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charliedawn · 4 years ago

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What is their reaction when they find out that they may have grown attached to you ?

You know how Jason can be very insecure and self-conscious ? Well. Prepare for a whole new level. He will check himself in the mirror when you're not looking, and if he doesn't like what he is seeing ? He will smash the mirror and go in a corner to sit and move back and forth, to give himself some reassurance. He still remembers what his mother used to tell him.

" Persons are a nuisance, Jason. You don't need them to survive."

But then, why does he feel like he needs you ? He feels conflicted as to what to believe.

Super jumpy ! He will jump almost every time you touch him or lose his grip of the things he is holding, often ending broken and splattered on the floor. He would be as clumsy as Jason and would want you to spend more time with him. However, he would also be scared of you breaking his heart.

" I..I c..care.."

Like many of your patients, Brahms has trouble finding his words. At first, many thought he was mute, like Jason or Michael. This is why hearing him speak to you always means it is important.

" I..I care.."

He wants to say many things, how he cherishes every moment you spend together, how you make his heart race everytime you are near him or how he wants you to be by his side forever..But, he can't. He can just hope that what he feels can be expressed through eye contact. You may not understand what he wants to say, but you still try to understand. You put your hand on his and reply with a compassionate smile.

" I care about you too. You are a very good friend, Brahms.."

Did you just indirectly friendzone him ? Possibly..You walk out and Brahms sighs before sitting on his bed while hugging his doll to comfort him.

" You turn me on."

He will be absolutely frank about it. He will just step up and tell you in front of anyone. He doesn't give a damn if the others hear him as well. Also, creep alert, will watch you sleep. He will sneak in your bedroom in the middle of the night and just look at you sleep. He wants to touch you so bad, but he knows that that would wake you up. And he doesn't want that. He will just admire you from afar, even pretend that you may like him back. He would just want to get close to you, to look at you and wonder what you may be dreaming about..hoping that you are dreaming of him.

" Oh my sweet..You look so perfect when you sleep.."

Now..You know how Five is very serious about his relationship with Dolores ? Well, you better be prepared by lots of imaginary fights between the two of them, and even a break-up ! *gasp* Drama. He would be in a very bad mood and would scream and attack everyone that approaches his personal space. He would also smash everything in his room. Like, everything. So much that the other nurses would be too scared of him and ask you to handle it.

" Hey. Are you okay, Five ? Did something happen ?"

He would snort and look up at you with visible frustration.

" You happened. Dolores and I broke up. Not that she was one to share her feelings anyway."

You frown in incomprehension before asking with a small airy laugh.

" I don't understand, what does that have to do with me ?"

Your question seems to trigger a nerve and he suddenly stands up to look at you dead in the eye with anger and, somehow, pain..

" Everything ! You're too nice ! Too forgiving ! Too perfect ! You wiped our past as if it was nothing, goddammit ! We're serial killers, Y/N! We're monsters and you treat us as if we were..as if we were.."

He doesn't get to finish that sentence as he seems on the verge of tears. He jumps on his bed to sit and hide his face behind his knees. You seem to finally understand the problem and sigh before sitting next to Five.

" It's okay to have feelings, Five. You can't hide them forever. I'm sorry if it upsets you but, I don't think you're all that bad. Sure, you kill and even eat people. But, I've seen you change. You are a lot less violent and a few more months ? And I'm sure you'll be out of here in no time."

He looks up at you again with a sort of desperation, very uncharacteristic of Five, before finally asking in a tearful voice.

" What if..What if I don't want to go back ? Out there, I'm just a freak. But, here ? I got.."

He doesn't finish his sentence, but you guess what he is going to say and smile understandingly.

"..Friends ?"

He doesn't answer, he only suddenly hugs you tightly and hides his face in your skirt. You hesitate before slowly petting the top of his head affectionately. The gesture seems to relax him, but he quickly straightens up and wipes his tears away. He then stands up and apologizes.

" I..I'm sorry, it was highly inappropriate of me. I'll..I'll let you work."

Before you could say anything, he runs out of the room and leaves you confused and worried.

Lots of uncontrollable laughter. More than usual. He is very nervous when you're around him and sometimes cries while laughing, showing that he is deeply ashamed of his condition. He is very bipolar and will sometimes act very casually around you, only to break into tears when you leave the room. He will stare at you and turn his gaze away as soon as you would notice.

" Well, would you look at that ? Sir Sh*tty the clown seems to have a little crush on the nice nurse.."

Pennywise would tease him about it while Penny cackles behind him. Arthur glares at them both before either ignoring them or leaving the room.

No. Nope. Certainly not. He will try to hide from you. He knows very well what he is feeling, and also what happens to the people he feels this way towards. He just managed to get rid of his curse, he is not about to risk getting on a murder rampage again ! Every time he would see you, he would pretend to be busy or hide. One time, he even jumped out the window to get away from you. It is very odd since Michael is normally the most chill and calm out of all the patients. But one look at you ? And he becomes a panicking mess. He has to get away. He doesn't want to hurt you like he hurt everyone else close to him, like he hurt his family..

" Me ? Having feelings ? Ah !"

One word: denial. He doesn't want to hear about things like feelings. He saved you ? Bah. It was only because he was bored. He will deny everything, but still follow you and pop up out of nowhere to see what you're doing. He enjoys talking to you, even if he doesn't want to admit it.

" Pennywise..You're staring again."

Penny would gently warn him as his big brother would pretend to not have done such a thing.

" Can't an old clown appreciate to look at nice things sometimes ?"

Penny frowns, not understanding his big brother's words until Freddy intervenes by popping next to him with a huge grin.

" Let it go, kid. Your big bro is just too much of a chicken to go talk to her.."

Pennywise growls in annoyance at Freddy before raising his middle finger at him.

" F*ck off Freddy ! At least I don't watch her sleep like a total perv !"

That would result in a fight that you would have to break. Again..

" Pennywise..I think I'm sick.."

Pennywise would admit some day to Pennywise that would sigh in annoyance.

" Stop saying stupid sh*t. You know very well that we can't be sick."

But, upon seeing the devastated face of his brother, Pennywise sighs loudly before turning towards him to focus his whole attention on him.

" Fiiinnneee...Tell me."

Penny's mood seems to lit up as his brother seems to be willing to listen to him.

" OK, so it concerns the nurse, Y/N. Everytime they are near me, I feel things in my stomach, like a million kids were kicking me in there..Everytime they touch me, I feel as if a part of me in my chest is about to burst and I feel warm, very very warm. And then, I feel very very bad when they talk to anyone else..It's horrible. I want it to stop..Should I eat them ?"

Pennywise stays silent for a while before saying with an unusual straight face.

" Penny.."

He starts, but Penny starts panicking as he sees the sour look on his brother's face.

" Oh ! It's bad, isn't it ?! What is it ?! How long do I have ?!"

