and Dwayne look at each other briefly, seemingly considering when their last meal was, neither of them particularly sure of themselves.

"It definitely wasn't yesterday. We were going to, but then things went wrong, so we never really got a chance." The blonde reveals, scratching his head slightly, "Can we go, please?"

Unsurprised at their eagerness, I go to stand up again, groaning when a bolt of agony spikes up my leg. Frowning, Nico moves to support me, pushing me back onto the sofa with a firm hand.

"Take it easy. I'll carry you." He reassures me, getting up to stretch out his rippling muscles, his bones cracking audibly as he does so, the sheer size of him made more apparent than ever in the small confines of the safe house. The three of us can only watch in awe at the sight of the werewolf tensing and flexing some of his more painful muscles, eyes naturally drawn to him. Noticing our stares, Nico lifts an eyebrow.

"What?" He asks, looking at us all in turn, clearly confused.

"Nothing." We all say in unison, looking away again until he's finished, at which point he comes over to me and scoops me into his arms again.

"Ok, let's go." Dwayne proposes, leading the way out of the safe house and to the ladder leading up to the abandoned gas station above, where Nico briefly hands me to Paul so he can climb up and take me from him again when he's made it through the opening. Once the three of us are out in the open again, we start walking in the direction of the Bluff, Nico following on after Dwayne and Paul, who are going much faster than him, despite his broader stride, due to their nervous disposition. Neither of them say a word, choosing instead to focus on getting where they need to be, navigating the darkened surroundings with ease, using their heightened senses to the best of their ability.

As we walk, however, I become increasingly aware of Nico tensing behind me, the werewolf becoming warrier with each step, his grip on me incredibly tight as he moves along behind the vampires. The werewolf's head twitches in each direction every now and then, listening out for any tell tale sounds, though I can tell from the set of his jaw that he has not heard anything.

"What's wrong?" I ask him softly, worried at his behaviour.

"It's too quiet, I don't trust it." He says, looking down at me momentarily.

I frown, tensing my own muscles as I realise he's right: the surroundings are silent, not a sound to be heard for miles around except the footsteps of the three walking beings, the air laced with secrecy, my gut starting to wrench as my instincts start screaming at me to run. Before I can say anything, however, I notice that we've arrived at the Bluff, the raging sea audible from here as the cool breeze blows harshly around us.

Instantly, the two vampires run forwards into the light fog that surrounds the top of the cliff, something which I've never seen before up here, both of them eager to see their friends. Nico is more hesitant to follow, only just stepping into the mist to avoid continuing on into what could be certain doom. As he does so, I catch sight of two familiar figures standing at the crest of the cliff, looking as if they are waiting for us, their features obscured by the fog, though their silhouettes are very recognisable: David and Marko.

With cries of relief, Dwayne and Paul run towards the other vampires, only to slow down when neither of the others reciprocate the movement, both of them remaining stock still. Paul and Dwayne come to a halt, calling out their friends' names, only to be met with silence, something finally clicking in my mind.

"Shit, they used gas. Cover your face, now!" I yell out to them, aware now that we've been duped into feeling safe. Nico growls and steps back, his head twisting frantically from side to side, eyes flashing amber as Dwayne and Paul turn to face us, clearly confused. As they do so, two audible whooshing noises are heard, grunts of surprised pain escaping the vampires as crossbow bolts suddenly appear, protruding from their stomachs, blood erupting from the new wounds as they look at each other, then at me, terror clouding their eyes momentarily before they collapse to the floor, unmoving.

"No!" I scream out, wishing I could go to them, horror flooding me like a burning acid, fear and panic shredding any rational thought I had beforehand, my body writhing in Nico's grip.

"(Y/n) we have to go! Come on!" The werewolf says to me, sounding oddly aggrieved and reluctant to do so, clearly regretful that we have to leave them behind, only for a yelp of pain to fall off his own tongue, his eyes widening as he looks down at the silver knife in his chest. Staggering, he tries to hold me up, only to awkwardly fall to his knees, dropping me in front of him as his hands clutch at the bloody wound in his chest, his breathing heavy and ragged, the light leaving his eyes as he looks over at me one more time, before he drops to the floor, his muscular body soon going still.

"No, no, no! Nico please wake up! Please! Come on, this can't be happening! Oh, god, please wake up!" I shriek out, tears suddenly finding their way out onto my cheeks, coursing down my face as I sob into the bloodied shirt of my best friend, clutching at him as if I can bring him back.

"And this, my dear, is precisely the reason why you are no longer suitable for your job." A cold, snake-like voice cajoles me from somewhere behind me, the sound inciting a feeling of anger deep inside me, "You know the rules."

"Fuck off." I spit, turning to face the newcomer, keeping a grip on Nico's limp body.

"Now, now, there's no need to be vulgar." She chides me, coming closer, though her features are obscured by the presence of a gas mask. I know exactly who it is without needing to see her, however, and my suspicions are only confirmed when she makes a hand signal and the gas is switched off, the fog gradually clearing.

"I'll be vulgar if I want to be." I snarl back at her, glowering defensively at her as she removes her mask.

"Maybe around the scum you consort with, but not with your superiors." Valentine Fletcher commands, her pale, gaunt features highlighted harshly in the light from the tower just past the Bluff, each alabaster plane of skin cast in a bluish hue. Her pallid hair is swept up into a tight bun, her piercing heterochromatic eyes fixed sharply on me as she nears, "Plus, if you behave yourself, your friends might stand a chance of surviving."

At this, I frown and look ober where she is pointing, my heart dropping even further when I see what it is.

David and Marko are tied to respective chairs, their legs staked to the seats with their eyes covered in what I can only assume are holy-water soaked blindfolds, blood staining their skin and hair, their heads bowed to their chests. Behind them stands a line of black-clad Hunters, their faces masked, too, to ward off any remaining effects of the gas. Horrified, I look back at Valentine, who smiles at the look on my face.

"Well? Can we discuss things in a civil manner?" She chuckles mockingly.

Part Fifteen

#the lost boys #joel schumacher #vampire #david(thelostboys)#kiefer sutherland #paul(the lost boys)#dwayne(the lost boys)#santa carla #marko(the lost boys)#star(the lost boys)

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thominho-incorrectquotes · 3 years

Text

I need you, always

This is my entry for Thominho Week 2020, Day 7 “Soulmate AU”

Characters: Thomas x Minho

2129 words

Tags: Canon compliant, post canon, Soulmate AU, fluff

Summary: Thomas never felt worst. Not even when he went against his own promise and told Minho what he did to Newt. Not even when he pulled the trigger… Okay, maybe not as much, but he was still feeling bad. Really bad.

Note: I'm so sorry, I was supposed to post this 2 days ago, but I got busy again. Also, this fic is kinda part 2 of this fic.

You can also read it on AO3 and ff.net

________________________________

Thomas never felt worst. Not even when he went against his own promise and told Minho what he did to Newt. Not even when he pulled the trigger… Okay, maybe not as much, but he was still feeling bad. Really bad.

He was sad, irritated and he had the feeling that his heart was missing, like it had been ripped out of his chest. And he didn’t understand why or where it came from.

Everything was fine in the Safe Haven. People were doing well. It was a peaceful life. So why did Thomas felt so bad?

He was seating by the beach, like he always did with Minho when they were done with their tasks for the day. When they arrived to the Safe Haven, the other immunes somehow wanted the two of them to be part of the small leader group. They said that they trusted them ever since they guided them out of the Maze and brought them there. Everyone had agree, even Gally. Given that Minho had a natural authority and Thomas was quite diplomatic, they worked well together. Of course, older immunes were also part of this team of leaders, like Jorge.

Right now, Minho was away with a small group of immunes for an exploration trip of few days. Thomas had wanted to go, but since he was one of the leaders, he had to stay. Now, the cabin he shared with the Asian felt empty. Lunch time felt dull, his best friend was not there to crack a joke. And he was alone to go to the beach. Thomas really missed the older boy. He had been gone for only few days and was supposed to be back soon, but he still missed him.

Lost in thoughts, he didn’t realized that Gally came and sat beside him. Turning to the taller boy, a bit irritated because it was his and Minho’s spot, but he still greeted him. It was weird to admit, but Gally became quite a good friend over time.

“How are you?” the blond asked.

“Fine.”

“Don’t lie to me Greenie.”

Thomas hated that nickname. But coming from Gally, it kind of felt nostalgic, so he never said anything when he called him that.

“You clearly aren’t yourself right now” he continued. “Not that you smile much anyway, but nowadays you’re just… depress.”

The brunet didn’t reply and instead stared at the ocean, a view he couldn’t never be tired of. What could he have said anyway? He knew that he hasn’t been the loveliest person lately.

“You miss him, don’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question. And Thomas knew exactly who Gally was referring to.

“How’d you know?”

“It’s pretty obvious shank” he laughed. “You two are always together.”

Thomas stayed silent. Once again, Gally was right, he just couldn’t go and deny it.

“You know, I have this theory...” the Builder began. “When I was in Denver, I heard something pretty interesting.”

“And what could it be” Thomas asked in a tone that indicated that he didn’t really care.

“It’s about soulmates.”

“Soulmates?” That was intriguing.

“Yeah, soulmates.” Gally was grinning, which did nothing good to his disfigured face. “Apparently, soulmates were a thing back then. It’s now more of a legend, because of the Flare and the many deaths it caused. But anyway, it says that people are bound to meet someone at some point in their lives and form a strong bond with them that will never break. It can be anyone. A friend, a sibling, a partner… Anyone.” Thomas was confused. “Why are you telling me all that?”

“I think you and Minho are soulmates” Gally answered.

A bomb was dropped. The brunet stood up in shock. He couldn’t believe his friend just said that.

“W-what? Have you lost your mind?!” he almost yelled.

“Let me explain” Gally sighed. He should have anticipated this reaction. “The thing is; from the moment the soulmates meet, they can’t be away from each other for too long or else they’ll start to feel miserable, lonely and depress. It apparently feels like your heart is not there anymore. Tell me it isn’t how you’re feeling right now.”

Thomas was speechless. He let himself he let himself fall back on the sand stunned. The taller boy was looking at him, deadpanned.

“But…” he tried, but was unable to form a sentence.

“Listen” Gally continued. “Back in the Glade, Minho had never really been close to someone. He was often alone, until you came. Sure, he got along with Newt and some other Gladers, but close? Like how close you two are? Never.”

Thomas was surprised to hear that. His best friend was such an amazing person in his mind, he just assumed that he could attract and befriend anyone. He was funny, smart, strong… and quite attractive.

But then he thought back of that night in the Pit, where the Asian boy told him that Thomas was the only one who could understand him. He remembered that connection he felt with the Keeper at that moment. They had slept together that night. It had felt so good to finally have someone he could count on.

He remembered how he felt when he got reunited with Minho after they had been apart during the trials. He remembered the joy and relief he felt. He remembered how having the older boy in his arms felt, how happy he felt to know that he was alive.

Okay, maybe Gally wasn’t that wrong.

“Is it real? This whole soulmate thing?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but if it is, I’m pretty sure that you and Minho are soulmates” Gally replied with a shrug. “And thinking about it, I think Alby and Newt also were soulmates. They were both so close.”

Thomas didn’t want to think about Newt. It still hurt so much, even after telling Minho. But he admitted that after Alby’s death, the blond boy never was the same.

“Okay, and what do I do with this new information?”

“That’s your problem” Gally mocked him. “It was just tiring seeing you so depress, I thought it could help you if you understood why you’re feeling like that.”

“Wow, thanks Gally, I never thought you could be so considerate” Thomas replied sarcastically.

“Minho’s really rubbing on you” the boy snickered. “You two are really made for each other.”

At that, the brunet blushed, but turned his head, not wanting the other to see his red face.

“You know that he still haven’t forgave me?” Gally informed.

“Forgive you for what?”

“For trying to kill you. For wanting to kill you.”

“Nonsense, he did” Thomas scoffed.

“No he hasn’t. He hates my guts. I can barely talk to the guy.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah.” Gally grinned. “He really cares about you, you know? Never saw someone so protective…”

A million thoughts were running in Thomas’s mind. He was analyzing every moment, every details of his relationship with Minho. Every times the Keeper had been there to make sure he was safe. Every time he saved him.

He also came to the realization that ever since they first met, back in the Glade, he has wanted to be around the Keeper. His weird desire to become a runner must had come from that. At least, a part of it. He liked to be with the boy, having him all for himself. Their alone moments on the beach or on their cabins were times Thomas enjoyed the most.

His best friend was the most important person in his life. He knew that. But Gally just came and shook all his believes. Was it really more than that?

“Anyway, I have things to do” the Builder said as he stood up, shaking the sand that had gotten on him. “Have a nice evening.”

“You too…”

And like that, Gally left Thomas to his own thoughts.

***

Two days had passed. Thomas was doing his usual tour, helping some people and making sure everything in the Safe Haven was doing well, when he heard someone yelling that the exploration team was back.

He never ran faster. And he had run a lot in his life!

He just needed to see Minho.

Over the past days, his discussion with Gally had kept him awake at night. He just couldn’t stop thinking about it. Was Minho really his soulmate?

However, right now, he just wanted to see him. He had missed Minho so much.

When he finally saw the massive built and perfect raven hair of this best friend, he stopped breathing. He was there.

Without having the time to process anything, his body rushed towards Minho. He almost knocked him over by hugging him as if his life depended on it. Immediately, he felt better. The hole in his chest was gone. The sadness he carried with him also disappeared. He just… he really had missed him so much.

Minho was also holding him tight, nuzzling into Thomas’s neck. He couldn’t let go of him. At some point, they ended up on the ground, still holding each other. The world around them was a blur. The only thing that mattered was finally being together.

They stayed like that, silent, for what felt like hours. It just felt so good.

“Oh damn” Minho finally said, letting out a breath he was holding. “I’m never going away without you again.”

He feels the same Thomas thought. He feels the same!

It was clear now. He loved Minho. He was in love with him. And they were soulmates, there was no denying anymore.

“Yeah, you better” he replied, his voice muffled by Minho’s neck.

“Come help us lover boys” said Frypan who came to help unpack. “You’ll have plenty of time to make out later.”

Both boys blushed.

“We weren’t-“

“Yeah, but you were about to. Now help us!”

They reluctantly separated, slightly embarrassed. But they were happy to have each other again.

***

They went to their cabin not much later and as Minho was untying his shoes and went to lay on his bed, Thomas couldn’t help the warm feeling he felt over seeing his best friend back home. He realized that without him in their cabin, it haven’t felt like a home at all. It had been cold and empty. Now, it was warm and lively.

Once he got rid of his shoes, he saw Minho with arms open on his bed. Thomas immediately latched onto him. He missed their cuddling session too. He laid his head on the Keeper’s chest, his arms wrapped around his torso.

“Don’t ever leave me again. No for so long, it felt horrible” Thomas mumbled, drowning in all the feelings he felt about finally having his friend back.

“I promise.”

Minho was running his hand in the soft brown hair, making the boy almost purr. It wasn’t something abnormal for them to be like that. Ever since that night in the Pit, physical touch was a regular occurrence for them.

But something was bothering the brunet. He needed to tell him.

“You know…” Thomas began, breaking the silence. “Gally told me something weird.”

“And what is it?” The Asian had almost growled. Okay, so he really hated Gally…

“Well, it’s about soulmates…”

He then repeated what the Builder had told him. Every details. Minho was listening quietly, stroking the younger boy’s face with his thumb. He could feel the nervousness in Thomas voice.

When the Runner finished, his heart was beating faster than usual. There was still a slight chance that the older boy didn’t feel the same and doubted there were soulmates.

“That explains a lot” Minho however stated, to Thomas’s relief. “It was a bit weird for me, getting so attached to you, even after what you did for me back in the Maze. I guess it was why.”

“Yeah… it explains a lot…”

“Well… I’m happy my soulmate is the person I love.” It was said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Like something Thomas should have known for a long time.

“W-wait what?”

“What?”

“Y-you love m-me?”

Minho stared at him deadpanned.

“Yes, you dumb shank.”

“No… as in… in love with me?”

“Yes, you dumb shank” he repeated. “Really, after all this time you didn’t figure it out? I thought you were supposed to be bright.”

“But…”

“No, you’re dumb, just admit it” Minho laughed.

Thomas chuckled along. He never felt so happy. He was filled with joy that his feelings were reciprocated. He climbed on top of the other boy and grinned at him.

“Okay, I’m an idiot.” The Asian shook his head in agreement. “But I guess I’m your idiot.”

“Of course you are… Now come down and kiss me.”

___________________________

I hope you enjoyed this!

I personally really enjoyed this challenge! It had been a while since I wrote something in english, so just for that it was pretty challenging, but writing a fic everyday, coming up with ideas and just writing about my favorite ship was just really the best!

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.9

Sipping his glass of wine, Lance sat at his dining table. Poor Hunk had been overwhelmed in making sure every detail of the meal was perfect for Shay. Pidge had driven Shay out to his house, she’d immediately started complaining that her security system was offline, and had left to fulfil her quest in getting it back up and running. Shay was in the living room with Hunk, Lance volunteering Hunk to give Shay the grand tour of his house. Lance was left with Shiro for company, his eyes trained on the man’s back as Shiro kept checking his chicken soup. With everyone there, it seemed pointless to go ahead and feed Keith separately. Shiro was making his brother socialise, probably to make sure he didn’t expire from being a baby. Lance had the feeling he’d missed something between Keith and Shiro, their bond deep, but Keith seemed off. Like he hadn’t expected Shiro to take mercy on his undead arse. Did it have something to do with Shiro’s nose? There was definitely a story there.