Pennywise rolls his eyes dramatically at his brother's exaggerated reaction before cutting him off in his worried questions.

" Shut up, you idiot ! You're not dying. You're just feeling.."things" for them."

Penny stops talking and frowns in confusion, his eyes diverging in deep concentration, as if trying to understand Pennywise's words.

" Things ?! What things ?!"

He finally asks with his eyes wide open in obvious loss and Pennywise face-palms himself before answering with a loud sigh.

" You're falling in love, you dumb f*ck !"

At the word, Penny's face freezes and his smile goes downwards as he realizes that his older brother is right.

" Oh, sh*t.."

He curses and Pennywise frowns, as Penny hates curses.

" Language ! I'm the only one allowed to use curses, remember ?!"

Penny nods before asking in a worried tone.

" How do I get rid of it ? I don't like it.."

Pennywise can't help but feel sorry for Penny, as he knew better than anyone that there was no turning back..

" I'm sorry kid. But if it's really love ? You can't..like I can't.."

Penny's eyes widen at his brother's confession.

" You..You..love her too ?"

Pennywise seems to realize what he just said and groans before walking away. He didn't want anyone to know, even though Penny is his brother. Penny understands the wish of his brother to be left alone and starts walking out in the garden to think over what his older brother said..Could it be ? Could he really be falling in love ?

Bonus : The deal

The Horde is blindfolded and dragged to another room where a man and a woman are waiting for them. At first look, he can already tell that this man is one of the unworthy. The unbroken. The weak..His interest is cut short and he then turns towards the woman sitting next to him. Now, this one was interesting..Her eyes betrayed a much deeper complexity and she had a scar running from her forehead to her left cheek that proved she was worthy.

" You..You are broken. Rejoice.."

The woman smiles, but before she could start talking, her partner does it for her.

" Mister Wendell Crumb, we have a mission for you."

But Kevin only grits his teeths at the man.

" You are impure..I want to kill you.."

The man arks an eyebrow, but ignores his threat.

" Fine. Whatever. But first, I want you to be my spy. We didn't get you out of this prison for nothing, mister Wendell Crumb. We want you to be our little spy in the facility. We want you to find out how a certain miss L/N managed to control the patients outside of the facility. Do that, and you'll be as free as a bird..Do we have a deal ?"

He frowns, they wanted him to spy on a nurse ? She must be quite special for them to go to such lengths, to use him as a spy..Yes, quite the unique prey. The Beast was already impatient and Kevin licks his lips before nodding.

" Fine, but on one condition. When you're finished with her, I get to eat her heart.."

The request seems to take the man aback, but it is the lady that Kevin is looking at. She smiles coldly before nodding in agreement.

" Deal."

Kevin finally smiles widely and can't help the excited giggle that gets out from deep within him. Then, the dark and low voice of the beast makes itself heard as the smile grows almost ferocious as he announces. .

" Let the hunt begin.."

#fandoms #fanfic #imagine #slashers #pennywise 1990 #pennywise 1990 x y/n x pennywise 2017 #pennywise 2017 #pennywise x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #number five x reader #arthur x reader #the joker x reader #jason voorhees x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader

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redorich · 4 years ago

Note

for the hermit canyon, i humbly request:

Etho messing with Karl and maybe like, Lazarbeam or Fundy, by pretending he’s moth man.

Quackity stalks through the woods, blissfully unaware of its other inhabitants-- not that he would care, if he knew. No, tonight, under the full moon (because it's romantic) he makes his move.

The Hermit, as Quackity is completely sure of, is a beautiful young woman with long flowing hair as white as snow. Because she is a creature of untold power and beauty, fairy tale logic obviously applies. Therefore, if Quackity can steal her clothes, she will have no choice but to marry him and they will live happily ever after as big booty bitches in love.

Nodding to himself, Quackity feels assured in his logic. He's wearing his favorite assless chaps, his best pair of knockoff Yeezys, and no shirt. He is ready for what is to come.

---

Karl lurks deep in the forest, illuminated only by the moon. He leans against a tree, taking care not to disturb his outfit-- he is camouflaged as a bush. Dangling strips of green and brown fabric cover his body, and his limbs are completely hidden in the costume so long as he stands still. It's a daunting task, standing still in the dark, dangerous woods at night. Nevertheless, Karl knows that this is what he must do.

"Triclops Mothman, my beloved," he whispers into the night. He will find Mothman, and he will marry Mothman. There is no alternative.

---

Far away from both Karl and Quackity, though still in the same spruce forest, Sapnap angrily prowls. Well, he'd describe it as a prowl. Truthfully, it's more of a pouty stomp. He knows that this forest has had multiple "Hermit sightings", and Sapnap wants-- no, needs what he's after.

"Hermit!" he screams into the night. "Come out and fight me, you little bitch! Man on man!"

To emphasize his point, he bangs a pot and a pan against each other several times. Sapnap is getting his revenge for that little ravager prank, one way or another.

---

Deep within the canyon walls, the Hermit complex looks like an overturned anthill with all its activity. It's Halloween night come early.

"I'm not wearing a dress," Etho insists.

Grian whines, "But Etho, I made it just for you! It matches Stress's outfit."

Stress, upon hearing her name, looks up from her book and waves. Cleo is currently fiddling with the thick mane of synthetic white hair Stress is wearing, styling the wig into a princess-y type braid.

"I'll say it again," Cleo says, looking very intently into Etho's eyes, "I could take your place."

"No," Etho sighs. "If what Puffy said about these guys is true, you'd probably bite someone's face off by the end of the night."

"You're no fun," Cleo huffs, but acquiesces.

"At least put on the wig," Grian demands.

Grian and Etho have a staring contest for a solid ninety seconds before Etho snaps his fingers in front of Grian's face, causing him to flinch and blink. "You cheater--!"

"I'll wear the wig," Etho interrupts Grian. Instantaneously, Grian loses his outraged moue.

Cleo sighs. "They're the same wig, right? Do I have to braid Etho's hair, too?"

"I think I'll be fine with my new flowing, luscious locks," Etho says with a humorous crinkle to his eyes.

They all laugh as Etho dramatically flips his fake hair, whipping himself in the face with it in the process. He also receives a thumbs up from Joe, who is in the process of searching for his contact lenses because "Herobrine doesn't wear glasses", according to Bdubs.

Night falls, and the Hermits are prepared. They hope their victims aren't.

---

Quackity catches a glimpse of silver-white after so long searching in the woods. With a little gasp, he eagerly pursues it. His beautiful maiden, ethereal and distant like the moon, darts between trees and leaps across creeks like she is flying, like her feet barely touch the ground.

He follows her to a clearing, but when he bursts through the brush into the open space, she is nowhere to be found.

“Mi rey!” he wails, “Fantasma hermosa! Come to papi!”

Etho, hiding in a tree about five feet away, has no clue what any of those words mean. He affects a terrible falsetto and throws his voice. “Hello, Quackity.”