“Lance, I can feel your eyes on me”

“What happened to your face?”

Whoops. That slipped out, zero filter between his mouth and mind

“Is that something that interests you?”

“If I’m honest, I’m more curious than interested. I’m also curious as to why you’re acting the way you are”

“Patience yields focus. I learned that the hard way, and got this scar for using my heart instead of my head”

Lance sighed. Matters of the heart were always complicated

“Before you continue, I’ve got a confession. I’ve never been in love, let alone had a partner. I can’t offer any advice there, but I can listen”

Shiro glanced over his shoulder

“You’ve never...”

“Nope...”

Lance popped the “p”, Shiro was listening to him, so he may as well admit his lameness out loud

“... I never wanted to take the risk. Being what I am is a curse. I never fed from a human and I never slept with one either. I guess it’s stupid, but I always maybe hoped that one day I’d have that kind of love, but I refuse to risk ruining someone’s life like mine was. You know?”

“I do. This isn’t that kind of love. I had a friend who got himself in trouble. He met a girl and fell in love, she was a werewolf, and Matt wouldn’t leave her to her fate. He was the one who introduced me to this world. It’s funny, when I was about your age we came through Garrison. Me, Matt, and his father. Back then the mobile coverage was poor, we ended up out of contact for a week... Matt’s mother and his little sister really laid into us when we got back”

Any mother would. Who just went missing for a week, and why the heck hadn’t the father called through on a pay phone on the way? Talk about irresponsible

“Shiro, I’m sorry to say, I’m older than you. I’m not 18, and I’m not 26”

“Right. Sorry. I forget that. There’s a lot of things about you that remind me of Keith”

“You said Keith had been through something. Was it to do with your friend?”

“No... No, that one’s a little closer to home. I had a partner, and it didn’t end well”

“Oh”

Talk about being insensitive. Lance felt he should be apologising for whatever had happened to Shiro’s partner. Clearly it wasn’t something good.

“I left him for a hunt, he was killed while I was away. Keith didn’t take it well. He had a hard life, but don’t hold that against him”

“He seems a little high strung”

“You have no idea. He carries the weight of sins that weren’t his to carry”

“Them feels right there. Shiro, can I ask you something?”

“You haven’t already?”

Lance bit his lip, looking down at his hands. The question he wanted to ask seemed like too big of a favour. No. He’d ask Coran, but Coran was bound by as many rules and laws as Shiro was

“Never mind. It’s fine. Just... your friend, Matt... he was really lucky to meet you. Living on outside... it’s hard. I’m sure having a friend he could count on helped”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. She bit him, turned him, and left. The last thing I heard he was travelling to find himself and find a cure”

“And her?”

“He said she didn’t mean to turn him. She left him with her heart broken, breaking his as she went. I don’t know her well enough to pass judgement. Like a vampire’s bite turns a person, a single scratch from a werewolf can too”

Lance shook his head. A bite maybe, with saliva, a scratch not so much

“I’ve met werewolves. It’s all about the blood. Your friend would have had to ingest her blood... I think. I try to avoid werewolves. It’s not my business to say anything. Sorry, just forget that I mentioned it”

“You’re trying to understand”

“It’s been 36 years and I still don’t. We should start setting the table. The others will be back soon”

“Need help?”

Lance raised an eyebrow. Shiro seemed semi domesticated, he’d probably had a hundred fancy dinners back with the other Blades

“You know how to set a table?”

“I know how to imitate setting a table. I do get a bit confused with all the fancy knives and forks”

“That’s easy, you start from the outside in. I bet Keith’s all like “I only need one knife and one fork, let me eat like a Barbarian”

Shiro chuckled

“Pretty much. I don’t think he’d use cutlery if he could get away with it”

“Great. He’s a cave man with a mullet. Fantastic”

Keith was coaxed out his room by Shiro, sullenly sitting across the table from Lance on the opposing end. Shiro seated beside Pidge, with Hunk and Shay sitting on the opposite side. Dinners at his house were always loud events. Pidge had piled her plate high, armed with a just a fork like the heathen she was, she was all smiles. She’d really taken a liking to Shiro, maybe because she was talking the man’s ear off

“I never thought you’d be here again. It’s a good thing you left your camera here. Anywhere else and it probably would have grown legs and walked”

Shiro laughed as he grabbed himself a bread roll

“Hunk said the same. We’re lucky Lance is such an inviting host. Normally we’re too busy to sit down for dinner like this”

Stuffing her face with lettuce, Pidge nodded, the bond between her and Shiro already felt like two siblings reuniting.

Chewing quickly, Pidge was stabbing at her stuffed potato before she swallowed her lettuce. For someone who required oxygen, she seemed to forget that with the speed at which she ate

“Yep. Hunk’s got mad kitchen skills. Lance isn’t bad. Don’t tell my parents, but dinner here is much better than home”

“Speaking of your parents, what do they do?”

“Mum and dad are both professors in Platt. Mum insists on big family dinners, Italian background and all that. I don’t know why though, since my brother took off, it’s just the three of us at home for them”

Shiro nodded along as she spoke

“So you have a brother?”

“Yep. His names Matt. Matthew Holt if mum’s in a mood. Full names always mean trouble. He’s been backpacking through Europe. Apparently he’s too good to contact us now”

Shiro choked hard on the piece of bread he’d just popped in his mouth. Quickly washing it down with his beer, Lance observed the very obvious change in his demeanour

“Matthew Holt... hang on, are you Katie?”

It was Pidge’s turn to choke. No one but Pidge’s mother ever called her Katie

“How do you know that?”

“I know your brother. I’m Shiro. Takashi Shirogane”

Pidge’s eyes went so wide it was comical, gaping at the man sitting next to her

“You’re Shiro! Holy fucking shit! No way!”

Across the table, Hunk looked to Lance, then to Shiro, then to Pidge, then to Shiro again

“Care to share?”

“Shiro was Matt’s best friend. Do you remember that road trip I told you about? Where Matt and dad totally went missing, Shiro was there too! Holy shit, man! It’s been... what? 5 years?

For Lance the revelation made his stomach drop. Matt... Matt as in Pidge’s Matt, was a werewolf. A turned werewolf. A turned werewolf that was distancing himself from his family in the hopes of a cure...

“8, since I last saw you”

Pidge let out a whistle

“Holy shit. Does Matt know you’re here? Like, in town? Dude, they were like besties in high school. Shiro and Matt were always off chasing ghosts, they wouldn’t take me with them though”

“We never did find any proof”

Dirty rotten liar. Shiro never should have said he knew Matt. He should understand what it mean to have someone that wasn’t human in the family, someone naive enough to think there could be a possible cure out there. “Everything on the planet had been gifted by God. Everything on the planet had a cure waiting to be found. It was through God that all things were made possible”. His Mami had told him that, she didn’t have an answer as to if God still loved him. A naive child’s question. Pidge pushed her chest out, sitting a little prouder

“That’s because you didn’t have me. Seriously, have you heard from him? It’s like he’s dropped off the face of the planet. He said he was going to Rome, but that was weeks ago”

“I haven’t heard from him in a little while either. I never thought the little Katie I remember in dresses would be you”

“I never thought Matt’s best friend would be showing up with a scar across his face! Mum would flip her lid if she saw that”

“Would you believe it came from fighting a werewolf?”

Pidge laughed openly

“Only if you believe I’m a ghoul, come to feast on your flesh!”

“I’ll keep that in mind. So, now I know about Pidge, what about you, Hunk? How goes the world of a paranormal investigator?”

Hunk was too busy making “lovey“ eyes at Shay. Pidge happy to continue talking to Shiro

“Hunk’s my wingman. It’s awesome because his dad lets us use the welding gear at the garage. We don’t have the money to buy all the fancy equipment so we build what we can”

“Really? What out of?”

“Car scraps mostly...”

“You do know ghosts are repelled by iron...”

Pidge gaped at Shiro, Lance wished he’d stop feeding her curiosity in the subject

“That are? I read that was a myth”

“Yep. Iron. Have you done any road trips cryptid hunting?”

“Yep! Mothman was a must. We did that one the first year of college. Lance was the only one with his own car at the time. Took us days to get out there, then he got bogged. We did the whole Sasquatch thing too. Not to shoot it, because that’d totally be a dick move, but to take a look around. I keep trying to tell Lance he needs to open his mind and believe more. I mean, even the bible references spirits and tells us no to play with them. And God admits he’s not the only god out there... There’s so many myths and legends, they all have to come from somewhere. But there’s also soooooo much crap out there, and then there’s mistranslations, and people interpreting things their own way... I just wanna hunt ghosts”

“Oh, no. You went and set her off, Shiro”

Shay giggled, Pidge shooting her a dirty look

“You’re supposed to be on my side”

“I am. I’m just saying that there’s no way a whole other world could exist just beyond our fingertips. If there was, science would have proven it. They say all these psychic videos exist that prove people like that exist, but, like, where’s the videos? Why are they hushing it up if it’s the next stage of human evolution. I think it’s even harder these days. The lines have been blurred with cultural misappropriation, and dumb people only wanting to steal stuff because they’re greedy morons. Like, if you’re not Native American, you can’t sage a room, and you shouldn’t be making and labelling any old thing a dreamcatcher, you dig?”

Lance nodded at Shay. In an ever changing world, some things remained. Like stupid people were always going to be stupid

“It’s always the quiet types. They open their mouths and out comes something unexpected”

“I happen to like the way Shay thinks”

Hunk jumped to Shay’s defence like he thought Pidge was insulting her, not impressed and pleased with Shay’s answer

“Aw, I like the way you think too, babe”

Shay winked at Hunk, who went bright red

“T-Thanks”

“You’re welcome. Tell me more about the work you guys do. I’ve always kind of wanted to see it first hand. Do you use a ouija board?”

“Nope. Those things are dangerous we fuck. You can’t control what you reach, nor can you send them back safely. We like to go in and record. See, if a spirit reacts right away, it means they want you out of there like ASAP. Most spirits hide themselves, that’s why you don’t get good readings. I mean, like, if a stranger rocked up at your house, you’re gonna wanna hide from them, am I right?”

“I guess?”

Pidge beamed, before launching into further details about her thoughts on the paranormal world. Lance felt sick. His stomach somewhere near his toes. Shiro had burdened him with a secret he shouldn’t have known. Pidge loved Matt but Matt was no longer the man she loved. She was so eager to be part of that world, she’d let herself be bitten if she ever knew the truth. Matt was doing all he could to keep his family safe from by staying away. He knew those feelings too well, and the internal wounds of being turned felt like as fresh as they did that day. He could almost feel the fangs on his flesh, here the laughter as blood was drizzled into his mouth. Waves of pain so intense they crushed the pain of his sires beating the shit out of him for fun. He’d screamed and begged, cried for his Mami and Papi, only to be openly laughed at. His stomach heaved, vomit barely swallowed back down. Pidge’s voice seemed to echo around his aching head as if she was equiped with a microphone and a thousand speakers.

“Lance, buddy, you okay?”

Smile. He had to smile. This was Hunk and Shay’s night. They were finally going to start dating. Absolutely nothing could go wrong. He smiled at Hunk, picking his wine glass up in what he hoped was a casual move

“Sure, just a bit tired from this flu”

Lance hoped he was smiling enough. His complexion was most probably horrid. He should have slapped a layer on foundation on to give him a much healthier glow

“Are you sure? You’ve gone really white”

“Buddy, light of my life, brother from another mother, I swear you worry far too much about little old me. I’m okay. Honestly I started zoning out as Pidge got carried away with her theories again”

Beneath the table, Pidge kicked him in the ankle

“Rude, much? Shiro’s interested, aren’t you Shiro?”

Shiro scratched the back of his head

“Totally. But, you lost me when you switched to alien encounters”

Pidge wrinkled her face up in annoyance, the pout was strong as she crossed her arms

“You all suck. Except for you Shay”

Shay giggled

“I know, I’m awesomeness embodied”

“You’ve got that right”

Hunk clamped a hand over his face, blushing beet red. Shay giggled again, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek

“I can always count on you, Hunk. So, Lance, have you got any embarrassing stories about these two you can share?”

“Well, the first thing that comes to mind is when we went hunting Mothman...”

Pidge shot forward in her seat

“Don’t you dare!”

“It’s more cute than embarrassing...”

“Lance, I swear I’ll stab you in the eyeball if you keep going”

Shay threw her head back as she laughed. Lance locked eyes with Pidge

“See, Pidge was super excited. So excited that she...”

Pidge raised her knife, Lance holding his hands up in surrender

“I guess I better not finish that”

Pidge had been so excited that she’s gone running off, slipped in a puddle, fallen face first in the mud with her beloved video camera. She’d been so pumped for the trip she’d packed everything but clothes. They’d had to buy really lame gimmicky clothes from the closest service station which had swum on her small frame

“Good boy”

“Damn, Lance. She’s got you trained”

Lance nodded at Shay

“Our little gremlin here can be pretty intimidating when she wants to be”

“I’ll bet”

“You should see her when she hasn’t had her morning coffee”

“I can imagine the horror”

“I don’t think you can. It’s like Satan has risen from the depths of hell to possess her”

Shay kept laughing, Hunk was so smitten with her that Lance wanted to grab them both by the backs of their heads and make them kiss

“Oh no!”

Pidge blew a raspberry at him, not enjoying his teasing

“Merp!”

“Merp, yourself. You know you’re not the greatest person ever in the morning, but we all love you just the way you are”

“I hate you. Why do I hang out with you again?”

“Because you need someone who can drive and lug all your junk around”

Pidge sighed dramatically

“Dammit. Stupid fine print. You know, I can’t deny that”

“Yep. Guess you’re stuck with me”

“Until your uses run out”

Lance pouted, clutching at his chest

“I’m wounded. Years of devoted friendship and this is how you treat me”

“Gotta be mean and keep’em keen”

“Don’t think I won’t remember this. To very last breath I’ll remember how you wounded me”

Pidge snorted with laughter, he loved it when she finally cracked. It was worth all the teasing

“You’re suck a dork”

Lance shot her finger guns, not feeling the least bit better internally

“Takes one to know one”

#once bitten twice stupid #vld #vld au #mpreg mentions in further chapter #vampire Lance #dumarse keith

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riviae · 4 years

Text

so this is long & rambly but i’ve been working on this for awhile now.... anyway, starts out very introspective!regis-y but becomes geralt/regis fluff real quick lol. hope y’all enjoy:

Before crossing paths with a witcher who proved himself to be a man worth following into the very jaws of death, the seasons hadn’t meant much to Regis.

He knew the cycle of things--life and death, warmth and cold, planting and harvesting--but he was an outsider to these things just as everything else on the Continent. Time passed. Wars were fought. Blood was shed. Empires rose and fell. All the while, Regis remained, burdened by an immortal life lived alone. To take part in humanity, to love it to some extent, but disappear into the shadows when a curious eye took interest in him. When a hand reached out--something that rarely occurred, unless holding a sword, pitchfork, or torch--he knew it was time to pack up and leave, lest he get too attached.

Self-preservation, for higher vampires, was confined to the affairs of the heart and the mind--their bodies were not in danger of ruin, but memories and emotions were often ruinous for his kind.

Yet, whatever contentment he could find as a bystander to the world’s happenings and goings was dashed the moment he met Geralt. All those years ago, Regis had fled from Dillingen to his home in Fen Carn, a cottage in the midst of an elven cemetery, in an attempt at avoiding the ever-encroaching war.

And in perhaps the same cosmically infinitesimal chances of the Conjunction of Spheres occurring, Regis’ entire life changed at the sight of milk-white hair and amber cat-like eyes. He stepped out of his hiding spot, brushed away the stray leaves that clung to his clothes, and faced his destiny with a reserved, tight-lipped smile.

He’s a witcher, Regis thought, the wolf medallion at the man’s sternum sparking a tiny flame of uneasiness in the vampire’s gut. Then, a more logical thought followed: I’ve always wanted to meet a witcher under amicable circumstances and now, here one is, practically at my doorstep. What luck!

As his journey with Geralt and the hansa continued, as they traveled and fought, bled and healed, wintered in a land akin to a fairytale, Regis had a startling realization. Something had thawed inside him and he was fairly certain it was the stirrings of love. Like a change in season, like the subtle shift from winter to spring, where one wakes in the morning and sees that all the snow has seemingly melted in the night, unaware of the slowly melting ice with each sunny day until it was completely gone, so Regis was caught unaware by what he felt for the hansa--by what he felt for Geralt in particular.

Just how far would he go for these humans? How much would he sacrifice for these flickering beacons of light, here one moment, gone in the next? It was the ghost of himself--the monster he once was--that would have asked these questions. But the Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzeiff-Godefroy of the present loved his friends even more for their fragility, their tenacity in the face of a world that seemed at the ready to send them into an early grave. Love, he decided, staring at the smiling faces of the hansa at their breakfast table in Beauclair Palace, was a good enough reason to die for--and a good enough reason to live for, when he was on the cusp of nothingness. When any other sentient being would have longed for death in the throes of agony, Regis held on. For them.

Memories spilled from his head at the first touch of magic-touched flames, nails clawing helplessly at the air. Fear burned him alive, ate away at his flesh until nothing but a pillar of ash remained. It was a pain worse than anything he had felt before--worse than anything he could have ever fathomed. He was neither alive nor dead, but something grotesquely stuck in the middle, unable to pass on to the comforting abyss of oblivion.

Between the coldness of fear and not-death, between the pain of a body futilely attempting to regenerate from nothing, Regis did find some respite. He dreamed. And dreamed. And dreamed. He was transported to memories of the past, and while some were happier than others, even the painful recollections felt better than the aching emptiness that threatened to swallow his consciousness whole.

Angouleme’s encouraging laughter whenever he used one of her... unique phrases. A warning pinch from Milva when he veered too far off topic, followed by an apologetic, but brief pat of his hand. A comfortable silence between himself and Cahir as they stayed up to guard the group during the night, sharing a small tincture of mandrake hooch to pass the time. Dandelion’s rapt attention to Regis’ stories, one time so transfixed that he caught his sleeve on fire as they all sat around the campfire and didn’t even notice. Geralt telling him about Ciri, voice warm, eyes crinkled in a rare unguarded expression of fondness.

He thought back on his journal entries, the once severe, cerebral scrawl now sprinkled with mentions of the hansa.

Angouleme somehow stole a dozen baguettes from the last tavern we stopped at and took only a quarter of one for herself before distributing the rest to the unfortunate people living in the slums of the city--and I never would have noticed (her prowess as a bandit is not something to be dismissive of, regardless of her youth) if she hadn’t also tried to search through my satchel while I “slept” in the hopes of finding olive oil to spread over her bread. For a child raised by cruelty, her morals are far better than mine when I was her age--or, rather, when I was developmentally at her age. Well, better in certain respects. She’s been quite a menace to the echelon of Toussaint...

Milva means to show me how to hunt like humans do, meaning that I must learn how to be an archer. I don’t have much skill with human weapons--for nothing is as deadly as a pair of claws or teeth built to pierce and bleed flesh--but I will try my best all the same. Perhaps after this we can continue our reading lessons. For as much as she bemoans academics and learning for the sake of learning (as in things not readily helpful in her everyday survival), she is a naturally charming and brilliant pupil. Her “common sense,” as Angouleme often calls it, has kept us from harm plenty of times--which is why her ability as a student doesn’t surprise me. Now, if only she would stop climbing up a tree whenever our lessons start to bore her...

Cahir, to my surprise, has taken on the role of doing the laundry for the group. Granted, we all have very few vestments to spare, but what clothes we do have that can reasonably benefit from a soak, Cahir takes and washes in the lake. Which, while I appreciate the sentiment immensely, I still found myself mildly panicked when I went to dress in the morning and my trousers were nowhere to be found. The man is quite young, probably no more than twenty-two years, but he has an old soul, as the saying goes. I would not be surprised if he finally grows sick of war, having grown up in an Empire where bloodshed is the status quo, and decides to make his living as a fisherman or farmer after we reunite Geralt with his ward. I sincerely hope that he gets the chance.

Dandelion, ever the poet, has shown me his latest ballad. And imagine my surprise when I realized it was about me despite my immense caution on writing anything regarding higher vampires at all. It’s incredibly vapid--a shame, since he is quite the wordsmith when not preoccupied by romantic affairs--but I admit, if it were published, it would become popular within a week. He took the story of my youth and twisted it into something nearly unrecognizable, save for the titular character being named Rex. A two-crown romance with the nominative case of my name attached... perhaps this is a caution to everyone: never make friends with a writer if you value your privacy.

Geralt dozed off beside me with his head on my shoulder. Now, him sleeping close to me is not all that uncommon--we spent many nights as a company huddled around a dwindling campfire together. What was uncommon was that he sought me out--practically barged into my room--to take his late afternoon nap... all the while I remained as still as a statue, attempting to process the sudden show of affection. Toussaint had softened Geralt in a way, so much in fact, that he apparently saw no harm in falling asleep next to a higher vampire, his swords still leaning in the corner of his room. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of his unusual straightforwardness. Where others might embellish their words, dress them up (or down) to suit their agenda, Geralt forgoes words entirely, instead letting his actions speak with a refreshing honesty. I heard the “I trust you, Regis,” as clear as day.

He thought back to all the times were his cowardice had kept him from voicing his feelings and it paralleled to his past, as if he were the same blood-abusing fiend of his youth. Centuries had passed and glimpses of the same shy, timid vampire who drank blood to be accepted, to make friends, only to lose himself in addiction, still rose to the surface. Blood was no longer a problem, but the fear of otherness, of being ostracized by those he cared about, still tempered his actions. And he was absolutely tired of it.

It was then that Regis made a vow to himself: If I live, If I become whole again, I will tell him the truth. He got his chance almost a decade later, when he was as whole as anyone could be after regenerating from nothing but dust and a drop of blood.

After Dettlaff was placated, no longer a danger to himself or others, Regis visited Geralt at Corvo Bianco. It was summer then, a season that saw him at the witcher’s door just as the last of the rows of sunflowers turned towards the sunlight in the midday heat.

He knocked on the front door, politeness dictating his actions. A disheveled witcher opened the door, familiar cat-eyes widening marginally at the sight of Regis, as close to a slack-jaw moment of surprise as anyone were bound to get from Geralt.

“Expecting someone else?” Regis teased, clutching the strap of his satchel as he crossed the threshold into Geralt’s home. He gave a cursory glance about the homestead--it had been decorated fairly well since the last time he visited to drop off the mutagenerator. In fact, the interior was downright cozy, a far cry from what he imagined a witcher keep to look like.

No matter what Geralt says, his years spent on the Path have influenced him. Only someone who expects to wake in the morning would bother to decorate their home--or to have a home at all.

The witcher shook his head, long, tangled locks spilling over his shoulders as he scratched tiredly at his beard. “Wasn’t expecting anyone. Thought if it was you though that you’d let yourself in.”

Regis held his tongue, wanting nothing more than to sit Geralt down and trim his beard. He knew from their time with the hansa that the witcher preferred to be clean-shaven, but hated trimming it himself. The vampire pushed the thought aside. “While I could have simply misted through your window, I didn’t wish to give you a fright.”

“How considerate,” Geralt said, voice rough but teasing. “You chose to wake me instead of letting yourself in.”

“I assumed you’d be awake. I didn’t realize that respectable vineyard owners slept in until noon.”

Geralt rolled his eyes at the well-natured jab before walking to his room, leaving the door open behind him. Regis remained in the foyer, focusing his attention on the rather impressive collection of witcher armor that Geralt had acquired. Yet, his supernatural hearing made it impossible not to eavesdrop to some extent; he heard the rustling of fabric and the soft thud of an article of clothing hitting the wooden floor.

“Hey, Regis,” Geralt drawled.

“Yes?” he replied a beat too quickly, turning towards the open door.

“...Gonna get in here? Or do I need to invite you into every room?”

Scrambling somewhat, the vampire entered just as Geralt tugged a clean white linen shirt over himself. At meeting the witcher’s gaze, the man gave a wide grin. “You came at a good time. I’ve actually got something for you. But close your eyes first.”

“Geralt, what are you--”

“Shh. Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

A brief flash of fond irritation flickered in Regis’ expression as he gave a long sigh, but obeyed, shutting his eyes. He listened to the tempo of Geralt’s heart-rate, the usual slow and steady rhythm having quickened by a few beats. Ah, so he’s excited, Regis mused. Even witcher mutations couldn’t rob him of the biochemistry of his sympathetic nervous system. Then, a sour thought: I hope this isn’t the last time I get to witness such a jovial mood.

The sound of his heartbeat grew stronger as the man approached, some sort of fabric draped in his arms, if the rustling earlier was any indication. Gently, Geralt placed the mystery item in Regis’ arms and backed away, the old floorboards creaking under his weight.

“Happy birthday, Regis.”

The vampire opened his eyes to see Geralt smiling warmly at him. Peering down, he couldn’t stop the look of absolute surprise upon his features, mouth agape.

“This is...” Regis trailed, fingers running delicately over the soft fabric, briefly pausing to rub his thumb against the black fur which lined the inside.

“It’s not the exact cloak, given what happened at Stygga Castle,” Geralt paused, briefly wincing at the horrid memory, “But I thought you’d appreciate a new one.”

Regis opened his mouth and then immediately closed it, unable to find the words to express how much the gift meant to him. You remembered... years passed and you still remembered.

“I know you can’t feel heat or cold like humans do, but...” he shrugged, a hint of sheepishness in his posture, a hand rising up to rub at the back of his neck. “It’s been weird not seeing you with one. You never took that damn thing off so I thought it must have meant something to you.”

“Geralt,” Regis finally replied once he found his voice again. It was the only warning he gave before the vampire laid the cloak on the bed and moved to seize the witcher in a tight embrace.

Geralt looped his arms around Regis’ back in return, chuckling. He made no attempt at ending the embrace even as the time spent pressed together stretched on. “So... guessing you liked the gift, huh?” he finally asked, leaning into the gentle swaying of their bodies.

When Regis spoke, it was barely past a whisper, but Geralt heard him all the same. “Thank you. Thank you for listening to me--for knowing me. Thank you, above all else, for being my friend.”

“I think I should be thanking you. All I got you was a cloak--but you helped bring Ciri home. Almost gave up your life. Can’t imagine that... risking your immortality for someone like me.”

“Geralt,” Regis started, pulling away to stare the witcher in the eyes, expression serious, “You are exactly the kind of person that inspires sacrifice. You have a noble heart and, despite your best attempts at proving otherwise, it is a heart full of compassion for others. I know you would have done the same if our roles had been reversed.”

The witcher was silent then. When he finally managed a response, he did so while clasping Regis’ shoulder. It was something the vampire had noticed ever since meeting Geralt again--the man was more tactile than he’d been before his regeneration. As if he was making sure that Regis was real. Alive. Of flesh and bone. Not something that would crumble at his touch or slip through his fingers like a ghostly apparition.

“I don’t know if I deserve your kind words, Regis. i haven’t always been... noble. There are things I haven’t told you about. Things that pertain to you.” At this, Geralt’s grip on his shoulder faltered and he pulled away suddenly, as if he were expecting to be hurt. “Truth is, I’ve been keeping a secret.”

Regis blinked in surprise, a retort resting on the tip of his tongue, but he paused. He noticed, for the first time, that Geralt did look genuinely nervous. Geralt had never looked nervous in his presence--at least not because of Regis. The thought left a sour taste in his mouth all the same.

The vampire took a step forward. If Geralt was also planning to tell him a long-kept secret, then he wanted to tell his own confession first. While he still had the courage to do so. “I too have kept something from you, Geralt. I hope we can still remain as close as we were after this... revelation, if you will. But I understand if you’d prefer some time away from me afterwards.”

“I doubt there’s anything you could say that would make me want you to keep your distance, Regis. Not after Stygga.”

Regis gave an attempt at a half-hearted chuckle. “Hearing you say that really warms my heart--especially the certainty in your voice--but I’m afraid that what I need to say will change the course of our relationship, for better or worse. You see, Geralt, I’m... quite fond of you.”

“I’m fond of you as well...” Geralt replied, confusion twisting his features. “Is that really your big secret?”

“Oh, for the love of--” Regis cut himself off, reaching instead with one hand to encircle Geralt’s wrist while the other cupped Geralt’s cheek. “I love you, you stubborn witcher. I’ve loved you for awhile now, really. Even before Stygga. You’re incredibly easy to fall in love with, though I see now that you’re completely oblivious to this trait.”

Regis’ hold was gentle, light--something Geralt could easily pull away from if he wished to. But he didn’t. Staring into his own reflection within the coal black of the vampire’s eyes, Geralt closed the gap between them, answering Regis’ confession with his own: a kiss.

Between kisses, Geralt paused, huffing out a short breath. “...You know, I’m feeling like a fool for not telling you that I loved you sooner, Regis.”

“Likewise. Which is not something I feel all that often.”

At this, they both laughed before resting their foreheads against each other. It had been a long road to this--to love--but it was well-earned. Later, Regis’ cloak found a home within a closet in Corvo Bianco. Though the weather in Toussaint was rarely cold enough to warrant a fur-lined cloak, Regis wore it as often as he could, but Geralt left an empty hanger in the closet all the same--just in case.

Seasons hadn’t meant much to Regis... but now, watching the morning sunlight from the bedroom window pool against the witcher’s back, he felt a tug of warmth at the first touch of Fall, at the chance of donning his cloak and the memory of the day it was gifted to him. He didn’t want to replace the painful memories, the memories of those he loved but lost, but he also knew that somewhere, surely, Milva, Cahir, and Angouleme were smiling down at them. And that was a sense of peace with his past that he wouldn’t trade for the world.

#geralt of rivia #emiel regis #tfw ur both in love but too oblivious to pick up the cues from the other person #& also take almost an entire decade to confess to each other #i swear they're both really smart intuitive ppl but put them together & it's like they have one brain cell #regis: i like you #geralt: oh i like you too. we're friends so that makes sense #regis: .....oh my god #geralt doesn't realize how easy he is to love & that's just sad™#this is basically really sad hansa thoughts that evolve into fluff w/ geralt/regis bc i have two settings & that's angst & pure happiness #so uhh yeah it really be like that sometimes #apologies for the emotional whiplash lmao #edit: i forgot the geralt/regis tag on this post alskdjfsfds #geralt/regis

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raendown · 4 years

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Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4794 Chapter: 33/42 Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

In a world where the Senju and Uchiha traditional lands were too far apart to have ever made them enemies, Butsuma and Tajima are the ones who come together and sign a treaty of peace. Madara isn’t happy to have his life signed away for him in a political marriage to strengthen the bond between their clans. He is even less happy to have Tobirama make assumptions of him from their very first night together. What follows from there is a journey of healing, of learning, and finding the places to belong in the places least expected.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

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Chapter 33

Acting like a normal human being for the rest of the night without blurting out his recent mind-bending revelation was, strangely, not quite as hard as he might have expected it to be. Tobirama did most of the work for him by staying distracted with their temporary ward and deciding to sleep when they tucked her in for the night as well. Since they had already set up a frankly overzealous amount of traps and barriers when they made camp earlier all Madara had to do was nod along and stumble over to his bedroll. After the girl fell asleep Tobirama rolled over and threw an arm around Madara's waist to pull him close the same way they always slept and Madara prayed to every god he knew that Tobirama wouldn’t hear the heart pounding in his chest, squeezing his eyes shut to wait for his husband to drop off as well so he could continue to let his mind boggle.

He was in love. Finally the certainty in his own emotions that he had been waiting for – and he couldn’t say it because there was a little child there just waiting to ruin his heartfelt moment.

Finding sleep was difficult when his heart felt so full; he was almost surprised his Sharingan didn’t spontaneously activate every other minute while the night hours whiled away. He dropped off eventually but it felt as though he merely blinked and morning had arrived. Thankfully Tobirama didn’t take his tiredness to be anything more than the usual morning grumps and when they set off on the road again he had managed to keep his tongue in check mostly by keeping quiet. Since neither of them were large chatterboxes that worked for most of the day as well.

He found a better distraction in their ward as she grew more and more excited the closer they got to the capital, recognizing major landmarks that told her she was going home. She pointed each of them out as they passed, babbling on every time with some story about her parents, and Tobirama at least pretended to listen the whole time. Madara wasn’t sure if he was actually listening but just that amount of effort was still heartwarming.

Gaining entry to the city wasn’t nearly as difficult as the last time Madara accompanied his father to present themselves before the Daimyo. Security had apparently grown lax since he was young. No wonder other children were going missing nowadays. Their ward didn’t know her own address and couldn’t give them better directions than “go home” once they stepped inside the city so, after a brief stop to discuss their plan of action, they decided it was best to simply bring her along and hope that someone in the palace would recognize her. If luck was truly on their side then perhaps one of her relatives would be there to take her off their hands.

“Otherwise we really will end up adopting early,” Tobirama muttered quietly in jest. Madara clutched at his thundering heart and tried to play it off as brushing dust from his clothing.

“If you’re adopting anyway,” he grumbled back, “I should think it would be Kagami.”

“His mother probably wouldn’t agree to that.”

Madara conceded the point but shooed his husband along, eager to get to their destination. The sooner they got this kid off their hands and got through all the pomp of their arrival the sooner they could be alone for him to spill his guts. He was probably going to embarrass himself terribly but at least it would be over with.

The Daimyo was great and all, a very important man, but nothing was more important to Madara at the moment than finally getting to speak the precious words every Uchiha saved for only one partner in their life. After so much agonizing over the dour possibility of never having these feelings he was more than ready to celebrate the happiness of experiencing them with the man he had already agreed to spend his life with.

When they arrived at the palace they were met with a small army of servants wanting to take their bags, cool their brows, offer them water, and just generally pamper them in the many ways any noble might expect. They allowed their bags to be taken away with instructions that they be placed in the same room with only one bed – Madara glared down the one serving boy who looked surprised – and asked if their lord required them to present themselves right away. As soon as the words were out of their mouths they were whisked off to meet with the one who called them here.

Less than half a dozen steps in to the receiving room where the Daimyo sat in comfort on a heavily embroidered cushion they were stopped by a woman’s voice shouting from the far corner.

“Chihiro!” She rushed towards them on shaking legs, her eyes wide and quickly gathering tears. At first sight of her the little girl between them pulled away from Tobirama and threw herself in to the woman’s arms.

“Kaachan! Kaachan!”

The woman sank to the floor and burst in to tears while the girl babbled obliviously, clearly happy to have been reunited with her mother, already recounting the tale of how she and her retainers had gone on what she called an adventure with some bad men. Madara watched the heart-wrenching scene unfold with a leaden fist around his heart. Too few families were blessed to experience moments like this in their own world; he was grateful to have helped even just one family see a happy ending.