Quackity jumps, looking around wildly for his beautiful girlboss queen. “Hermit?! You know my name?”

“Of course, Quackity,” Etho says, hefting a large rock in his hand. “Come closer, I have a cask of Amontillado we can share.”

Quackity turns toward Etho's voice just fast enough to catch a glimpse of the Hermit's mask, his (fake) long white hair, his decidedly not female appearance. Quackity looks the Hermit up and down. Etho has never felt more Perceived.

"What's a place like you doing in a guy like this?" Quackity says, flirtatiousness dripping from his voice.

Etho eyes the man's assless chaps with distaste from his crouched perch in a tree. Quick as lightning, he chucks the heavy rock in his hand at Quackity's head, knocking him out instantly.

Etho jumps down from his tree with a huffed sigh. "Well," he says, grabbing Quackity by the ankle and dragging him, "time to get to work."

---

"Pspspsps," Karl whispers, "heeeere Mothman..."

The sound of a twig snapping to his right makes Karl freeze, then turn ever so slowly. There's no one there. Karl holds his breath for what feels like an eternity, but is eventually forced to admit that the noise was probably just an animal. Surely, a creature of Mothman's size would make more noise when he walks, given the weight of his strong legs.

"Mothman," Karl says. "I wrote you a poem!"

Joe, who was up until this point hiding behind trees and ominously snapping twigs, feels a twinge of morbid curiosity. As a poet, he absolutely has to know what Karl considers an adequate love poem for Mothman.

With red cheeks, Karl professes his love:

"Your feelers make me feel so sweet

Your hindwings set my heart aflame

Fern-like antennae make me melt

And Mothman, you're to blame."

Despite himself, Joe is a little bit impressed. It almost makes him feel bad about what he's about to do-- almost.

A soft eerie glow seeps into the forest, catching Karl's eye. He investigates, creeping forward until he turns around a tree and sees glowing white eyes. He screams, but there is no sound, and the forest has disappeared. Only those eyes remain, and they too flicker out of existence.

There is a dim corridor ahead of him, narrow and lit by redstone torches. At the end, there is an iron door. He runs to the exit, but as soon as his hand touches the door it disappears and he is engulfed by swirling purple-- like a Nether portal, but so much more terrifying.

The purple is gone and he can just barely make out the menacing image of a man with glowing white eyes T-posing in the blackness. Karl opens his eyes and wakes up on the forest floor, prone and sore.

"Right," he mutters breathlessly to himself, "Mothman is not interested."

---

"--YOU BITCH ASS PUNK, I'M GONNA RIP YOUR LEGS OFF AND STICK 'EM ON YOUR HEAD!" Sapnap screams, banging the only pot he owns against a non-stick frying pan he stole from George.

"Well, that's not very nice, innit?" says a feminine voice. Sapnap looks left, right, behind him, up in the trees... then down.

Big brown eyes peer up at him through white bangs. A displeased pout set into a moon-pale face attached to an equally moon-pale woman chastises him without words.

"...You're the Hermit?" Sapnap says disbelievingly. He has his doubts that someone as small and pretty as this woman could wrangle a ravager onto his front lawn.

"You wanted a fight," she huffs. "And for the record, you totally had it coming, with Pamela's Revenge-- remember, the rava--"

"Yes, I know the ravager was named Pamela's Revenge! There were like eight hundred million death messages in chat about it, you jackass!" Sapnap snaps, trying to cover up his unease. It's not that he's hesitant to hit her because she's a girl; he would deck the shit out of Niki or Puffy with absolutely no provocation whatsoever. It's just that... she looks soft. Like a non-combatant. It would be too easy, too cruel--

Stress punches Sapnap in the jaw with a wicked right hook. "Stealing is wrong," she says.

While Sapnap is dazed and quite possibly mildly concussed, Stress follows up with a brutal kick to the shin. Sapnap makes a genuine effort to fight back, and he’s no slouch, but he’s been taken so thoroughly off guard that the best he can do with his head spinning as it is is to swing with a wild haymaker and hope it hits.

His fist makes contact with something soft and squishy. He hears a grunt, but Stress shoves him over onto the ground and dumps a bucket of glitter over his head. It burns his eyes, but more importantly it burns his pride. He doesn’t remember at what point he dropped his pot and pan (he must have at some point, because he punched the Hermit with an empty fist), but he’s angry enough to open his watery eyes through the magenta glitter and snatch George’s frying pan up off the forest floor, hurling it at the Hermit with devastating accuracy. She yelps, blocking with her forearm at the last moment.

“Knew I shoulda let Etho...” Sapnap hears the Hermit mutter. What’s an Etho?

Stress irritably bonks Sapnap on the head with the pan he threw at her. He goes limp like a ragdoll, and Stress sets about maneuvering his body into a sitting position leaned against a tree so she can do his makeup while he sleeps.

“Hope I don’t poke his eye out!” she says. “Ah well, he’s got two anyway. Now, should I go for a cute, summery look, or a dark evening look?”

---

In Atrium 1 of the Hermit Canyon complex, Puffy laughs loud and clear, clutching her paper cup tightly so she doesn’t spill her fruit punch. "No,” she chokes out, “he didn’t.”

Cub, holding a similar paper cup, waves his hand in a vague gesture. “Yep. That’s Etho for you. You know, one time he got Doc to run around with a snowman head on, eating spider eyes?”

“Oh man,” Puffy sighs, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of her eye. “I’m so glad I snitched on Karl, Quackity, and Sapnap. I can’t wait to see their reactions!”

Cub grins evilly. “Stress got pictures before she left.”

Puffy gasps, stars in her eyes. “I’ll bake you a whole cake if you get me a copy.”

“I’ll bake Cub a whole cake if he gives them to me instead,” Grian interjects from across the room. “I don’t need them, I just want to take them from you.”

“Nooooo!” Puffy wails melodramatically. “Grian, please spare me!”

“Five diamond blocks,” Grian makes his demand.

Puffy continues to fake-sob, pretending not to notice Scar sneaking up on Grian until Scar drops an anvil on Grian’s head, like a Looney Tunes episode but slightly to the left. While Grian is distracted, Cub slips the pictures to Puffy, who puts them in her inventory without looking.

Etho walks into the Atrium, now dressed as his normal self, including his natural hair, which looks like an angry wet cat perched atop his head, just the way he likes it. Everyone cheers.

“So, how’d it go with Quackity?” Puffy asks with a smirk.

“Well...” Etho says.

---

Quackity wakes up with the sun in his eyes. In front of him is the public Nether portal, and standing right in front of it is a wide-eyed Sam, staring directly at him. Quackity looks down.

He’s naked, covered in half-dried honey, and tied to a pole like the world’s sexiest flag. And he’s got the world’s worst hangover-- it feels like he’s been hit in the head with a large rock.

“Not again,” he groans.

“...This happens often?” Sam asks.