“How fortuitous that you arrive now!” the daimyo called, raising his arms in a wide gesture. “Little Chihiro’s parents were only just asking my assistance in locating her and here you come to save the day. Wonderful! Welcome, my friends, welcome!”

Instead of a pompous greeting the two of them were immediately swept under by a wave of heartfelt thanks from the girl’s mother, interspersed with liberal praise from their lord. Madara soaked it in triumphantly. He’d made the journey expecting to sit in for someone else, unwanted and out of place, but now he was a hero in the nobles’ eyes and they had reason to celebrate him on his own merits. It was just the perfect cherry on top of the other ball of happiness still waiting to burst out of his chest at a moment’s notice.

Unfortunately for his confessional plans their grand entrance made such a stir that they were held up in a meeting with the daimyo for more than an hour and then separated so they could be prepared for a formal dinner. Both of them were assigned personal attendants and Madara's made such a fuss over having him look perfect for the feast that he didn’t have a single moment alone with his husband before they were led in to the hall and presented to the court as guests of honor, placed in seats so close to the head of the table he delighted in picturing his father grinding his teeth with jealousy. Even if the next few days were a misery of boredom this was worth it just for the chance to go home and tell his father every excruciating detail about how important he was for this one night.

Throughout the night he kept hoping the festivities would end soon so they might be allowed to go back to their room but after the dinner they were asked to stay and enjoy the geisha who arrived to entertain them with dancing and music. Madara would be the first to admit his manners weren’t perfect but he wasn’t so uncouth as to walk away from such an honor. When they were finally able to slip away back to their rooms the hour was so late they had just enough energy to undress themselves before curling up together in the bed and falling asleep.

Much of the next few days ran in a similar pattern. Every time Madara thought they might have a decent moment alone to talk they were interrupted or summoned to some new activity the Daimyo had planned. On the one hand he could sort of understand that the man was grateful they stopped a coup from happening, keeping his butt in the proverbial throne, but it seemed excessive to plan an entire week of celebrations that kept them so busy he couldn’t even make one simple confession to his own husband.

Well, he could have. It didn’t take much time to say three little words. But this felt like something that should be given proper gravitas and a little time to sink in, he didn’t really want to squeeze it in between bites of lunch or something.

He wasn’t given a break until the fourth day when the garden party neither of them were enjoying was interrupted by a minor nobleman arriving with urgent news for their lord. The daimyo excused himself with several apologies and invited the guests to continue their frivolity without him for the time being. Madara waited exactly three minutes after the man was gone, checked to make sure no one was paying them any attention, then dragged his husband away down the closest garden path. They disappeared behind the hedges and didn’t look back.

Tobirama was smiling at the back of his head, he could tell without having to turn around and look, but Madara ignored it as he continue to scurry between the rows of flora in search of a nice quiet place they could stand and talk. If they were going to be run ragged every day to the point where they had little energy to do more than crawl in to bed and pass out then he was going to jump on this chance and make no apologies about it. Thankfully for his sanity they didn’t encounter so much as a gardener on their way. Madara wasn’t sure what he would have done if the paths were full of people. He stopped after several minutes of tugging his husband along, rounding a corner to find a quaint little koi pond with a carved stone bench to one side just the perfect size for two people to sit together.

Which is what he did, dropping down on to one half and unceremoniously pulling a bemused Tobirama down with him.

“Something on your mind, anata?”

“Don’t take that teasing tone with me! But, uh, yes.” Madara opened his mouth and then immediately snapped it shut as he realized that, for all the time he’d spent mourning the lack of opportunity to do this, he’d never actually taken a moment to figure out what he should say.

“Take your time,” Tobirama said.

Choking down his nerves, Madara nodded to himself and dragged his eyes up to meet the pretty red ones looking back at him patiently. Someone a little more cultured than him would probably have some fancy way of laying it all out. All he had in his head were three words. Pressed for time and a little out of his depth, Madara decided that honesty was probably the best policy and he should say something quickly before he started looking like a crazy person.

“I love you,” he blurted, rushing onwards as Tobirama’s eyes widened comically. “It just kind of hit me while you were taking care of Chihiro but we’ve been so busy ever since and there was never a second for me to say anything but it’s been killing me not to.”

“You…?” Tobirama’s voice had never been so soft. Just hearing the disbelief in his voice had Madara blushing and babbling onwards.

“And I’m really sorry it took me forever to figure out my own feelings. It’s just that I’ve never been in love before! Not even close to it! So I just wasn’t sure if that’s what I was feeling or if it was supposed to be different. But then you were smiling and being so good with that little girl and it just kind of crashed in to me like a doton; I’ve never had a religious experience before but I sort of imagine it would be like that, you know?”

“Peace, anata.”

His jaw snapped shut again with just as much nervous energy as before. Madara twitched and resisted the impulse to dig his toes in to the dirt shyly while his husband continue to stare at him with naked awe. Just when he thought they might sit there all day doing nothing but looking in to each other’s eyes Tobirama lifted both hands to cup the sides of his face.

“Will you say it again?” he asked very quietly.

“Oh. I- I love you.”

Tobirama said nothing in return. The look on his face was beyond words but he spoke with his actions instead, as he so often preferred to do, leaning over to press their lips together in a deep kiss that said everything he couldn’t just then. Madara sank in to it with a moan. Everything in him felt lighter for having finally said the words he’d been holding in for days.

From the tips of his toes to the very top of his head Madara felt almost as though he were being slowly charged with static electricity. As relief drained the tension from his body he could feel it gradually being replaced by a strange sort of triumphant energy, the urge to stand on a rooftop and crow his victory because this was everything he had ever wanted, everything an Uchiha could dream of. A husband that loved him whom he loved so deeply in return, a happy home together. Hands to hold through the longest nights. When he was old and gray Tobirama would be there at his side and knowing that was a warm feeling, a happy yearning, so different from the bitter cold dread that had filled him when they were first betrothed.

“You cannot know what those words mean to me,” Tobirama whispered against his mouth before taking it again in another desperate kiss.

“I think I might be able to guess,” he managed to say when they parted again.

“Do you know how many times I have wanted to say that to you?”

“You could say it now.”

So he did. Madara flushed and eventually had to look away as Tobirama murmured the words to him again and again, brushing kisses against his neck and whispering in his ear like a proper pair of lovers. For such a reserved man he certainly could pull out the romance when he wanted to. Who would have thought he could be as sappy as his brother?

Not that Madara could say he was any better at the moment. Some fierce warrior he must look like with his eyes shining and his heart fairly beating out of his chest.

In the end it was the distant sound of laughter that made them remember where they were. Caught up in each other’s lips yet again, fingers tangled in hair, they pulled apart to look over in the direction of what sounded like one of the daimyo’s daughters. If they could hear her that well she must have snuck up quite close while they weren’t paying attention to their surroundings. It also meant that the other party attendants were starting to branch out in to the garden while their host was distracted and this private little alcove was about to be a lot less private.

“Great,” Madara grumbled. “Back to the celebrations then. You know, if he wanted to give us proper thanks then maybe he should have asked whether we even enjoy public events like this. Because neither of us do. A week alone would have been much nicer than all this crap.”

“Do not think this is the end of this conversation. I don’t care how tired we are when the day ends, I’m not done with you just yet.” Tobirama lifted one eyebrow to punctuate how serious he was but the most interesting part of his expression was the curl of his lips and everything they promised with just one little smirk. Quite suddenly Madara found himself breathless all over again.

Unable to respond to that without embarrassing himself, too afraid of the colors he might turn if he asked what the man meant by that, all he could do was nod and spring to his feet without another word. They wandered arm in arm back the way they had come until they could feel underdeveloped civilian chakra only a few feet away then separated just before a few partygoers rounded a corner and greeted them with alcohol heavy on their breath. Someone must have opened another bottle of plum wine while they were gone.

If he’d thought all the days before were hard to get through while keeping his silence Madara realized now that he hadn’t known what true torture was. Feeling Tobirama’s gaze on him for the rest of the day, meeting eyes in silence and knowing even a fraction of what was running through that beautiful mind, he’d never been so close to driving himself insane. Every time they brushed up against each other in even the most innocent of ways had his entire body on fire. His mouth was dry and his fingers twitching, heart racing inside his chest as the memory of what happened in the garden played through his mind on repeat again and again and again. If his life depended on it he could not have recalled more than five minutes collectively of what happened for the rest of the many hours they were forced to stay out and be polite for the public eye.

Whether Tobirama was able to keep track of their surroundings Madara couldn’t say but for himself he knew only that they were led to another room inside the palace after the Daimyo finally returned and that several people attempted to draw him in to conversation, all of whom probably left with the impression that he had lost what little there had ever been of his mind. Not that he cared in the slightest what any of these people thought of him. It wasn’t like he was someone who typically attracted a lot of potential clientele to their village anyway.

Dinner, when it was finally late enough, was another kind of special anguish. With the windows dark and the room lit by candles the atmosphere was almost romantic, giving Madara terrible gushy urges to lean in to his husband’s side or make a fool of himself with the sort of nonsense mushy drivel usually reserved for terrible poetry. In retrospect he later decided it was a good thing he was prevented from such mortifying actions but in the moment it was only irritating not being able to follow through on the hot-eyed looks they traded each time they were unobserved. No boring small talk over dinner could ever hold his interest quite like the feeling of Tobirama tracing the edges of his palm out of sight under the table.

Just the same as all the other days since they arrived in the capital, they were finally released from socializing only long after the moon had risen and they were both dragging their feet as they trudged through the hallways to the room they shared. All that kept Madara's eyes from drooping was the electricity that had been buzzing in his veins since that afternoon as he waited impatiently until the moment they could be alone.

Slipping inside the room and closing the door felt almost like stepping in to a whole other world after holding so much tension for so long. The complete silence and lack of other bodies crowding the space left him mentally scrambling for a way to describe the opposite of claustrophobia – until he very quickly had other things on his mind. Madara gasped as Tobirama’s hands grasped his shoulders and spun him around, pushing until he stumbled back against the wall and continuing forward until they were crashing together in a frantic kiss.

Almost immediately his fingers were hopelessly tangled in fistfuls of silver hair, a lewd sound escaping that would have made him curl away with shame if he weren’t so entirely invested in pulling his husband closer. Tobirama seemed more than okay with this plan. If Madara had experienced any doubts about whether the man was as eager as himself they would have been tossed out the window the moment he heard his reticent partner make the single most frantic sound he had ever heard in his life, a whining moan that sounded as though it had been dragged up from the very base of his spine. The sound of it sent shivers racing down Madara's own spine and made him gasp in to their kiss.

“Say it again,” Tobirama demanded in a breathy whisper, syllables broken with each ragged pant for air.

“I love you.” Each time they passed his lips the words tasted sweeter and sweeter.

“Gods.”

The next thing he knew the room was spinning as Tobirama pulled them away from the wall and sent them tumbling down on to the bed, crawling over him like a predator.

“Okay not the reaction I was expecting but I can go with this,” Madara chuckled nervously.

“Mm and I do so appreciate your cooperation,” his partner leered.

As unexpected as it was to be almost literally tossed on to the bed he couldn’t say he was in any way against this turn of events. Having Tobirama’s body push him against a wall was an entirely different sensation than feeling all six feet of solid muscle pressing him down in to the mattress, their legs entwined and two strong arms bracketing either side of his head. Madara had spent the entirety of his almost twenty-two years of life thinking himself the prime example of an alpha male. It was a surprise now to discover just how much he enjoyed being pinned by his confident husband.

It was also a surprise to feel an unmistakable hardness against his thigh and know that Tobirama’s thoughts were running along quite similar paths to his own, although probably still very different. He was, after all, the only one between them with any experience in these matters. More than anything it was the fact that it was a foreign sensation which made him jerk away with a startled expression.

“What’s wrong?” Tobirama asked, freezing in place immediately until he understood the sudden shift.

“Nothing!” Madara bit nervously at his lip. “I just…you…I can feel…” Just blurting out that he could feel the man’s cock felt incredibly awkward and yet he had no idea how else to phrase it. His point must have gotten across somehow, though.

“Ah. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Instead of leaning in to kiss him again the idiot pulled away and began to frown, which just would not do. Madara squirmed with a frown of his own which definitely was not a pout in any way. “You’re not making me uncomfortable,” he said.

“Are you certain of that? Because you can’t look me in the eye right now.”

“Well excuse me for being embarrassed! This is new to me! And I wanted- shut up!”

“No, you were going to say something there,” Tobirama insisted.

“It was nothing!”

Eyeing him doubtfully, his husband very carefully shifted so the hardness against his thigh was lifted entirely away. “There was definitely something.”

“Fine! I wanted…it to go well. I know the way you grew up this sort of thing didn’t have any great meaning but to my people giving yourself to someone is important, it’s showing them that you can truly be vulnerable in their presence without fear, and I’ve built it up in my head. A lot. And I might be a little worried about messing it up.”

Clearly that was nothing close to the answer Tobirama was expecting. Madara shifted and squirmed a bit more under the weight of the unreadable eyes staring down at him. Both of them having danced around this subject to avoid the possibility of pressure of making each other uncomfortable in any way, he’d never had a chance to admit some of the fears that had been on his mind whenever he thought about the fact that someday they would lie together as married couples do. Most of those fears revolved around the fact that he was the one who had no idea what he was doing and that made him the one likely to do something utterly stupid.

Like he was already doing, ironically, as he had apparently ruined the mood.

“Anata, it’s alright if you’re not ready.”

“What?”

Tobirama leaned down to rest their foreheads together. “Just because you said the words I don’t expect it to be like flipping a switch. If you’re not ready that’s fine. I didn’t mean to paw at you like an animal. Not being able to kiss you all day has been driving me wild; I may have gotten a little too enthusiastic.”

“I never said I wasn’t ready!” Madara insisted, his cheeks hot and his throat tight. “I just want to...to do it right!”

“You could hardly do anything wrong.”

“Easy for you to say. You know me, I’ll probably trip and fall out of the bed or something. This isn’t even our bed!” He was still very definitely not pouting.

His husband, on the other hand, was now smiling very gently. “Perhaps it would be best to put this subject on hold until we do return to our own bed then. When we’re home in a place where you feel more comfortable then we can talk about it, yes?”

“Talking is not what I have been imagining,” Madara grumbled. Then he regretted it when he was met with another leer.

“I will freely admit to being very interested in whatever you’ve been imagining. We’ll have to come back to that when we have a chance to talk about this again.”

Mortified, Madara wriggled both hands between their bodies so he could push the man away. If he were honest it was the last thing he wanted to be separated right then but Tobirama was right about one thing. He would be a lot more at ease in their bed. As comfortable as this one was and as cushy as it had been lavishing themselves in the opulence of the capital city he would always prefer the house in which the two of them had fought hard to make a proper home. This was not the place he wanted to have solidified in his memories whenever he remembered their first time.

Sitting up and scrubbing at the back of his neck, Madara reluctantly admitted they should be going to sleep anyway. Inevitably they would be woken earlier than desired tomorrow and invited to yet another breakfast with too many dishes to ever be properly appreciated in one sitting. His usual routine when getting ready for bed involved closing himself away in the bathroom to change his clothes but it felt almost ridiculous to do so when he had very nearly just taken them off for the man beside him. Yet the idea of just stripping himself naked after they had decided now was not the time seemed like it would be a tease more than anything else.

“Can you turn around?” he asked quietly. Tobirama did so with a look that made it clear to Madara how significant a moment that was for his husband, like a barrier being crossed, like trust held out between two palms and given freely without regrets.

After he had changed he rolled under the covers and buried his face in the pillow, trying not to blush as he heard the rustling sounds of Tobirama briefly getting naked only a handful of feet away from him. When the rustling stopped it was followed by footsteps and then more rustling as the mattress dipped and his husband slid in behind him to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him backwards. Embarrassingly, his first thought was to note that Tobirama was actually still a little hard. Not quite as noticeably but still enough that he had to have a very firm talk with himself very quickly about not bringing attention to things they had agreed not to talk about for now. Then, of course, Tobirama went and emptied his head of every other thought with only three words whispered in his ear.

“I love you,” he said, sending thrills all throughout Madara's body.

To say them back with absolute confidence was the greatest joy and honor.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #fanfiction

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bxcksdoll · 5 years

Text

Jet Lagged

Pairings: Thor x reader

Summary: Y/N has stayed at the Avengers Tower for while whist Thor has been staying in New Asguard. They haven’t seen each other in weeks and desperately miss each other.

Warnings: swearing

A/N: I had this idea because I’m still a little jet lagged haha and @xmarveled said I should write this (thank you so much for the support bby!!) so hope you guys enjoy :)

Three weeks. That was the amount of time you’d been away from him. Your boyfriend. Your love. Thor.

After the universe was saved from Thanos, you had some unfinished business to attend to back at the Avengers Tower; you hadn’t planned on it taking weeks - only one at most. Sadly, it had taken much longer than expected and you hadn’t been able to see Thor, in that time.

Thor had been in New Asguard helping Valkyrie in her new role as Queen. He had been supporting her this whole time whist he helped the people of New Asguard. You had exchanged messages back and forth, in the time you were separated. Mostly, Thor would be begging you to join him back in New Asguard and you would tell him, time after time, that you still had some work to do.

During the five years after the snap, you constantly moved back and forth from New York to New Asguard; you stayed with Thor but also had to help Natasha protect what was left of the world. The two of you, and also other Avengers scattered around the globe, managed the crime and justice on Earth. It was an extremely tiring job but it had to be done. Thor had tried to convince you that it wasn’t your responsibility but you couldn’t accept that; after losing most of your family, you felt it was your duty to continue to protect what was left.

After Thanos was defeated, you would have thought your work would die down a bit, however some mob gangs seemed to never tire. You promised Thor that you would take a break once you’d tracked down a gang, located in Colombia, with Natasha.

Thor, day after day, waited for you to finally give up working and come home to him. Dispite being among friends, in New Asguard, he always felt lonely when you left - as if a piece of him had left with you. He would never have told you, of course, because he didn’t want to be a burden on you.

Secretly, you and Natasha had finally confronted and arrested the gang but you hadn’t told Thor. You were on your way across the Atlantic Ocean to him, planning on surprising him. You felt rather guilty every time you left but told yourself that this time you wouldn’t leave his side - if you had to go back to New York you’d convince him to come with you. Both of you were sick of the long distance.

One of the main problems with the long distance was time zones; there was always 6 hours between the two of you and so you caught each other at different times. You’d wake up while he was asleep and he would wake up when you were busy working. Then, after you finished working he was usually doing his duties in New Asguard. Finally, you’d get to have a short convocation before you would end it by needing to sleep. That didn’t happen most days but more often than the two of you wished. But now you wouldn’t be stuck in different time zones - you’d be together and wouldn’t have to worry about it again.

Stepping off the plane, you winced at the sunlight burning painfully through your eye lids. In Norway it was 10am but, to you, it was 4am and you weren’t able to get any sleep on the plane.

When it came to flying, you could never sleep which had always been extremely inconvenient since you were always travelling between Norway and America. Jet lag was always a darkness looming above you - your sleep pattern was already fucked up and travelling fucked it up even more.

Moreover, after flying your head felt pressurised and dizzy while your stomach filled with painful knots. You dreaded the day when you would step on another plane.

As you arrived in Norway, your heart filled with utter content and enthusiasm to see Thor. At the airport, you jumped in a taxi and set off for New Asguard.

One of your favourite features of your home was the scenery - you never grew tired of it. The Scandinavian sights were breathtakingly idilic and, somewhat, Edenic. The atmosphere that surrounded the landscape was serene and yet overwhelmed your senses with passion and excitement.

Thor had placed New Asguard far away from any other villages or cities - he only wished for peace and calamity in his new found Haven. Therefore, it was quite a trek from the airport which wasn’t helpful to you as your eyelids kept dragging down during the car journey. However, the sun kept you awake, mercilessly

Most of the drive was a fight against your eyelids but, finally, you had arrived at New Asguard. Stepping out of the taxi, after paying, you were met with the smiling faces of Asguardians passing you by. Many greeted you, welcoming your unexpected return home.

You made your way through the villiage to the house you and Thor shared. Before you reached it, you spotted Valkyrie loading some crates into a truck.

“Hey, Val!” you shouted, waving as she turned at the sound of her name.

“...Y/N?” she replied, hesitantly. The two of you glided closer, sealing your greeting with a tight hug. “What are you doing here? Thor said you wouldn’t return for another week.”

“I wanted to surprise him,” you smiled at her.

“He’ll be thrilled,” she grinned back.

“I hope so,” you giggled while rubbing your, still droopy, eye lids. “Do you know where he is?”

“He’s playing video games with Korg and Meek again,” she rolled her eyes but then focused on you, seriousness apparent on her features. “Are you alright?”

“Me? Yeah I’m fine,” you yawned. “Just a little jet lagged I guess - it feels like 4am for me.”

“Oh, of course,” Valkyrie nodded. “Maybe you should get some sleep before seeing Thor - he can be very loud and irritating,” she joked.

“That’s a good idea,” you laughed as she accompanied you over to the little hut Thor always hung out with Korg and Meek in.

You and Valkyrie stopped at the door and she knocked loudly. Soon after, a familiar voice was heard from inside.

“I told you to leave me alone this morning, Valkyrie, I’m busy here!” The shout came. You and Valkyrie exchanged a smug look and she gestured for you to go inside.

Slowly and cautiously, you opened the door as Valkyrie followed behind you.

“I have someone here to see you, Thor. Someone I know you’d very much like to see,” she called from behind you as the two of you, quietly walked over the heaps of trash on the floor.

“There’s no one I wish to see! Send them away!” Thor commanded, in a frustrated voice.

Finally, stepping into the room you took notice of Thor, Korg and Meek playing together on some video game with mountains of junk food around them. Thor was sat in a pair of sweatpants and socks; he was shirtless as his protruding stomach - which he was usually so self-conscious about - exposed itself. None of the three even bothered to glance up at you or Valkyrie.

“You wouldn’t send me all the way back to New York, now would you?” you smirked, leaning against the door frame.

Thor’s head shot up at your voice. He dropped his game controller with a thud and lunged himself out of his chair, towards you. He captured you in his arms, picking you off the floor and peppering kisses all over your face.

“I’ve missed you with all my heart, Y/N! I can’t believe you’re here!” he yelled, causing your head to ache due to the loud, unexpected noise. Valkyrie was right, maybe you should have slept before seeing Thor.

“I’ve missed you too, sweetie,” you giggled.

As he placed you back down, you held his handsome face in your hands and brought his lips to yours in a hungry, passionate kiss that you had both longed for for weeks. He moaned against your mouth, his tongue savouring every inch of yours he could get.

As you broke apart for breath, you heard Korg mumble, “maybe we should leave these two love birds alone, eh, Meek?”

Thor turned to them, thanking the two and Valkyrie as well. After they left, he turned back to you, placing his large hand on your delicate cheek. You were so precious to him - his whole world.

For a moment, all his attention was on you until he realised he wasn’t wearing a shirt. “Oh,” he mumbled and brought his arms around his stomach to cover himself slightly. Even after all these years together, he was still insecure when you saw him like this.

“Thor, what are you doing?” you squinted, trying to remove his arms from his stomach.

“Nothing,” he smiled. “I’m just a little underdressed for you, that’s all.”

“Sweetie, please don’t be embarrassed. I love you for who you are and I don’t mind how you look! We’ve been over this, Thor,” you assured him, placing your arms around the back of his neck.

This made Thor perk up slightly, grinning down at you. “Thank you, Y/N. You always know exactly what to say, my love.”

You smiled up at him as he brought his face down to yours and rested his forehead upon yours. Your noses touched and your heart soared from this loving, physical connection.

The two of you closed your eyes in content and comfort, finally reunited. However, you closed your eyes in more than content - you were so relaxed that your eyelids had finally lost the determined fight to stay awake. As you drifted off, your body moved closer to Thor’s as your legs went limp. Luckily, Thor caught you just in time as your body pressed flat against his. He held you in his arms and supported you while shaking your shoulders.

“Uh, Y/N?” he asked, in confusion.

“What?” you snapped awake, eyes wide.

“You fell asleep,” Thor laughed, quirking an eyebrow.

“What are you talking about? No I didn’t,” you lied, your eyes starting to feel droopy again.

“Yes you did, you just fell onto me,” Thor chuckled as you almost fell again. “You’re jet lagged, aren’t you?”

You hesitated, scoffing at his words. Then, you looked silently at him as your features lost their smile. “Maybe just a little bit,” you croaked.

Thor chuckled, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Come, let’s get you onto the sofa.” He guided you towards it but you refused to move, shaking your head ferociously.

“No, this place stinks! I don’t wanna sleep on that filthy thing!” you argued and Thor laughed.

“Then can you walk from here to the house?” he questioned.

“Of course I can. It’s not that far away from here,” you replied, waving a hand in the air.

“Alright, then,” Thor chuckled, once again, and let go of you. For a moment, you felt as though you could crumble to the floor but then repositioned your posture and began walking out the door - more like stumbling.

Thor followed behind you, shaking his head in laughter. “I can’t watch this.” Just then, he moved in front of you, ducking down and picking you up by your legs proceeding to throw you over his shoulder.

“Thor!” you laughed. “I’m fine, honestly,” you defended.

“No you’re not. I’m not going to let you fall over. Instead, I’m going to take you home and make sure you’re alright.” His words made your stomach flood with butterflies.

“I’ve missed this,” you mumbled as he carried you down the cobbled paths of New Asguard.

Tag list: @xmarveled

#thor x reader #chubby! thor #thor imagine #thor one shot #marvel #thor #thor odinson #marvel imagine #avengers

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mcwriting · 5 years

Text

starstruck (4)

Here it is... finally! It’s ~angsty~ but it was really fun to write.

I will say, I realized while writing this that the timeline of this fic is sooooo short but hey, its fiction, so I guess anything can happen lol. I tried to resolve it in later chapters but it’s definitely quick moving in these initial chapters.

There’s a lot of italics in this one lol

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Fandom: Thomas Stanley Holland

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader (eventual)

Setting: LA in general

Word Count: 2240 yeet

Warnings: angst, some mild language

Rating: still k+ right now

Last time on starstruck...

“Hey what’s going on? Uh huh. No, we actually have it handled. I might or might not be with her right now… no it’s fine. Seriously, we are laying low! We’re on the way to the hotel right now. Alright, alright I’ll see what I can do. See you in a few.”

And with that, he hung up, turned to you, and said, “That was my manager. Apparently we’ve got a problem.”

__________________________________

You pulled underneath the awning of the posh hotel Tom was boarding at, the kind of place you only dreamed of staying.

Sure, your family wasn’t poor, but your parents definitely weren’t the type of people to spend a lot of money on hotels. They claimed to enjoy spending more money on the “fun” parts of vacations than where you slept at night.

To each their own, you supposed.

Tom wanted you to come inside, per request of his manager, so you figured you would drop him off and park so you wouldn’t be seen together.

The valet had other plans, however, pulling you out of the car and exchanging your keys with a numbered slip of paper.

It all happened so fast that for a moment you just stood there, stunned. You snapped out of it when the man began to drive off and Tom grabbed you to lead you inside.

The lobby was massive and covered with marble flooring. A large, plush rug covered many of the tiles and on top of it sat some luxurious couches and armchairs, framing a huge TV on the wall.

On the other side was a long marble counter that seated hotel staff, who stood at the ready upon seeing Tom.

You also couldn’t help but note the smell, a light, sweet floral scent wafting through the air pleasantly.

This must be rich people scent you thought to yourself.

Due to the nature of it being midday, very few people were seen in the lobby, and Tom led you straight through to a hallway and past the main elevators, his hand resting on your lower back the entire time.

“I have access to a service lift so less people will see,” he explained, as if he’d just read your confused mind.

You walked briskly with Tom through the winding hall, finally ending up at the alternate elevator, where he swiped his key card and the doors slid open with a few creaks.

You tapped your foot nervously as you passed floor by floor, letting go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding upon reaching the top.

Once again, you followed behind Tom through the hall and to his room. You stood awkwardly in the doorway, clenching onto the straps of your beach bag, as he entered to find more suitable clothing.

After disappearing for a moment, he popped his head back out.

“You can come in, you know. This might take a few minutes.”

You stepped further into his suite, making your way to the sliding doors attached to a balcony. Looking out you could see Los Angeles in full light, the people and cars below feeling so out of reach, like nothing you had ever experienced in your city.

You seemed so out of place in the heavily decorated room still in beach clothing and legs covered in sand.

You could hear Tom rummaging through the drawers and walked over, giving a gentle knock on the open door.

“Having trouble, twinkle toes?” you joked at the way he pillaged through his clothes. He smiled at your commentary.

“Maybe a bit. Do you need anything? A drink, snack? The fridge is stocked so take anything you like.”

You were surprised at his generosity and at how little he cared about paying for that stuff. In your family, everything in the hotel room was off limits if it wasn’t free.

“I think I’m good but do you mind if I use your restroom? I really need to rinse this sand off and put on some real clothes.”

“Go right ahead,” he gestured to the bathroom door.

The bathroom was also massive, especially for a hotel. The shower thankfully had a handheld spray head so you were able to just target and rinse your legs. You tugged on some athletic shorts and a loose tank top to replace your former garments.

You quickly used the toilet too and went to wash your hands, not believing how many fancy soaps and lotions covered the counter.

As you lathered, a small bottle caught the corner of your eye. It was a light yellowish color and read “OBSESSION for men.”

Of course he would wear Calvin Klein cologne. Now I know.

You finished up and made a final once over in the mirror, fixing some stray hairs in your ponytail and opening up the door.

You stopped in your tracks as your eyes laid upon Tom, who was shirtless with his back to you, the elastic of his underwear poking out of his pants’ waistline.

“You’re a pretty big fan of Calvin Klein, huh?” you asked, referring to both the cologne and his boxers. He turned around, giving you a view of his bare chest, which didn’t disappoint, a fact that you pretended was annoying.

“Hah, yeah. I really want to do an ad campaign with them if you couldn’t tell,” he bent over to pick up a shirt from the bed and toss it on.

“Well with the cologne and underwear you’re pretty much a walking billboard.”

“You like the cologne?” he asked, causing your face to heat up. You knew a blush was present and probably obvious, so you decided not to lie.

“Yeah, actually I do. It’s a nice scent. It also happens to be all over my bed right now thanks to a certain someone,” you tipped down your chin and raised an eyebrow accusingly.

“You want it? The company actually sent me like… eight bottles and a bunch of clothes not too long ago after I posted on Instagram about them. I can’t get rid of them fast enough,” he offered, walking towards you.

“What? No! I couldn’t just take that from you. What would I tell my friends when they see men’s cologne bottle in my room? I can’t say ‘oh yeah Tom Holland gave it to me’ and it would be majorly out of character to tell everyone that it’s what you wear.”

He went past you into the bathroom and rummaged through a toiletry bag, muttering an “aha!” when he pulled out another bottle identical to the one on the counter, except this was sealed and full.

“Seriously Tom I can’t just tak-” you started when he dropped the bottle into your bag.

“Whoops,” he quipped, “no take backs. Now your bed can forever smell like me”

You were ready to argue again (with an undeniable smile on your face) when there was a loud rapping on the main door.

Tom grimaced at you to wordlessly send a message of ‘prepare yourself’ as he took a deep breath in and headed out of his bedroom. You silently followed into the living room and watched Tom open the door, where a well dressed man and woman pair stood talking.

__________________________________

At first you and Tom together discussed the plan you had made at the beach with his manager and publicist, neither of whom seemed to like the idea very much.

They asked to speak with Tom privately, so you relocated back into the bedroom and sat on the side of his bed, reminiscing on how the roles were almost reversed compared to only two evenings prior.

You were only in there for about ten minutes, but it seemed like hours. You were too anxious to mess with your phone and instead looked out his window.

There was a quiet knock on the door before Tom opened it. You recognized the steely look in his eyes and the way his jaw was clenched.

He motioned for you to come out, and almost immediately after stepping into the living room his manager started talking to you.

“So, y/n, right? I’m gonna have to give this to you straight. You cannot be seen with my client ever again,” she stated bluntly, “it’s nothing against you, of course, but Tom here needs to maintain a ‘single’ rep until this movie is no longer in theatres and frankly you’re jeopardizing the whole thing.”

Your eyebrows shot up and you weren’t happy to hear this woman’s feigned criticisms.

“I’m sorry, but Tom is the one who sought me out. I never liked him, you could ask any person who knows me and they would tell you the same. I’m only here because Tom asked me to meet him about getting rid of this whole ‘scandal’ or whatever you want to call it. So if anyone is jeopardizing Tom, it’s himself.”

The publicist took a step forward.

“Look, miss y/n, it’s really nothing against you, we just want to maintain his image, and the best way to do so would be for us to go online and tell everyone he helped you get medical attention for an injury, which we all know is true, and end it at that. It makes Tom look like a hero, and you’ll be popular for weeks with your peers I’m sure,” he explained, angering you further.

“I never asked for this. I don’t want attention. I don’t want the world, or more importantly my best friend, to find out I’ve been lying about the guy I used to hate. Do you realize how many rumors this will fuel? This is ridiculous and I can’t allow you to put out my information like this.”

“Oh, well. Too bad. I just sent the tip to TMZ and they’re posting the story tonight,” he replied, “and Tom is going live on Instagram at 4:00 to address it the way we told him to and you two can’t be seen together again. Text all you want like you have been, but no public contact. Unless of course we want to do a ‘girl saved by hero reunites with him’ thing. Oh man would that look so good-”

“I’m done. This is so sick. Tom,” you looked directly into his eyes, “never contact me again, you disgusting cheap sellout bastard,” you spat, a fire in your own eyes like nothing anyone had ever seen from you.

“Y/n I-“ he began, but you were already heading to the door. You could hear footsteps behind you and the door slam shut but you kept power walking towards the main elevators, hoping they were the opposite direction from which you and Tom initially came.

“Wait!” he cried out, finally catching up and grabbing your elbow.

You threw his hand off but stopped moving forward and instead spun around to face him. Tears had made their way down your cheeks by now and you weren’t any happier to be so vulnerable in front of Tom.

Never in your life did or expect the next (or even last) guy you’d cry over would be Tom Holland.

“Y/n, please listen,” he pleaded, his face was also red, as if he were going to cry himself. You stood firm and gave him an expectant glare, so he continued.

“I don’t want to do this, I really don’t. Please understand that I have to, though, no matter how much this hurts. We can still talk. I was so drawn to you the second I saw you in that crowd just last week and I could’ve never imagined how close you could become in the short amount of time we’ve known each other. Please, babe, I don’t want to lose you.”