“If I had a nickel for every time something like this has happened,” Quackity says, wiggling his way out of the ropes tying him to the pole, “I’d have enough money to go buy myself a pair of pants.”

Sam averts his eyes to the sky, abruptly aware of exactly why Quackity would feel the need to buy a pair of pants.

“Damn it,” Quackity says. “Those were my favorite pair of assless chaps.”

“Were they now,” Sam says numbly. The sky is quite blue today, it’s rather beautiful.

Quackity huffs in aggravation, finally having freed himself from his binds. “Yeah, they just don’t make ‘em like they used to, you know?”

“Not really, no,” Sam says slowly. “I wouldn’t know much about-- assless chaps.”

The naked man shrugs. Haltingly, Sam unclasps his cape, pulling it off his shoulders and offering it to Quackity.

“Nah,” Quackity says, “I’ll just streak.”

“Please don’t,” Sam says with pain in his eyes.

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #hermit canyon au #quackity #karl jacobs #sapnap #grian #ethoslab #stressmonster #zombiecleo #captain puffy #joe hills #goodtimeswithscar #cubfan135 #awesamdude #me.cpp #me.txt

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Life size mannequin.

Erik’s girl uses him as a mannequin but Erik takes it too far and it back fires.

If you were to ask Y/N how she gets everything done she wouldn’t be able to give you a straight forward answer. Juggling school, a full time job, and a side hussle isn’t for the delicate and inadequate. Staying up until 2 AM with flash cards sprawled out on the living room table and a ratty mannequin head between her legs every night, Y/N fights much needed rest to recharge for the next days events. That’s not the only thing her teeming life has to offer. Y/N’s new boyfriend, Erik would be seen as a distraction to some but she can hold her own without slacking on her studies, missing a days work, or forgetting to do a clients hair. He’s handsome, fun, intriguing, smart, and that dick...it needs its own SSN and certificate. It’s own area code even. If she had to admit it, whenever her mind drifted to their bodies tangled in her sheets, moaning and groaning, she lost focus just a little bit.

Y/N is off on a Friday for once and instead of catching up on rest, Y/N decided to use her entire day making a closure wig for a friend and client. It’s a 24 inch body wave natural black lace frontal. No shedding, very soft, bouncy, with overall great quality. If only her lousy mannequin head would keep still!!! Y/N gave up after the mannequin head slipped from her grip. She usually has a wig stand with a mannequin head attached to the end but all of them are covered with other wigs that didn’t need to be ruined. The old fashioned way brought her back to how frustrating it was to practice. And to make things worse, Erik is strolling back and forth in front of her naked after his shower and completely ignoring her closet stocked with plenty of towels. When he stopped in front of her, his strapping thighs and that lethal weapon dangling she felt her face grow warm and her belly grow butterflies.

“You’re not helping, jerk,” Y/N said as she continued sewing. She was almost finished.

“I haven’t seen you in a few days and the one time I have a chance to spend time with you, this is what you do.”

“This wig is past due, Erik. I was supposed to get this to her two days ago. Thank God she had some shit going on herself otherwise I would be losing a client.”

Erik gave up trying to seduce Y/N and grabbed a pair of briefs from his travel bag.

“Whatever, you owe me some after this,” Erik sat down on the bed, leaning on one elbow, “You really into this.”

“And?” Y/N sassed.

“I’m just saying. Why not be a full time hair stylist?”

“Because I don’t want to do this for a living. Why else would I be in school for something that has nothing to do with hair? It’s just money to make on the side.”

The mannequin slipped again and Erik burst out laughing.

“I wanna see you try it since you find my struggle funny.”

“Oh, you don’t want me to do it I’ll fuck that whole wig up.”

Y/N ignored his smart remark.

“I’ll come over there and mess that shit right up and make you start over.”

“Erik, I’m not in the mood right now leave me alone,” Y/N cut her eyes at him, “Try me if you want I will take the end of this needle and dig it in one of them keloids. Make it pop like bubble wrap, think I’m playing.”

“You forget you’re talking to someone with a pain kink. Why you think my pain receptors fucked up?”

“So, you mean to tell me, if I boil some hot water right now and pour it on your leg...you wouldn’t feel pain?”

Erik frowned his face into a mug at Y/N as he cocked his head back. The widening of his eyes is what made her giggle.

“You don’t know how to love me all you wanna do is hurt a nigga. What is wrong with you?”

“I’m only messing with you—”

“No you’re not. If I say some shit you don’t like I get slapped upside my head. If I want to be in a playing mood you threaten me with that little fist of yours. Just admit it, you enjoy tormenting me.”

“You’re so Goddamn dramatic,” Y/N tilted her mannequin head forward, “Can you do me a huge favor?”

“If it involves getting up off this bed the answer is fuck no,” Erik said while lying on his back now with his legs hanging over the edge of the bed.

“I already know you’re about to say no but...I want you to let me use you as my mannequin.”

“Huh?”

The way his voice rose an octave has Y/N laughing.

“Can you let me put this wig on you so I can finish this?”

Erik’s brows shot up as his eyes landed on her, “Why? So you can sneak and take a picture? I’m not falling for that.”

“Erik c’mon now. I just need your head for a second and that’s it.”

“I can think of other ways you can use my head but instead you wanna put some weave on me.”

Erik sat up and swung his legs around to face Y/N. Erik leans forward on his knees, staring at the wig with a steady blink.

“What size is that shit anyway? You know I have locs so...how the hell is that supposed to fit on my head?”

“I’ll just...fit it over that pineapple on top of your head.”

“Jokes,” Erik reached up and took out the elastic band that held his tapered locs. Shaking his head, his locs fell over his eyes, “I’m not putting that on my head.”

“Not even for me?” Y/N pouts, “Not your favorite girl?”

“I know you, Y/N. You’re gonna put that shit on my head, take a picture, and post it. I’m not falling for the shit. I told you that.”

“Whatever. You got a big ass dome anyway and this wig is average size.”

“Now you’re tryna clown me?” Erik said with a half smirk on his full lips flashing a bit of his gold canines.

“It’s like...mad wide from front to back...no wonder you keep your hair long—”

“I know you ain’t talking shit with that ginormous ass forehead, girl.”

“I thought you said all the fine girls got big foreheads?” Y/N bat her lashes at Erik.

“That’s what’s helping you out. First time I saw you I was thinking damn, this bitch got a big ass forehead. And don’t think I forgot about how you played me when you sent that cropped picture.”

“Boy, fuck you!!” Y/N shouted over Erik’s laughter.

“I was—I was looking at the picture like where the rest of her face go?!”

Y/N glared at Erik as he dissolved into laughter.

“It’s really not that funny. Now are you gonna help me or not?!”

“Aight, I’ll do it this one time.” Erik sat up with one hand resting against his abdomen while the other wiped away tears, “Where do you want me?”