Anger flashed inside of you again and you felt your chest tighten at the bomb he’d just dropped..

“Do you really, Tom? Do you really care? Because to me it sounds like you actually have a choice here, but you’re too much of a pushover to do what’s right. If you really cared, you wouldn’t do this to me. I was serious back there. Don’t talk to me again, and definitely don’t call me babe if you do.”

“I’m so, so sorry, y/n,” Tom’s voice finally broke, and you could see the way his lip quivered as he continued, “I’m sorry I ever got you into this mess.”

“Me too,” you whispered.

You wiped more stray tears and turned, looking back one last time into the face of the broken-hearted celebrity, hoping it was the last time you would ever see his face, but knowing it wouldn’t be the end of it.

__________________________________

You exited the elevator, which you were glad was empty. More tears had fallen on the journey down and you mustered up everything you could to stop them, at least until you were off the premises of the hotel.

Though knowing you looked like a wreck, you walked through the hotel lobby with head held high, looking straight forward at the large front doors.

Your numbered ticket was in hand and you gladly gave it to the valet so he could pull up your car.

It was getting harder to hold it together as you waited. Finally, he appeared and parked the car in front of you.

He held out the keys and then stood directly in front of you, silently pleading for a tip, even though he could probably see the obvious anguish on your face.

Finally, you gave in, rolling your eyes as you dug through your bag for a spare $5 bill and slapped it into his hand with disdain.

“How kind. Have a nice day, ma’am!” he voiced cheerily.

You fought the urge to flip him off as you sat down in the driver’s seat and began the journey back home, dread filling your stomach the closer home became.

__________________________________

A/N: yeehaw that was a fun time. Next chapter is angsty too sorry I don’t make the rules... :)

Tag List: @marvel-lously, @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl

#starstruck #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland dancing #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #spider-man #spiderman #spider man #Spider Man: Homecoming #tom holland spider man #SPIDER MAN: FAR FROM HOME #SPIDER MAN FAR FROM HOME #sm:ffh #MARVEL FANDOM #marvel

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thesmellofstorms · 5 years

Text

SKAM France fanfic part 1/2 (cross posted on AO3)

On Monday morning, Lucas felt on the verge of collapsing. His roommates and Manon had talked and laughed obnoxiously loudly until 2 am, and they had of course chosen to do so in the living room instead of going to a bar. So Lucas, who had been relegated to the couch, was unable to go to sleep while they were at it.

He had tried a few times to get them to leave, pointing out that he had to go to school early in the morning, but his complaints had fallen on deaf ears. Manon had thrown a few apologetic looks his way during the night but Lucas, who had been watching videos on his phone trying not to fall asleep, had pretended not to notice. If she had been feeling so guilty for preventing him to go to “bed”, she could have said something to Mika and her cousin, even more so since it was the second night in a row they spent “reuniting”, as they nicely put it.

As pathetic as it sounded, If he had not had the prospect of seeing Eliott that day, he was honestly not sure he would have been able to get up from the couch to get to class.

He was exhausted, and he hoped he would be able to hide it. He understood as soon as he joined his friends that it would be an impossible feat. Basil didn’t seem to notice anything was amiss, but Arthur was staring at him with concern and Yann asked him straight out.

“Man, are you okay? You look half-dead.”

“Well, thanks… that’s flattering.”

Yann, the pure soul that he was, winced. “Sorry… but you kinda do. What happened?”

“I didn’t get much sleep. I’ll be fine though”, Lucas informed.

He didn’t feel like elaborating. He never really did. Plus, right now he had to spare what little energy he still had, and he was certain that evoking his roommates would make him angry and bitter.

“Right…” Yann replied, before Basil started talking about Daphne again.

Lucas rolled his eyes, but he was glad for the distraction. He didn’t want to be the centre of attention.

Eliott saw Lucas in the yard during break and went to him, since they had agreed by text that they would see each other at school.

“Hey, dude!” He greeted, instantly regretting it when he saw Lucas’ face. He hadn’t said it to be petty. He had meant it as a joke, since Lucas and he were okay now after what had happened on Saturday night.

Lucas obviously had not taken it the right way though. He had looked down at his feet like a scolded child, and he wasn’t saying anything.

“Lucas, are you alright?” Eliott asked softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Lucas finally looked back up, and Eliott had the sudden impression that someone was squeezing his heart in a vice grip. Lucas’ usually wide and attentive eyes had huge bags under them and there was such sadness in them that Eliott wanted to hug the other boy. Then again, he wanted that most of the time, but even more so now that Lucas looked so dejected.

“What’s wrong?”

Lucas had not answered his first question, and Eliott was getting worried. Well, more worried.

“Nothing… nothing’s wrong. I only slept a few hours last night, I’m just tired. It’s no big deal.”

Eliott could see right through Lucas’ lies. Sure, he seemed tired, but there was more to it. There had to be.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, I had to leave my room to Manon, and my roommates only left the couch at about 2 am so… They did that on Saturday too, and I couldn’t oversleep in the morning because Mika got up early… whatever”.

“Damn, that sucks.”

That was not a very helpful answer on Eliott’s part, but he was baffled by how Lucas’ roommates had treated him.

“Tell me about it.” Lucas replied with a bitter edge in his voice. Eliott couldn’t blame him for that.

“You can stay at mine tonight, if you want.” And tomorrow night, and as many nights as you want, Eliott then thought.

Lucas’ mouth dropped and his blue eyes, despite their tiredness, widened. However, he recovered a second later.

“Are you sure? I mean, I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“Don’t worry about that. My parents are barely home these days, anyway.”

The smile Lucas offered had a certain kind of sadness to it. “Okay, then I’ll come. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll meet you at the bus stop. We can go to your place first, so you can get clothes and stuff.”

Eliott wouldn’t have minded letting Lucas borrow some of his clothes, quite the contrary, but that was probably better left unsaid. Had the circumstances been different, he might have said it just to see Lucas get all flustered, but they were in the middle of the schoolyard, and he would cut him some slack.

“Okay great, see you.”

After the break, Lucas couldn’t concentrate on any of his classes. It might have been partly because of the lack of sleep, but the main reason probably was that he couldn’t stop thinking about Eliott.

He couldn’t help but be nervous about tonight. He was sure they were about to kiss on Saturday, before Manon interrupted them, and damn had he wanted that kiss! He would have come and got it himself if it weren’t for the fact Eliott was a lot taller than he was and therefore hard to reach.

It was probably a bad idea, but Lucas didn’t know if he would be able to hold back. He had never wanted anyone so badly, and the way Eliott acted with him wasn’t helping anything. All the casual touches and the burning looks were driving him crazy, and it was nothing compared to some of the things he said, telling Lucas he was surprising, telling him about being attracted to men as well as women. How could Lucas keep his distance when Eliott looked and behaved the way he did?

Lucas’ inattention went to such extent that he got hit in the head by a basketball in PE because he had not seen it coming.

“Oh my God Lucas, I’m so sorry!” Alexia apologised immediately.

She had not done things halfway. She had thrown so hard that Lucas had been sent to the floor and was now slightly out of it.

“Are you okay?”

She bent over him, guilt and concern written all over her face. Lucas wanted to scream in frustration. How many times would he be asked if he was alright in this godforsaken day?

“Fine… don’t worry.” He finally answered, once he had recovered enough from the shock.

Alexia didn’t seem to be feeling better, though. She was grimacing while keeping her eyes fixed on him.

“Shouldn’t you go to the infirmary?”

“What? No, I’m fine.”

He looked around him and noticed pretty much everyone was staring at him weirdly.

“It’s just… you’ve got quite a mark, man.” Arthur informed.

Lucas groaned. He had to be cursed, there was no other explanation.

He excused himself to the teacher so he could go to the bathroom, where he found out he indeed had a huge red mark on his right cheekbone. This day really was awful. Lucas could only hope the mark would go away soon.

He could tell it did NOT disappear as soon as Eliott put his eyes on him when he reached the bus stop.

“God, what happened?” He asked, gently putting his thumb on Lucas’s cheek, right under the bruise.

Goosebumps erupted on his skin from just this slight touch, and suddenly Lucas wasn’t so mad at this day anymore.

“Basketball accident. Don’t worry, I bruise easily, it looks more serious than it is.” He reassured Eliott, causing his hand to drop from his face. Lucas was almost disappointed.

They took the bus and went to Lucas’ first, as planned. No one was home, and Lucas let out a relieved sigh. He really didn’t want to see his roommates, permanent or temporary, right now.

He was ready in under five minutes, taking his toothbrush and putting the first clothes he found in his travelling bag. They would be very crumpled in the morning, but Lucas couldn’t bring himself to care.

While he was doing that, Eliott was scrutinising every inch of his bedroom, because he apparently was a curious bastard. It made Lucas a little self-conscious about the mess, but that probably wasn’t what Eliott was paying attention to. Lucas hoped he wasn’t blushing.

They nearly missed the bus and had to run in order to get it. And, as soon as they got down, it started raining hard. Tough luck.

Lucas’ eyes started burning, just as they did when he was about to cry. Weather was a stupid reason to cry, but he was so exhausted, and he had had too much. At least, the raindrops would hide his tears, he guessed. Thank God for small mercies.

“Do you want us to find a shelter until it calms down?”

“It could last all night.” Lucas replied.

It was already dark outside, and with the heavy rain and feeble streetlights, Eliott couldn’t see Lucas very clearly, but he looked even worse for wear than he had in the morning, which was saying something.

“Okay, let’s hurry then” He said, before taking Lucas’ hand and stringing him along.

They walked quickly, but they were still drenched to the bone when they reached Eliott’s place.

“You can have the bathroom first. You already know where it is.”

Lucas nodded and then he was gone, nearly bolting down the hall. He was definitely acting weird, and not the kind of “weird” they liked.

Eliott could hear sniffling from the bathroom, and he hesitated between asking Lucas if he was okay and pretending he hadn’t heard anything, which was probably what Lucas wanted if how quickly he had left was to be taken into account. He chose the first option anyway, because he couldn’t stand the idea of Lucas being in pain.

Eliott knocked on the bathroom door.

“Is everything fine?”

“Er… yeah… sure, thanks.” Lucas answered in between pauses.

He went out of the bathroom about five minutes later, looking somewhat composed. His eyes were red, but his expression was neutral. His clothes were another story though: the white T-shirt he had put on was so wet it was basically see-through.

Eliott’s had to tear his eyes away from Lucas’ chest and tried to calm his wild heartbeat.

“Fuck, the rain was really that bad… I can lend you some of my clothes if you want.” It seemed Eliott would see Lucas in his things in the end. At that point, it was destiny.

“Nah… I mean, you’re already doing so much for me… I’ll make do with this.” Lucas passed a hand through his wet hair, making it messier than it already was, and Eliott had to bite his lip lest he embarrass himself by outright whimpering.

“Don’t be dumb, it’s no bother. I’ll go get stuff.”

He went to his room and found something similar to what Lucas was wearing, that is to say a T-shirt and sweatpants.

When he handed them to Lucas, he expected him to go back to the bathroom, but to Eliott’s surprise he started stripping in front of him.

Eliott was torn between looking away or watching every second of the impromptu strip-tease. Of course, he ended up going with the latter. If Lucas had wanted privacy, he wouldn’t have got half-naked right then and there, after all.

Once he had put the dry clothes on, Lucas got down on one knee and proceeded to roll up the right pantleg, and then he did the same with the left one so he wouldn’t trip on the excess fabric.

Eliott nearly died from the sight of Lucas in his own too big clothes. He looked even smaller and frailer than usual. The outfit, paired with his hair, which was all up in spikes, made him look so vulnerable that Eliott wanted to shield him in his arms and never let him go.

“I look ridiculous, don’t I?” He asked with a dejected smile.

“No…”

Eliott had answered far more seriously than he had intended to, his eyes still focused intensely on Lucas. He said nothing in return.

“Are you hungry?”

Eliott asked, hoping to diffuse the tension.

“Yes!”

After dinner, they watched a movie on the couch, and Lucas had to resist the temptation of putting his head on Eliott’s shoulder and falling asleep there. The fact he was on Eliott’s left side helped. He didn’t think his bruised right cheek would survive the pressure of the other boy’s hard shoulder.

He still fell asleep, though, since Eliott shook him awake at the end of the movie.

“Sorry to wake you up, but it’s time to go to bed.”

“Er… I can sleep on the couch if you want.”

“Lucas, I didn’t save you from your couch to make you sleep on mine.”

Eliott’s smile was teasing. Lucas cleared his throat.

“Right… Thanks again.”

Eliott winked at him. He winked! What a bastard…

They went to Eliott’s room and Lucas decided that two could play this game.

“I usually sleep in my underwear. Is it okay?”

“Er… yes. Sure! I… I do too.” Eliott stammered.

Ah! He wasn’t so smooth now, was he?

Lucas took Eliott’s clothes off, and watched Eliott as he stripped too. He looked delectable. This night would be torture, but it would be worth it, even though Lucas was severely in lack of sleep already.

They lied down and Eliott turned the light off.

Lucas’ heart was beating so hard he was afraid it would beat out of his chest, and his whole body was shaking in anticipation. In anticipation of what, exactly, he didn’t know. Maybe nothing would happen… Or… maybe he could make something happen. He didn’t necessarily have to wait for Eliott to make the first step every time. It had served him right on Saturday.

Feeling bold for once, Lucas placed his hand on Eliott’s naked chest before he had time to think it through. He could feel Eliott’s heart beating, and the fast pace of it made him smile in triumph.

Eliott put his hand over his and started caressing the back of it with his thumb. Lucas’ smile dropped, then. Eliott would be the death of him.

Their bodies were so close by then that Lucas could feel the heat radiating off Eliott. He wanted them to touch from head to toe, but he didn’t even have to move: Eliott did it for him.

Suddenly, Lucas’ front was right against Eliott’s, with one of the latter’s legs between his own. Lucas surely wouldn’t sleep a wink in this position, which was disastrous, but not enough to win against the desire to stay like that forever.

“Good night, Lucas.” Eliott whispered right next to his ear before kissing his temple slowly.

Lucas nearly gasped but managed to somewhat keep his composure.

“You too.” He whispered back, wondering how long Eliott would keep on being a tease.

Lucas could have put an end to it right this instant by kissing Eliott, but he didn’t want to be the first to cave in, and the torture was so sweet Lucas wasn’t even sure he wanted to put an end to it.

Surprisingly, sleep did overtake him at some point. Despite feeling deeply sexually frustrated, Lucas also felt safe and warm in Eliott’s arms. There was no better place to fall asleep in.

#skam france #fanfiction #elu #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #hurt and comfort #fluff

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haledamage · 5 years

Link

Pairing: Female Cousland/Nathaniel Howe

Story Summary: Cathain Cousland had been in love with Nathaniel Howe for as long as she can remember. It doesn’t take long after they reunite in Amaranthine to realize she still is.

Chapter Summary: Once, Cait could have walked the road between Vigil's Keep and Amaranthine with her eyes closed. She knew every endless, rainy mile of it as well as she knew the halls of the Vigil. It was nearly as familiar as the walls and flowers and hidden passages of Highever itself - which, regardless of her fondness for Amaranthine, had still been her home.

Once, Cait could have walked the road between Vigil's Keep and Amaranthine with her eyes closed. She knew every endless, rainy mile of it as well as she knew the halls of the Vigil. It was nearly as familiar as the walls and flowers and hidden passages of Highever itself - which, regardless of her fondness for Amaranthine, had still been her home.

But time was more cruel than any darkspawn, and the road to Amaranthine was not as she remembered. It had grown wild, packed dirt and cobblestone now broken by tree roots, overgrown by the encroaching forest, beset by bandits and worse.

They were traveling with a couple of Varel's soldiers - Garevel’s soldiers, technically, but Cait tended to think of everyone in the Vigil as either ‘my people’ or ‘Varel's people.’ Even though Varel himself was one of her people, as loyal as any of the Wardens and he had to deal with a lot more shit than they did.

These soldiers, Jasper and Avina, were… certainly enthusiastic. Young and excited to be on a mission with the Hero of Ferelden, which they insisted on calling Cait instead of any of her actual ranks or, perhaps, her blighted name. She stopped trying to strike up conversation with them before they’d even left sight of the keep.

“Cait,” Anders asked slowly, “why are there children following us?”

“Because we are going on a rescue mission and we need someone with us to bring the girl home. I doubt she’ll want to continue on to the city with us.” Very quietly, she added, “I never thought I’d regret wanting to save someone from kidnappers, but here we are.”

“Look on the bright side!” He slung an arm around her, conveniently blocking them from view by his height alone. “Free cannon fodder!”

“Shhhhh!” She put a hand over his mouth but was laughing as she did.

It was a beautiful day, by Amaranthine standards. The sky was overcast and heavy, but it didn’t smell like rain was due yet and the air was warm with the promise of summer around the corner. Good day to embarrass some kidnappers and maybe visit the market in the city.

Cait was trying very hard not to think about Delilah. Delilah, who had been her sister in all but blood since the moment they were born, less than a week apart. Delilah, who Cait hadn’t seen in three years, who had gotten married and she hadn’t known about it.

“You weren’t at breakfast this morning,” Anders said, quiet and dangerously casual.

“I slept in.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that,” he said, which she elbowed him for. “You know, Nathaniel wasn’t at breakfast either. What an interesting coincidence.”

She knew her face must be red. She refused to acknowledge it. “Don't ask if you don't want the answer, Anders."

“That is an answer.” He looked everywhere but at her, but his arm tightened around her shoulder in a quick, one-sided hug. “Good for you. If he breaks your heart, I'll set him on fire."

She hugged him, wrapping her arms around his still too skinny waist. It was awkward, and they tripped over each other a little on the uneven road, but it was good. “Noted. And appreciated.”

He pointed behind them before she could say anything else. “Not to interrupt, but I think Oghren is giving your baby soldiers some of that swill he ferments in his backpack.”

“Of course he is.” She sighed, weary to the depths of her soul, then turned around to see if he was telling the truth. “Oghren, if they pass out, you’re the one carrying them. We’ve got a schedule to keep.”

-------

“Leader up front, two flanking” Cait muttered.

“Three archers in the back,” Nathaniel added, barely loud enough for her to hear.

“That bridge is a bottleneck,” Oghren grunted, “Either get across it real sodding quick or wait for them to come to us.”

“One on the left is a mage,” Anders said, nodding briefly toward the woman in question.

“There are four in the tent,” Justice said sternly, much louder than the rest of them. “One of them is afraid.”

That meant ten bandits total just to shake down a nobleman that was supposed to come alone? There was no way Ser Bensley would have left this cove under his own power. Wouldn’t be enough against five Wardens, though.

Nathaniel put a hand on Cait’s shoulder and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Please tell me you aren't honestly considering giving these bastards money.”

“Of course not. Trust me, remember?” She touched his hand, then shrugged it off. “Be ready.”

Then she strode ahead, staying three paces in front of the others. She tried to affect the cocky swagger Zevran always wore into these situations; he had a way of convincing people he was supposed to be there, no matter where it was. Cait was pretty sure she just looked angry.

The man she’d identified as the leader confirmed her suspicions when he called out to her. “We told Bensley to come himself. Alone.”

Cathain leaned against a small rock outcropping, relaxed and casual and blocking herself off from anything that might try to sneak up on her. “Yes, well, I was in the neighborhood so I thought I'd come on his behalf.”

“And who the fuck are you, princess?” He looked her over. She didn’t miss the way he paused at the griffon on her chest, again at her knives.

“I'm the Warden-Commander, who the fuck are you?” The two bandits behind him took an involuntary step back. Cait bared her teeth. She was already bored with this. “Where's the girl?”

“Where's the money?”

She held up a small pouch, letting the coins jingle within. “Give me the girl or you won’t see a single blighted copper of it.”

They dragged a young girl out of a nearby tent. The girl, Eileen Bensley, couldn’t have been any older than sixteen and was terrified past the point of being able to speak. Her dress was ripped and filthy, her hair so dirty Cait couldn’t even tell what color it was, and she flinched at the slightest movement. Rage hardened in her chest at the tear streaks on Eileen’s face; she fought hard to keep her hands off her weapons.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” she said, as gently as she could manage. She waited until she nodded before addressing the apparent leader again, voice full of steel, “Hand her over.”

“Give me the money first.” He dropped several points in her estimation of his intelligence.

“Hand. Her. Over.” She stared him down, impatient, unintimidated, furious. He blinked first.

He nodded brusquely at one of the men holding the girl and they shoved her forward. Cait caught her before she fell and she clung to her, sobbing into her armor. “I've got you, sweetheart,” she said, not taking her eyes off of the bandit leader. She brushed a bit of the girl’s hair back from her face. “Eileen, right? You're safe now, Eileen. We're going to get you home to your father. Nathaniel.” Nate gently pried the girl from Cait and led her to Jasper and Avina, speaking gently to her the whole way.

“My money,” demanded the dead man.

“You know what I think?” Now that Eileen was safe, Cait no longer bothered to sound the slightest bit friendly. “I think I don't want kidnappers on my lands. I think that girl was the only thing keeping you alive.” She drew and threw a dagger in one fluid motion. The leader surged into action, but too late; It caught him in the throat, and she watched with a cold gratification as his body slumped to the ground.

There had been twelve of them, in the end. Two were hiding behind a large rock outcropping, behind the mage where her magic had obscured them from Justice’s senses. It didn’t make a difference.

“Search the area,” Cait ordered. “Make sure there aren’t any others hidden in the shadows. And check the bodies. If they weren’t working alone, I want to know about it.” Trusting that her orders would be followed, Cait turned her full attention back to Eileen.

The girl stared up at her with wide eyes. She hugged Byron, fingers clutched in his fur, and he tried to make himself look as harmless as possible for a war dog. She was so small. Cait couldn’t remember ever being that small. But Eileen met her eyes and held them, and no longer looked afraid. “Are you really the Hero of Ferelden?”

Cait fought not to cringe. “Some people have called me that. I prefer to be called by my name. I’m Cait.”

“I’m Eileen. But you knew that already. Did my father send you?”

“He did. This is Jasper and Avina.” She pointed at Jasper, hovering awkwardly nearby; he was barely older than Eileen. “They work for me and they're going to get you home safe to your family, okay?” She threw the pouch of gold that she’d shown the kidnappers at Avina, who fumbled it a little before catching it. “Anything she needs, get it for her. If that isn’t enough, let me know how much I owe you when you get back to the Vigil.”

“Yes, ser!” They said together as they actually, honest-to-Maker, saluted her.

She watched them leave until the forest swallowed them, then turned back to the bandit camp. It didn't contain much: a few crates of half-spoiled food, a pile of firewood, the single tent they'd been keeping Eileen in.

Oghren and Justice found no other bandits; the cove ended at a steep cliff down to the Amaranthine Ocean and no other places someone might hide. Nathaniel returned her dagger from the body of the leader, as well as a blade he'd drawn but never had a chance to use.

She gave it a cursory spin, checking the balance. It was front-heavy, the blade of much denser metal than the hilt, but it hummed ever-so-slightly from some kind of enchantment. She stuck it in her belt to inspect more thoroughly when she had time.

Anders was the last to return, bearing a small stack of papers for her. Most were drafts of threatening letters to Ser Bensley. One was a half-written and clearly heavily forced note written by Eileen; most of it was written in a shaky hand, but it suddenly ended in a large, angry DON'T GIVE THEM ANYTHING PAPA and then a blot of spilled ink. Cait swelled with pride for the girl. She'd fought back where she could.

The last note made Cait's stomach drop to her knees. It was orders to the lead kidnapper from his apparent patron, signed ‘burn this letter once received’ with a very familiar signature and the symbol of a bear on a yellow and white shield.

She'd known Esmerelle was behind a lot of the issues still plaguing Amaranthine. She knew in her gut that the bann was also behind the plot against her, though she still didn't have any proof. But that bear… that made things much more complicated.

She held it out to Nathaniel without a word and he stared for a moment uncomprehending. “That's my family crest. Why is it here?”

“Any chance your sister could be behind the assassination plot?” Anders asked hesitantly.

“No.” Cait and Nathaniel said simultaneously. She added, “Delilah never had much taste for subterfuge. If she wanted me dead, she'd do it herself. She’s like her brother, in that way.”

“Then they're trying to make the old Arl into a martyr.”

Cait pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache building behind her eyes. “Of course they are. Oust the Cousland usurper and put the arling back in the hands of it's rightful owners.”

“Such a shame that the remaining Howes have been brainwashed by the usurper,” Anders said sourly, voicing exactly what Cait was thinking. “They have no choice but to remove them as well.”

Cait sighed. She hated politics. “We should get moving if we want to get to the city by nightfall.” She folded up the papers and stuck them in her bag, then led the way back to the road.

-------

They did not, in fact, arrive in the city before nightfall. They walked through the main gate just after full dark, when the market was closed but the streets weren't empty yet. The open doorways of taverns beckoned to them, beacons of light and laughter in the night.

As they walked past the first one, a seedy bar with light peeking out through the uneven boards of the walls, Cait became aware of an additional presence at her side.

“You are getting complacent, my dear Warden,” Zevran said with a sly smile. “If I were an assassin, you would already be dead.”

“You are an assassin,” Cait said, feeling an answering smile spread across her own face.

“Then it is a good thing for you that I am retired.” He chuckled. “Is it strange to say that I missed you?”

“It’s barely been two weeks,” she said fondly, “but I missed you too.”

“Ah, but there is someone else who has missed you as well. She's waiting for you.”

Cait froze, suddenly nervous. She fidgeted with a buckle on her armor. “She is? It’s not too late? Maybe we should wait until morning. I don’t want to impose.”

“I have seen you face down demons without blinking, but you’re scared of a merchant’s wife?” Anders laughed, appearing behind Zevran. Cait had kind of forgotten he was there. She’d remember to feel guilty about that later, when she was in a calmer state of mind.

“I don’t care about the opinions of my enemies.”

Nathaniel put his hand on her back, warm and reassuring. “If we don’t go see her tonight, she’ll just hunt us down.”

Cait laughed and it settled her nerves. “You’re right. Of course you’re right.” She turned to Anders and gave him a handful of sovereigns from her coin purse. “Whichever tavern you pick, get Nate and I rooms.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, but he took her money anyway. “You must not know the kind of places I drink at.”

“Whatever it is, I guarantee I’ve slept in worse.”

Then they left, following Zevran down the winding, cobblestone streets of Amaranthine. Cait hadn't often been here at night; 'the city wasn't safe for children', Adria, the Howes’ governess, had always said, 'especially not for pretty young ladies'.

It was beautiful. The windows shone like fireflies, warm light reflecting on the stone of the streets and buildings until the whole city seemed to glow. Jewel of the North, indeed.

Delilah's house was small but tidy, in a quiet corner just off the market district. The lights were on, and Cait could see shadows moving around inside. Zevran knocked before she could try to back out again.

The door burst open and a tiny woman with the same dark hair and pale eyes as Nathaniel sprang out and threw herself into her brother's startled arms. He wrapped himself around her, nearly dwarfing her entirely, and they stayed like that for a long, quiet moment.

From somewhere within the tangle of Howes, a delicate arm snaked out toward Cait. “Come on then,” said Delilah's stern, sweet voice. “This is a family reunion, Caitie Cousland. That means you too.”

They enveloped her as soon as she stepped close. She couldn’t tell which arms belonged to which person; she pressed her face into the nearest shoulder and willed the tears building in her eyes not to fall.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before Delilah cleared her throat and stepped back, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. “Well, come on inside. Dinner’s getting cold. You too, Zevran, don’t think I don’t see you hiding back there, you aren’t as good at it as you think.” She turned and walked inside, assuming that the rest of them would follow.

The inside of the house was as cozy and tidy as the outside, filled with the smell of baked goods. A man with light brown hair and a nervous smile stepped out of the kitchen, wearing an apron covered in flour. He shook Nate’s hand and said, “Albert Reese. You must be Nathaniel.”

“I am. Pleasure to meet you.”

Albert offered Cait his hand next. “I know who you are. Everyone in town’s got something to say about you,” he said, sounding so genuinely friendly that she couldn’t help but smile.

“They’re probably untrue. Definitely exaggerated,” she said and Albert laughed.

“My Lilah tells some wild stories about you too.” He started walking back toward the kitchen and they all followed.

“Those are likely true, I’m afraid.”

Dinner was delicious, the best meal Cait had had since Nan died, and by the time they’d finished dessert she was already trying to figure out how to convince them to come live at the Vigil. Albert was charming, with a warm smile and easy laugh, and was clearly, hopelessly in love with his wife. Delilah shuffled around the house, never seeming to stop moving; Cait wondered if she actually thought she was hiding the roundness of her belly under the loose housecoat she wore over her dress, or if she just didn’t want to talk about it yet.

“So how long have you been back?” Delilah asked her brother as they all settled in the little sitting room.

“Two months back in Ferelden. One in Amaranthine.” Nathaniel laced his fingers with Cait’s as he relaxed on the sofa next to her. “I didn’t know where to find you or if you were alive, otherwise I’d have been here sooner.”

Delilah looked skeptical, but turned her attention to Cait. “And you’ve been here a month. And clearly possess the resources to have got in touch sooner.”

“I didn’t think I’d be welcome,” Cait said honestly. “Nate tried to kill me as soon as I got here.”

“Nathaniel Howe!” Delilah scolded, looking like she was considering throwing her teacup at him.

Cait laughed. “Relax, Lilah. It was a misunderstanding. We’ve worked it out.”

“I see that,” she muttered, but set her tea down at least. “I heard about what happened to your family, Caitie. I am so sorry.”

“It’s…” she started to say okay, but that was a lie. She amended, “It’s not your fault.”

“I hear you’re the one that killed Father,” Delilah said, voice hard. All Cait could do was nod. “Good. It should have been you if it couldn’t be me. Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

“Delilah! The man may have done some terrible things, but he was still our father!” Nathaniel said, but he just sounded resigned, sad, instead of angry. Cait squeezed his hand.

“You weren't here, Nate. You didn’t see what he became. Violent, paranoid, lashing out at everyone over the smallest slight. I ran away as soon as I could. That’s how I met Albert.” The anger faded from her face as she smiled at her husband. “He saw me in the market and offered me a loaf of bread and a job at his bakery. We’ve been together ever since.”

“And when are you due?” Cait was happy to move to friendlier subjects.

“Due? Delilah, are you pregnant?” Nathaniel sat forward on the couch, studying his sister.

Cait laughed. “How could you miss it? That baby’s almost as big as she is!”

Delilah put a hand on the swell of her belly, leaning back against Albert to really bring attention to it. “Soon. Before summer, likely. Do you want to feel her kick?”

Watching Nathaniel greet his niece or nephew for the first time was a revelation Cait had not been prepared for. His smile was boyish and joyful and exceedingly attractive, and when he turned it toward her it felt like a punch in the gut. She’d never given much thought to having children before, but for just a moment it overwhelmed her. She pushed it down, bottled it up as well as the wave of panic that followed in its wake, and by the time Delilah approached her, her smile was easy and uncomplicated again.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she said to Delilah’s belly, feeling the strange shift and twitch of the life growing within, “I’m your Auntie Cait. I can’t wait to meet you.”

Delilah’s smile was warm, but her eyes were shrewd as she stared at the spot on the sofa where Cait and Nathaniel’s hands were still linked between them. “So how long has this been going on?” she asked, as if she didn't know. As if Cait hadn’t confessed everything to her in the dark of their shared bedroom, as if she wasn’t the only person alive who had ever heard Cait say ‘love’ and ‘Nathaniel’ in the same terrified sentence.

“Four days,” said Cait and it wasn’t quite a lie. At the same time, Nathaniel said “thirteen years,” but it wasn’t quite the truth.

“Uh-huh,” said Delilah, somehow seeing through both of them to the truth in between. But she relented, and returned to her seat next to her husband, and the conversation turned to lighter things.

It was very late when they left with many hugs and promises to visit soon and often. Zevran stayed behind, had apparently been staying with them for days. Cait was too tired to question it.

They found Anders at the Crown and Lion Inn, still drinking merrily and losing a lot of money at cards. The patrons were apparently too drunk to notice he was a mage, or simply didn’t care, even as he used a bit of frost magic to chill his drink. How refreshing. Anders gave Cait her room key with an exaggerated wink that she didn’t understand until she went upstairs to find Nate was already in her room, their room, having gone up before her while she chatted with the drunken mage. At least he’d gotten them a decent-sized bed.

It had been a good day. Long, emotionally draining, mildly panic-inducing on several different levels she didn’t have the time or energy to examine, but good. She undressed quickly, leaving her armor, weapons, and clothes in an untidy pile in a chair, and crawled into the thankfully clean and surprisingly soft bed. She watched Nathaniel disrobe more slowly, leaving his belongings neatly folded and sorted. It was cute. The novelty of this stage in their relationship was still fresh enough that she couldn’t help lay there and stare at him, gorgeous and graceful and hers.

He climbed into bed and pulled her close and she was asleep within minutes.

-------

Cait woke him the next morning with her lips on his skin and finally took the opportunity to explore him like he'd done to her a few nights ago. Their bed creaked alarmingly under his grip as Nathaniel clenched his fists around the posts of the headboard in an effort to keep them out of her hair. She felt a heady rush at the idea that this was something she was allowed to do now, first thing in the morning or whenever they wanted to. It was almost the same rush she felt watching him shake and gasp as he came undone. He was quick and eager to return the favor, and she didn't last much longer than he had, had no means or desire to defend herself against his clever tongue, and covered her mouth with her hand so she didn't wake the whole inn as she shouted her release.

He grinned against her lips as they curled back up together on the bed. “Good morning.”

“Mmm, it is now.” She chuckled and pulled him down for another kiss. “We should have done this ages ago.”

“I know it's been a while, but we have definitely done this before.” He caressed her back, tracing the scar from the archdemon.

“You know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean.”

Neither of them made any attempt to get out of bed for a long time.

Byron eventually took issue with it and came over to stand next to Cait. When she turned to look his way, he let out a deep, warning boof. If they didn't get moving, he would bring every patron in the building running their way.

They still managed to beat Anders and Oghren downstairs, but Justice sat at a corner table in the bar with a mug of ale in front of him. Cait was pretty sure he'd been in the same place when she'd gone to bed last night.

“Did Anders not get you a room?” she asked as she sat down across from him.

“He did. I preferred to stay here.” His eyes traveled the room, more emotional than she’d ever seen from him before. “There is an energy to this space, of all the souls that have passed through it. It is… enlightening. Invigorating. Are all human cities like this?”

“I… don’t know,” Cait said. “You can see the energy people leave behind? Or feel it?”