“On the floor between my legs, DUH where the fuck else would you be?”

He began dying laughing again from Y/N’s obvious annoyance. Erik took his place on the floor while Y/N climbed behind him onto the bed with each leg dangling on either side of him. Y/N takes the wig from the mannequin and before she placed it on Erik she tilted his head back more for easier access. Grabbing the half-done wig, Y/N fluffed out the ends before arranging it over Erik’s locs. Even at their short length it was a challenge to fit the wig the way she needed it.

“Can you PLEASE keep still?” Y/N prompted.

“I’m not even moving. This wig just don’t fit.”

Y/N applied force and wiggled it over his locs causing Erik’s head to rock back and forth aggressively. He growled before reaching behind him to grab her hands. The wig looked much shorter on him in the back from how prominent his back and shoulders are. Erik turned to face her with his lips tight and face frowned, the wig making him look ridiculous and silly. Y/N folded her lips into her mouth but the urge to laugh caused her cheeks to puff out.

“If only you knew how tight my fucking head feels right now. I can’t even smile without this shit feeling like my scalp is being pulled. This better come off when we’re done or that’s your ass.”

“Erik, turn around. I only have one section to do and then you’re free. Next time, don’t ask me to help you with shit if you’re gonna act like this.”

Erik sucked his teeth and faced forward so Y/N could continue. He lowered his head so she could work on the back area.

“Can I ask you something, babe?” Y/N said.

“What?” Erik replied.

“Do you mind modeling this for me—”

“See, I knew this shit—”

Erik stood up before Y/N could wrap her arms around him. He walked over to the full body mirror in her room to look at himself and that’s when he couldn’t hold back his own laughter.

“Yo, what the fuck do you have on my head!” Erik played with the strands while turning his head from side to side, “I look like James Brown, AYE!!!!”

Y/N was in stitches when he mimicked James Brown in the mirror. She fell back against her bed hollering from the way he looked.

“Nah, I’m not drunk right now I need to be drunk to enjoy this,” Erik leaned into the mirror, “I look better than half the bitches that come in here to get their hair done. Let me find out.”

“You are so STUPID!!!!” Y/N yelled between giggles.

“I’ll be back,” Erik left the room with the wig swaying from side to side since it wasn’t fully secure.

“Where are you going?!” Y/N shouted from the bed.

Erik didn’t respond to her loud voice. When he returned two minutes later he had a cup in one hand and his bottle of Hennessy in the other. Erik sat both the cup and the bottle on Y/N’s cluttered dresser to make himself a drink.

“This was supposed to be a quick thing now you’re drinking.”

Y/N watched Erik from her relaxed spot on the bed. Erik took two sips of his drink before standing in front of her mirror again.

“What are you doing?!”

Y/N couldn’t even finish her words when Erik started shimmying his shoulders and snapping his fingers to a soundless beat. Hooting with laughter Y/N could feel wetness on her cheeks.

“IM DONE!!!”

“This shit give bad bitches super powers.” Erik said

“Let me find out you wanna wear a weave now.” Y/N jokes.

Erik brought his cup to his lips and drank more Hennessy while moving his hips. This was too good not to get a video. With Erik being his usual silly self, Y/N snatched up her phone from the floor before pulling up her Instagram to record him. On her story, Y/N focused the camera on her boyfriend when he started singing the lyrics to Lady Marmalade.

“Gitchi gitchi, ya ya, da da. Gitchi gitchi, ya ya, here!!”

“Oh my God!!” Y/N cried out with a chuckle before ending the video. She uploaded it to her story before quickly tossing her phone towards the end of the bed.

“Creole Lady Marmalade!!!!!!!!”

“You hardly had anything to drink and you’re acting like this? Lord.”

“Aight, I’m done for now,” Erik made his way back over to Y/N with his cup, “put on a movie or something.”

“Ohhhhhh!!! So you’re asking me to pick this time?! I get to make a decision, Erik?! Wowwwwwwwww!!!”

“Girl, shut up.”

Y/N chose a random movie for background noise while she finished. She was surprised at how content he was and it made her consider asking him to help more in the future. It was fun and it made her laugh. That’s one thing about Erik that she adores. He matches her sense of humor. Y/N heard a vibration and when she glanced over to look at her phone the screen is still black. Between her legs she could see Erik staring at a text message from his Lock Screen

“What the fuck is this nigga talking ‘bout.”

“Erik keep still—”

“Nigga who is Miss Man?!”

Y/N paused to peer over Erik’s shoulder.

“This nigga just called me Miss Man from Scary Movie.”

Erik tapped on the microphone on his keyboard to speak.

“Who the fuck randomly texts somebody that at 11 PM? Fucking weirdo ass nigga. Let me find out you want Miss Man for yourself.”

“Who is Miss Man— OH! The PE teacher that was sniffing the underwear?!!! hahahahahahahahahahaha!!!”

“This nigga...he said all you need is the underwear, skirt, nails, and makeup—wait.”

“And some long ass balls!!” Y/N snickered.

Erik whipped his head around and when Y/N met his fiery eyes she swallowed her laugh and it left an uncomfortable lump in her throat.

“Did you post me online wearing this wig, Y/N?”

“No.”

“I’m gonna ask you again. Did you post me online in this wig?

“Mm—mm. I did no such thing.”

“Then let me see your phone.”

Erik reached out for Y/N’s phone but she snatched it away. Erik moved his head to the side to flip some of the wig hair form his face but it fell forward again disobeying him.

“Did I? Uhhhh—OKAY OKAY!!”

It happened so fast. Erik has Y/N by the waist and up in the air.

“Yes, I did!! I’ll delete it.”

“You don’t listen to shit I tell you to do—”

“It was cute! You looked cute with it on—”

“You know what’s about to happen right?! I told you not to do that shit!”

“Erik, it’s all in fun. I’ll get rid of it—”

“That shit is embarrassing! What if I posted you online at your worse?”

“I don’t have a bad moment I always look good.” Y/N sasses.

“Says the girl that always complains about me taking off guard pics.”

“Erik, you’re not even at your worse. You act like I posted you looking bummy!”

Y/N kept her word and went to Instagram to delete. When she got there, she was met with at least ten DMs replying to her story.

Corythemua_: gurllll who is that? 👀 ooooh he is fione!!! Is he into guys?

Jermaine_87: Wtf is he doing?! 🤣🤣🤣🤣 let me text this nigga

Katriceee: how did you convince him to do this?! LOL

Amethyst1993: when he find out about this you are in trouble girl!!!

“did you delete the video yet?! Don’t let me find out it’s still there!”

“It’s gone! Happy?! What happened to being in a playing mood?!!”

“Now all my friends texting me and clowning me! You play too many games. Hurry up and help me take this shit off!”

Erik brushed some strands from his lips with his fingertips and Y/N squealed. Nothing he could say or do would make her listen. He looked absolutely hilarious with the wavy tresses of the wig moving in tandem with his brawny physique.