“I can feel it. Like the sun on my skin.” Justice held his hand over the table between them. “A man once sat in this chair with a ring in a box, practicing a speech to ask his beloved to marry him. Another was drinking to numb his pain, a persistent headache that had lasted several days. He could not afford to visit a physician, but he could afford another drink.” He dropped his hand to the smooth wood of the tabletop. “Layers upon layers on every surface.”

“That’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“The Vigil must be very noisy for you,” said Nathaniel. “They say it’s been around for thousands of years. I can’t even imagine how many lives have been lived there.”

Justice studied Nate with those too-knowing eyes of his. “You want to know about the lives of your ancestors.” He nodded to himself as if Nathaniel had answered, even though he didn’t say anything. “In the Fade, nothing outlives the spirit that made it. Here, everything is built upon the bones of what came before. Yes, many souls have passed over the stones of Vigil’s Keep. Some of them bore the name Howe. When we return, I will tell you of them.”

The conversation shifted as Anders and Oghren stumbled downstairs and slumped into empty chairs. They looked like they were regretting several of their life choices.

“So!” Cait said, loudly and with more cheer than necessary. She clapped her hands once and grinned as her hungover friends groaned at the noise. “Does anyone have business in the city while we’re here? I know Justice, you wanted to visit Aura. I also need to find a man named Colbert. Apparently he found a gorge in the hills to the west that may lead to the Deep Roads.”

As she spoke, she reached into her bag and pulled out a couple vials, placing one each in front of Anders and Oghren. “Maybe try to limit yourselves next time when you’re on the job, please,” she said sweetly, but she knew they could hear the order in the words; they were hungover, not stupid. “Drink all you want on your own time, but I will not hesitate to drop you into a nest of darkspawn while you’re wasted.”

They both muttered something that sounded like “yes, Commander” as they drank their potions. She gave them a few minutes for the worst of their headaches to fade, and then they all got to work.

Their second meeting with Aura went… better. She didn’t panic at the sight of her husband’s possessed body, which was a start. Justice told her, fumbling but sincere, that he mourned Kristoff’s loss with her, that he would avenge him. Cait didn’t know Aura well enough to read the look on her face, but she hoped she found comfort in his words. He stood as little taller as they left.

Talking with Colbert and his partner Micah was enlightening, but frustrating. Colbert said a lot of things that didn’t matter and Micah said barely anything at all. They spoke in circles for what felt like hours until Cait gave in and threw money at them to get an answer that made sense. A couple sovereigns magically got her exactly the information she needed.

Cait wished a couple sovereigns could solve the problem Colbert’s story brought to light. An open path between the surface and the Deep Roads, in a land beset by new types of darkspawn. There was no way this could be coincidence, and no way Cait could ignore it either.

“I won’t order any of you to come with me,” she said, once they’d moved away from the city crowds. “The Deep Roads are miserable. It’s either a slog through empty, lightless tunnels a hundred miles underground, or it’s a constant battle versus endless hordes of darkspawn, and there’s not much in between. Volunteers only.”

“I go where you go,” said Nathaniel firmly.

“That’s really sweet,” Cait said, and it was. It was hopelessly, stupidly romantic, but she was apparently into that. “but I don’t think you understand what you’re committing to.”

“Then I guess I’ll find out when we get there.”

“Well, I can’t let you have all the fun,” added Anders.

“We’ve been to the Deep Roads together before,” said Oghren. “How much worse can it be?”

“If it is as dangerous as you say, I will not leave you to face it alone,” Justice said.

Cait was torn between indignation that they were all so stubborn to not take the opportunity to stay behind, and humbled that she had such loyal friends. “Thank you. We’ll take the rest of the day to resupply and head out at first light tomorrow. Anything you need to do in the city, do it now. And try to stay sober please.”

#nathaniel howe #cousland/nathaniel howe #dragon age #dragon age awakening #dragon age fic #cait cousland #cait/nate #rhi writes #something might be found #just a little lighthearted fun and rescuing a damsel before we get back to plot stuff #delilah was fun to write

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voltronbutheadcanons · 7 years

Note

May I humbly ask a scenario where the reader reuniting with Shiro. Give me all the feels. Pls (Im real lost right now fam this season messed me up, I haven't slept well in days and I'm losing it XD)

I lowkey added the theories from our conspirators on Tumblr about Kuron and the logic behind this mysterious clone. Also, it may not be what you wanted, but I did give you dem feels :’) ~Mod Saffron

Up, down. Up, down. Slap. Up, down. Up, down. Sl-

“Hey, (Name)?” a voice suddenly called you out from behind your quarter doors. You caught the slimy putty that Pidge accidentally created in your palm and warily glanced towards the sliding doors from your pillow. You blinked owlishly and swallowed, saliva burning your dry throat.

“Yeah?” Shit, that came out raspier than you thought. You really needed water, but surprisingly, you weren’t feeling thirsty.

“Can….can I come in?” It was hard to register whose voice it belonged to, but whoever they were, they sounded a bit cautious. You detected a hint of nervousness within the request, but you sighed heavily and ignored it.

“Yeah, go for it,” you called out rather gloomily.

As you mixed the multi-colored slime between your fingers, you heard the sliding doors hiss open to reveal Hunk standing in the doorway. He took a step inside as the doors closed behind him and he proceeded to stand awkwardly near your bed, where you lounged lazily over the mussed sheets.

Dropping the slime beside you, you allowed your hands to fall flat on your stomach as you accommodated your guest. “Hey,” you greeted while your eyes scanned him up and down for any food.

His eyes were painted with sadness and pity. “Hi.”

You blinked once before the tense silence was broken between you two. “So, what’s up? Any recipes?”

Sighing heavily, Hunk crossed his muscular arms with tight fists. “No. Not yet. I’m trying to work on this new tech with Pidge that will allow us to find Lotor’s new ship.”

“He has another one?” You questioned with slight panic racing through your veins.

Hunk’s arms hastily unfolded to open, placating palms, as he waved them around anxiously. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no! I meant the ship that he made out of the same thing Voltron’s made of! You know, the one from the comet we got from that alternate reality?”

You slumped gently back onto your pillow, suddenly feeling drained. “Oh, right. That one.”

You waved your arm to the area near your feets on your bed. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine.” Hunk chuckled a little before clearing his throat. “I just came to see how you were doing. You know, since…”

“Shiro?” You finished with a scoff. “Yeah, I know. It’s not him.”

That statement made Hunk pause to stare at you incredulously. “Wait, what?”

You exhaled a bit exasperatedly and sat up with a hoarse groan. “Look. I’ve been really suspicious about this…‘Shiro’ we’ve been having around for the past few days.”

Hunk finally took this as an invitation to sink down onto the bed, never breaking his confused gaze from your eyes. “But, he’s like your boyfriend! Your man, your “the one” guy! I thought you’d be happier now that he’s back!”

“That’s the thing, Hunk.” You pursed your dry lips, licking them briskly before continuing. “When Shiro disappeared, it was only a matter of time before he came back to us. He returned? Great. No one seems to care about the fact that he had super long hair upon his arrival to Voltron.”

Hunk scratched the back of his neck, thinking. “Yeah, well, he was gone for who-knows-how-long.”

You glared at the mechanic-gourmand, the bags under your eyes creating the impression of an evil woman. “Hunk, you and I both know that you’re a smart guy.”

A tint of rose suddenly slapped his round cheeks. “Well…”

“Think, man.” You interrupted. “We calculated every quintant–”

“Whoa, whoa whoa. Hold up. What’s that again?” asked Hunk sheepishly.

“Days.”

“Got it. Carry on.”

“We counted every quintant that Shiro was missing for Voltron’s formation strategies. It was roughly about four-and-a-half quintants before this mysterious person who claims to be Shiro arrives in a Galra pod.

“Strangely enough,” Your voice began to clear as you spoke more heatedly about your theory to the bewildered Hunk. “This person survived seven freaking days without food or water, and might I add on low oxygen level, and somehow didn’t even need a healing pod for his stomach to recuperate!”

Your gasp of breath allowed an opportunity for Hunk to hum his thoughts. “Yeah…now that I think about it, it all does seem a bit…”

“And that’s not even it!” You jumped at his agreement. “When I ran to hug him, he tensed up for two whole ticks before hesitatingly hugging me back. That’s crazy! The real Shiro wouldn’t even waste half a moment to embrace me! And what’s up with his new haircut, anyways? He looks like a janitor at a drug-infested school! I raised my boyfriend better than that, you know! He never kissed me since and I feel like he’s being so cold to me! Even Keith senses something’s up! I know how his ugly a-”

“Whoa there! Hey, settle down there, girl!” Hunk laughed nervously while grasping your shoulders with a gentle clutch. He pushed you back down onto the bed with a slight ‘bump’ on the foam mattress. You sighed yet again and shut your lids in embarrassment, your mind raging endlessly on more theories you spent nights awake for.

He scooted closer to your torso, cocking his head lazily to gaze at your closed ones. Hunk’s fingers reached out to stroke your dry hair and you sank into his touch. “Look, I know you really miss him. Even if that’s not really him.”

You squeezed your eyes tighter, brows furrowing as tears threatened to spill. “Yeah.”

His palm was warm when it grazed your cheek. “I may not be as caught up on this “clone” version of Shiro as you are, but what I do know is that you have not left your room in a long, long time.”

Hunk’s voice sounded like gravel against concrete when he chuckled under his breath. “And don’t ask me to tell you how long in Altean measurements.”

When you opened your stinging eyes, the first few drops of your sorrow slid slowly down your cheek, only to be wiped away by Hunk’s thumb. You strained to sit up, your empty stomach groaning loudly, as you moved to wrap your arms around Hunk’s plump torso.

You laid your cheek on one of his taut pecs as you silently sobbed into his shirt. It had the wonderful aroma of burnt herbs with a hint of sautéed mushrooms in the mix. The scent reminded you of home, where Shiro used to cook breakfast in nothing but a silly apron early in the mornings, his sheepish smile piercing your heart when he reminded you that he could not cook. You still loved him anyways.

Caught up in nostalgic thoughts, you didn’t notice Hunk tugging your frame against his body as he rocked you back and forth comfortingly. You stayed in his arms until you felt sleepier than before, your eyes brimming with redness. It stung to blink and your throat was drier from the lack of liquid in your body.

“Hey,” Hunk gently called to you once more, pulling back from your tight hold onto him. “Why don’t you get into the bath while I whip something up for you? I know you haven’t eaten in hours and you look like you could use some nourishment.”

You eyed him weakly with puffed lids and swollen lips, nodding in defeat. Hunk murmured a few words of comfort before scratching your scalp one last time and getting up from your bed, mattress creaking form his weight. He pulled you with him and carefully led your heavy feet to the Castle’s giant restroom.

Your footsteps were padded as they sounded through the empty corridors, leaving you with nothing but thoughtless images of people in your head. Keith, Lance, Allura, and the others popped up, all smiles and laughter.

Shiro’s visage did not show, however, and you weren’t sure if you were grateful for this. Several pangs hit your heart whenever his name rang through your mind.

Stop, you told yourself. This isn’t like you. Grow up.

You didn’t realize how much time passed since you arrived in front of the restroom, yet you did remember collapsing in Hunk’s arms, exhausted from movement. The sensation of his strong limbs hauling up into a cradle nearly rendered you to sleep, but your senses reawakened when your bare feet fell silently against cold tiles.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Hunk’s gravel voice alerted you, despite its softness. “Just take some time to relax, clear your head, and take care of yourself. ‘Kay?”

“Mm-hm,” you hummed back.

When he took his leave, the doors instantly locked behind his figure, insuring your privacy. You sighed and began to strip your clothing piece by piece, each article piling higher in a heap of dirty laundry.

As you got closer to your hot skin, it became increasingly difficult to unbutton the layers of garb that you had slipped on and kept for the past few days. The room became warmer, but you didn’t bother wiping the beads of sweat from your brow.

Your aching arm reached out to press a few buttons in the round bathtub, hot water springing to life from the spout and slowly filling up the marble bath. You grabbed a few pearls, apparently known for being the best Altean bath bombs, and tossed them into rising water. Within a few ticks, the clear water had become a bubble-filled paradise.

Once the water reached a certain marker in the rings of the tub, the spout clicked shut and water flow ended almost immediately. You hadn’t noticed you’d been standing naked until the sound of rushing water was gone.

You cautiously lowered a foot into the water for a touch test and once the steamy bubbles sent tingles though your toes, you sank down into the water completely, ignoring the burn on your skin. You hissed slightly through your teeth as your body adapted to the boiling heat of the bubbly water.

Several ticks passed as you sat in silence, the water sloshing every few moments you adjusted yourself. Your thoughts turned up empty when you attempted to think of something other than your missing beloved. The old sky of Earth, the sweet scent of grass, the ocean. Nothing. Every thought reverted back to a connection with Shiro.

You lazily brought a hand up to scrub at your forearm, trailing towards your shoulder. Your pruned fingers traced the dead skin there, mimicking the way Shiro used to when you took baths with him on bad days.

He would scrap his nails as gently as he could across your skin, giving you the nice sensation of chills and sinking you into a state of relaxation.

You rubbed your eye with a soap-free hand, suddenly feeling the weight above your eyelids. You were being pushed into slumber due to your inconsistent sleeping schedule from the past few days. You took another deep breath and exhaled though your mouth, stretching your arms in front of you.

Well, maybe you could take a small nap. As long as you didn’t slip underwater and die. Then, again, that might not be the worst idea.

Shaking your depressing thoughts away, you reached back to hoist yourself onto a bulging seat in the marble bath and fluffed the bubbles around your breasts until they were hidden from sight.

As you leaned your head against your palm, you momentarily took a moment to close your heavy eyes and simply relax. The soft sounds of the Altean bubbles popping and the rippling waves of the tub allowed you to receive a clear mind.

The harsh lights of the bathroom didn’t ease your lead-like lids any further than they were and soon, you found your head slowly lowering until it settled upon the wet rim of the tub.

Takashi....you thought sadly as you slipped into darkness.

“(Name)?”

Your eyes snapped open at the echo of the voice. Still groggy from your nap, you hastily rose to accommodate your visitor. Your head whipped around and you realized with a few rubs of the eye that you were not in your bath as thought you were.

You were in a dark plain, the night sky glittered with countless stars. Lavender nebulae danced across your upper vision but if you stared directly at them, they would vanish from sight. An eerie glow illuminated the scenery, giving you a serene feeling.

Quickly glancing down, you saw that you were clothed in ivory garments of some sort, wide and airy. You spun your head around your lower body and noticed that the dress you wore accommodated the style of a loose wedding gown.

Almost immediately, numerous questions filled your poor mind. Where were you? Who dressed you like this? Who called out to you? Why weren’t you in your bath, naked and trembling with tears?

“(Name)?”

Your heart skipped several beats, each one more painful than the next. You didn’t realize you began to perspire until a few loose beads slipped down your brow, you hand coming up to hastily wipe them away. You twirled this way and that, nearly tripping over your gown in search of the voice.

Then, you saw.

It was him.

In all his glorious wounds and battle scars, Shiro stood in the middle of the plain meadow, the high grass waving around him as he trudged forward in search of you. His armor was still adorned from his last skirmish with Zarkon.

You stared for a few moments, your eyes drinking in the sight of the real Shiro, Takashi, walking around like a lame child. Your brain received no response as you forced yourself to call out, run, something! You just stood with your mouth agape.

Then, he saw.

In all your glorious beauty and waving garments, you stood at the edge of the dead meadow, the low grass blades cutting into your ankles as you made tiny steps towards his figure. Your clothes seemed different than what remembered you last in, pale robes distinguishing you as a bride.

Then, you both ran. Sound was lost as the wind waved in your ears, pants barely heard, tears falling faster than a waterfall when you both crashed into each other’s arms. Broken sobs and hiccups echoed as your hearing was restored. Color returned to your eyes as your arms desperately wound themselves tighter around your beloved Takashi.

He, for one, could not understand how this was happening, nor could he pinpoint where he was. All he wanted to know was if you were okay.

Sloppy kisses were exchanged, and so did the breathless questions in between.

“Where-smooch-have you been-smooch-all this-smooch-time?” you asked as you sucked on his plush lips.

“I-smooch-can’t say,” he panted. “For sure.”

When you finally pulled back to study his face, your lungs were burning for air and your fingers have found their way around his chin, stroking it softly as you placed a few pecks around his face.

Shiro closed his eyes, still breathing harshly, and pulled you into his lap. Girdling his hips with your limbs, you slumped against his chest, still kissing his cheeks and stroking his sideburns with your free thumbs.

You gasped when he tugged the front of your collar lower than appropriate and began to suck on the valley between your orbs “Stay.”

“I will,” Shiro mouthed over your skin.

“I know you’re lying,” you responded softly, curling your fingers into his buzzcut.

You felt his smile against your breast. “It’s alright.”

When you opened you eyes again, you found your arms folded across your torso in a tight self-embrace. You pried your lips cautiously from your forearm, where you could see your lipstains all over your skin.

Oh.

Releasing your arms in defeat, you allowed your eyes to finally let loose and rain down into the tub water, which had cooled sufficiently since your nap. Your skin had pruned severely from the ends of your body and your locks of hair damp and cold.

“It’s not alright,” you whispered to no one. “Lying is a sin.”

#takashi shirogane #reader insert #angst #fluff #mod saffron #otherbunny #this hit me harder than ever #bc we lost him for real this time #T____T #sigh #Thanks for sending in your ask!#<3

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