“Erik, I can’t take you seriously with that wig on.”

“Then take this off!!”

Erik attempts to pull it off but suddenly stops when he realizes he needs help.

“I want this shit off now, Y/N.”

“FINE! Come here.”

Y/N tapped the floor with her foot for Erik to take a seat. When he does, Y/N does the opposite of what he asks and begins to place his hair into two buns. She silently laughed behind him, praying that he wouldn’t hear her falling apart. When she was finished, Erik assumed she was done because he didn’t feel the hair tickling his skin. When he stood up to look in the mirror, Erik groaned loudly at his appearance before flexing his jaw at her threateningly to make her listen. It didn’t work at all for him. She couldn’t stop laughing.

“You look so crazy!!!!!” Y/N hugged her sides and rolled on the bed with laughter, “And that evil look is making it even funnier!!”

“I’m about to beat your ass if you don’t take this shit off!!! It wouldn’t be funny if this shit stuck now would it?!!! I gotta go to work and all that nah take this off—

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“Aight, are you finished?!” Erik said impatiently.

“Baby...you don’t understand...oh my God.”

“Y/N, for real, take this dumb ass wig off before I cut it off!”

“Okay okay!! Before I do...you gotta do one last thing for me...pretty please? With caramel sauce and a cherry on top? I’ll do whatever you want if you do this last thing for me.”

“.....”

“PLEASE BABY?!!”

“.....”

“Erik, look, it’ll be funny! I just want you to cat walk for me and then I’m done—”

“Ahhhhh HELL no—”

“Please—”

“For what?! So you can keep laughing?!”

“I’ll suck your dick, lick your balls—”

“Girl, that won’t work on me—”

“You sure about that?”

Y/N poked her tongue out and started doing tricks with it to show off her tongue ring. Erik’s eyes squinted at her but she could tell from his breathing that he wouldn’t be able to fight it much longer. He even said so himself that her head game makes him weak and no woman before her has ever made him weak.

“...from here to the bed and that’s it.”

Y/N smiled victoriously.

Erik placed his hands on his tapered waistline before lowering his head. Y/N could hear him silently laughing to himself before he lifted his head displaying an adorable dimpled smile. He started strutting towards Y/N with stiff hips and two left feet. All this from her flicking her tongue. Y/N stared at him with her mouth hanging open and eyes wide. He had a focused look on his face and the wig with its two buns flopped up and down messily like bunny ears. He struck a pose with his hip jutted out before he started to vogue. At that point, Y/N couldn’t take it any longer. She had to grab onto Erik so she could catch her breath. Soon, Erik’s deep laugh could be heard.

“You get on my nerves,” Erik sat beside Y/N, “now, can you take this off of me?!”

“Turn around,” Y/N took down the buns before carefully sliding the wig off from front to back, “You’re off the hook after that I’m gonna go back to using this mannequin head.”

“Yeah, finish up so I can spank that ass for posting me on social media.”

Y/N did a double take, “I’m still in trouble?!”

“Yeah, you’re not off the hook.”

The remaining time Y/N finished her clients wig, she thought up all possible ways he could punish her this time.

“Can I have a kiss?” Y/N asked with a sweet sounding voice.

“Yes,” Erik poked his thick, moist lips out and Y/N pressed her soft lips against them.

“Mmm...still in trouble, ma,” Erik whispered.

#funny #nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction #erik killmonger

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halaboyz · 4 years ago

Text

–– PHOTOGRAPH // CHANHEE.

pairing: photographer! chanhee x fem! reader genre: fluff, bffs to lovers word count: 2k warnings // notes: profanities, cliche, cheesy things and shitty effort of making lines ;; happiest birthday to our choi chanhee!! may he be blessed for his heart full of love <3

"You're coming to my exhibit, right?" He said as he hands you one of the tickets, and you chuckling because of the name of his exhibit.

"What kind of name is this?" You stifled a laugh, "My Art Speaks Words I Want to Deliver to You,"

Chanhee watches you hold on to dear life as you burst out laughing, wiping the tears that have escaped your eyes.

"Well, if only the linguistic major here helped me pick out some words I don't even know exists," He glares at you, "Then maybe we could've picked a better name, am I right?" He rolls his eyes as you calmed down, finally taking a seat beside him on the couch.

“Okay, okay Mr. grumpy, I’m sorry,” You said between laughter. Looking at the time and date, you nod, your smile slowly fading to a frown.

“What’s wrong? You can’t come again?” He frowns with you, a pout coming out of his lips. Your heart broke by the sight, knowing that even if he had hundreds of exhibits already, you haven’t come to one because of work.

“I’m afraid I’m gonna have to miss this one too,” You tackled him into a hug. “I have a very important meeting set by last minute,” You mumbled against the crook of his neck, causing him to whine.

“I was so sure you’d go to this one though..” You hear him mumble, as a sigh came out.

“How are you so sure?” You raised your eyebrows at him, sitting up.

“I checked your schedule!” He exclaimed, getting the ticket from you. “I can’t help it. You always have work when I handle an exhibit and wow, are you still my best friend?” He dramatically stands up, making his way to the other couch in front of you.

“Aw,” You whined, tailing him and throwing yourself at him again making him groan. “Give me that,” You reach for the ticket, only to be pulled by Chanhee again.

“Can’t you just cancel it?” He pouts, looking desperate.

“Look, I’m not the client. I can’t just cancel whenever,” You pressed his cheeks together, wiggling his face. “But give me the ticket. If they can set meetings last minute, they might cancel things last minute too. We’ll never know,” You reached higher, grabbing the ticket.

Chanhee huffed, making you lose your footing and it all happened so fast, you instinctively put out your elbow to support your fall– well, on the floor. You didn’t know Chanhee had that goddamn fast reflexes as he pulls you close to him, making you elbow his.. danger zone.

You shrieked as chanhee silently suffers, his face saying it all.

“Oh my fucking god..” You muttered, pressing your lips to a thin line to stop yourself from bursting in laughter.

Chanhee lets out a small groan as you slowly remove your elbows, your face mirroring Chanhee’s pained face.

“I’m so sorry,” You mumble, letting out a small laugh.

“I’d kill you if you laugh right in front of me,” He sighs out, crouching and wriggled his body all over the couch.

You were red. Oh, no. Not because of what just happened, but because you were stopping yourself from laughing. You knew Chanhee meant every word he said.

“You should fucking go at my exhibit after busting my balls,” He mumbled against the throw pillow.

“Hey! Not my fault you pulled me!”

You were redder. Oh, no. Not because you were now suppressing your laughter, but how you remembered how close Chanhee was to you just minutes ago if it weren’t for his unfortunate luck.

He suddenly stands up, wincing.

“Are you kidding me?! If it weren’t for me, you’re injured and crying and we’re probably on the way to the hospital right now!” He sighs out, the pain finally fading second by second.

You fanned yourself, trying to focus on what your friend was saying.

“Anyways,” You shake your head. “I’ll do my best.” You smile at him apologetically before sticking out your tongue, and ending the night while getting tackled by Chanhee– as if he was possessed by Changmin.

You bounced your feet continuously, waiting for your client. You just prayed for it to be really, really short to get to Chanhee’s exhibition.

You knew how important this was to him, and it broke your heart that as his best friend, you can’t even go to one.

Or was it because you’re starting to see Chanhee in a whole, different light?

There are a few times that your heart thumped abnormally at the sight of Chanhee frowning, and you can’t put your finger on which emotion was it. Did it hurt you because you were his best friend and you can’t go, or did it hurt because you were still a best friend? Either way, if it were the latter, if you were his girlfriend– no, you didn’t deserve him.

You can’t even make time for him as a best friend, how’d you do if you were his?

Starting to overthink, you were thankful by the sound of your phone rang for a second, signaling a message.

chanhee: go or this friendship is over. grr sent 3:35pm

You knew he was joking. Partly, you guess. Or maybe not. You suddenly became nervous, your feet bouncing doubled. You sip on the drink, you had twenty-five minutes left to run over his exhibit, but the client–

You jump as your phone suddenly rang, making you tremble. Your client was finally calling, after being late for fifteen minutes already.

And oh my god, your heart could have burst from the news. You hailed a taxi as fast as you can, and the smile on your face can’t stop rising.

Finally. You were finally getting to see his exhibit.

You smile more at the thought, more to expect of Chanhee’s reaction. You felt nervous, excited, and giddy. It wasn’t the first time seeing Chanhee’s works, as he’d been part of the photography club since college, but it still made you excited and proud of what he’s become.

You sighed in relief as you look outside, the big name– My Art Speaks Words I Want to Deliver to You welcoming you.

3:50.

Ten minutes. You just need to run, no biggie.

“Hi, I’m uh.. Chanhee’s friend.” You smile at the guard, handing him your ticket while still trying to catch your breath.

“Oh! You’re! You’re! You’re the friend!” He exclaimed, excitedly opening the door for you. “You’re just in time! Well, technically, you’re.. running a bit late but! Doesn’t matter. You’re finally here!” You just look at him confusingly, nodding your head as you roam your eyes on the big place.

Your heartbeat is twice as fast more than running.

You felt combusting quite literally. Your eyes wandered to each picture, letting it sink in that those in the pictures..

Were you.

It was all you.

There were only a few people left, smiling as they take in every photograph that wasn’t even them.

“These are so sweet. The name of the exhibit literally says it all,” A woman in her middle 30s, you guess, said as she clung to her probably husband’s arm.

“It does. The photographer’s indeed talented. Even makes me giddy,” You chuckle as you eavesdropped, reverting your attention back to the pictures.

All was black and white.

But it didn’t matter.

What colored his world was you– it has always been you.

A black and white picture doesn’t do justice to how much light you bring to his dull world, it was just you that he needed in order to make a simple black and white picture to be beautiful.

Your smile. It was one of the things he loved seeing, he loved taking a picture of. It made everyone around you smile too, and it made him upset that it wasn’t just him making you smile.

Your hair, how every single hairstyle suits you, how it flows across your face, and how you always brush it back when it frustratingly gets in your face. One of his favorites and loved taking a picture of it along with the pout on your face.

Your eyes, which spoke a thousand words and held millions of stars and also one of the millions of things he loved about you, and seeing it on a picture didn’t make sense as you needed to see it in person to make you feel butterflies on your stomach.

Every move you did was captured on his camera, and you didn’t even realize the tears have already gone out of your eyes.

He made you beautiful.

He made you feel beautiful,

Because you always were.

You didn’t need to be pretty in everybody’s eyes, you just needed him.

You were already in the last picture, and oh were you certain chanhee wasn’t the one who took this. You felt thankful enough Changmin, your other friend, had quite the skills in taking pictures too because this.. was just perfect.

You didn’t need to be pretty in everybody’s eyes, you just needed him. Because he is what completed you.

It was a picture taken afar of you sleeping in the library on one of your college days, and Chanhee was supporting his head with his palm, looking– just looking at you with heart eyes.

“Oh my fucking god,” You sighed out, crouching as you messily wiped your tears away, though it still kept on spilling.

“You’re finally here.” That sweet, familiar voice that enchanted you sighed out, from the corner of the four-walled place. He was leaning on the wall, looking as if he had finally had the burden out of his chest. “So, what do you think?”

Just like the pictures, you didn’t need words. You just throw yourself at him, nuzzling against his neck as you cried like a baby.

He sighs out again, relieved, as he buried himself more to you and engulfing each other’s warmth. His hands continued to calm you down by caressing your back, and you tried your best to stop crying.

Chanhee pulls back, taking your face to his hands and wiping your tears away.

“Hey, look at me,” He leans closer to you, lifting your face up softly. “If you didn’t get the whole point of this exhibition then.. I might just smack you in the face.”

You let out a small defeated laugh, wiping the tears yourself.

“I love you too if that was what it meant.” You look at him straight in the eyes, slouching your shoulders. You took his face into your hands too, pressing your lips softly in his.

He smiled in the kiss, his hands making their way to your neck as he kisses you back.

More than perfect.

The moment you were both out of breath, you break the kiss but let your foreheads linger with each other, smiles on your faces.

“Just.. how many times have you tried doing this?” You whisper, taking ahold of his hand and intertwining your fingers.

You pull him in front of the last picture you’ve seen, now clear as ever without your tears on the way.

“Oh, I think out of my hundred and fifty exhibits you missed,” You roll your eyes, the sarcasm his voice spilling. “It's my 98th try. That’s why I really needed you to come.” He looks at you, thinking it was much better seeing you in person rather than just a photograph– as if it's like the first time seeing you all over again.

“And if I didn’t come? Would you really have the guts to break this friendship?” You face him back, taking his other hand.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant I’d take it in my own hands and just.. straight up confess.” He craned his head sideward, challenging you.

“I’d been feeling very weird these days too, I just realized how much I am so in love with you if it weren’t for your art speaks words I want to deliver to me,” You chuckle, making him throw his head back.

Perfect.

Chanhee loved everything about photography, and he loved photography because it’s able to take what’s beautiful and he can cherish it forever. He loved it because not only it can take pictures of his friends, or nature, or what he found beautiful and calming, but it has the power to turn everything into a memory he can keep. He loved photography, he loved taking a picture of you, he loved you.

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lovesanmotion · 4 years ago

Text

Light - Jeong Yunho

summary: cool uncle by day but mafia boss at night, jeong yunho is ready for anything; except for falling in love.

tags: @couchpotatoaniki (yes i am tagging you bcs you blossomed this idea to me hihi)

A deep sigh left Yunho's lips, lighting up his cigarette and sticking it between his lips before releasing pearly white smoke. His once neat suit was now covered in sweat, dust and a trickle of blood from earlier events, singlehandedly killing a mafia group from the neighboring city. He lifted his wrist watch and checked the time - 10:01pm. Sandwiched between his middle and index finger, Yunho raises his cigearette stick onto his lips and puffed out a smoke.

His once cool composure broke when around the corner, the slim but curvy figure of his neighbor - y/n y/l/n came into view. She had her head hung low, shoulders drooping down and walking gloomily home. But Yunho stared at her. Around y/n, he felt like a high school boy who has a crush on her. He didn't also missed the fact that it was too late for y/n to go home. Work hours ends at 5-6pm, but 10? Yunho wondered if you took an overtime.

As y/n passed him by, he couldn't help but smile to himself. Feeling his face heating up. Getting up from the bench, he dropped his stick and stepped on it before following you home. With his hands tucked inside his pockets, Yunho wondered why you ever chose to live in a dangerous city like this. Was it because the rent's cheaper? Or to live close to your office?

He stopped his tracks and hid behind a pole, watching you get inside your home building safely. Watching you get home safely is what Yunho's been doing ever since you moved into the area and with a smile on his face, Yunho walks back home.

As the sun sets into the blue sky, Yunho packs up a lot of candies in his pocket before leaving his home and strolling to the neighborhood park. Clad in a bright red and white striped shirt and pants a bright smile on his face, Yunho would never be mistaken as someone who killed a group of guys last night. The cool breeze swept past him, causing his bangs to fly away.

As he found the children playing merrily and happily in the park, his heart swelled with an overwhelming feeling. How he wished these children would grow up into kind and humble adults. When the children saw him coming up to them, a chorus of "uncle Yunho!" greeted him, followed by all of them running up to him for a hug, some even hugging his legs.

Sitting down on the wooden bench, he gave each child a piece of candy and chocolate. Their little smiles upon tasting the fruity and sweet treats brought a smile on his lips too. However, Yunho mentally did a head count on the children.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. One was missing, and the one missing happened to be his favorite. He was about to open his mouth and ask them where y/s/n when a small but cheerful "uncle Yunho!" greeted him from behind. Turning around, his eye's widened.

His neighborhood crush, holding an ice cream cone with one hand and the other holding hands with his favorite child from the playground.

"Mommy this is uncle Yunho! He's the one who always watches us and gives us candy when we play here!" A deep shade of red plastered on Yunho's cheeks. Slowly he turned away and sunk a bit lower on his seat, feeling himself getting shy. But he was a little surprised to know that y/n has a son.

Yunho watched as y/s/n joined the other kids in the slide and on his left side became occupied by you.

"Doesn't it get a little sad when you watch them slowly grow up? One day they are only crying for attention and the next thing you know you walk with them to preschool." Y/N spoke, taking a lick on the vanilla cone.

"Do you have kids at home?" Yunho shook his head. But he would very much like to have one with y/n.

"I'm y/n by the way!" He looked at the hand extended out for him to shake before looking at your smile. Yunho's heart beated loudly inside his chest, not missing the sight of the ice cream on the corner of your lip. He slowly leaned in and raised his hand, wiping the cream away with his thumb.

"Nice to meet you, y/n. I'm Yunho." He smiled at you, seeing that pink tint across your cheeks. Yunho thanked the gods that this might be the chance for him to properly talk to y/n. He turned to his side and striked up a conversation with you, slightly getting distracted with the way how you lick your ice cream.

"Uh..hello? Earth to Yunho?" Yunho snapped out of his trance and shook his head, batting his eyelashes. Yunho stared at you. "What was that again?"

"I was asking you earlier if you wanted to have lunch with me and y/s/n. Think of it as a thank you for watching over my son." Turning his head, he saw the children leave one by one until it was your son left sitting in the swing.

"I-I would love to!" He blurted out, maybe a little too loud. Yunho suddenly backed away, suddenly feeling shy but he only found y/n chuckling at him.

"That was cute. Anyways, let's me show you where I live." As Y/N got up, so did he. He took the pleasure of carrying y/s/n in his arms as he followed you to your place, he had to pretend he didn't know where you lived. How was he going to explain that he has been following you for months already?

"Welcome to our place!" Spoke Y/N in a cheerful tone. The place didn't look half bad. As he sets y/s/n down and removes his shoes by the doorway, he took in the appearance of your place. It isn't big nor small, perfect for two people living, light wooden floors, cream colored walls, yellow and green cupboards and a mini bookshelf thats occupied by books about numbers, letters, alphabets and story books.

"This is a nice place you've got" Yunho says, sitting down on the couch only to be sunk lower as he didn't noticed how the couch was small.

"I guess I was lucky to find this one. More greenery in the province than just seeing buildings in the city." Y/N spoke, Yunho watched her enter the kitchen. He got up and excitedly followed her like a high school boy following his crush around school.

"What are you going to make there?" He asks as he stood behind Y/N making her jump a little. Yunho didn't realized how close he has gotten to her, but he felt like his heart would burst at how small she is close to him.

"Does pasta sound nice?" Y/N tilted her head to the side. If only his mornings were spent this close to y/n, Yunho would be in heaven already.

As Yunho was about to say something, in came little y/s/n holding his school bag.

"Mommy, can you help me with my homework?"

Two heads snapped to look at y/s/n who stood by the doorway of the kitchen.

"Your mom would love to!" Yunho smiled at y/s/n, held y/n by her shoulders and pushed her out of the kitchen despite her many protests against it. Yunho opened the fridge to check what ingredients were available, he grabbed whatever he needed and placed them on the counter and started cooking.

It was only like last night, he was using the very same knife to slice throats and now he's slicing meat with the same knife. But Yunho was only occupied by the merry thought of cooking for his crush.

After half an hour passed, Yunho beautifully plated three pasta bowls on the table. He gave himself a pat in the back for doing an excellent job and was about to call y/n and y/s/n to eat when he heard some talking.

"Mommy do you like uncle Yunho?" A small voice, y/s/n, as Yunho thought. His heart raced upon hearing this kind of conversation. There was a moment of silence, Yunho was fidgeting to know your answer.

"Mommy can uncle Yunho be my dad?" Yunho clutched his chest dramatically, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. But there it was again, that silence.

"Let's see, y/s/n. Want to see uncle Yunho if he's done?"

Yunho started to get up from his spot but hit his knee in the process, an inaudible sound came out of his mouth and suddenly the door swung open. Y/N and Y/S/N stared at him with a blank yet confused looks on their faces.

"Uh..lunch is ready!" Yunho smiled and instantly stood up from the ground. As he lead them to the kitchen, he was proud to see their expressions and sat down, paying attention to y/n's reaction before eating.

"So what do you do, Yunho?" Y/N asked while twirling pasta with her fork.

Yunho racked up his brain to think of what should he say. But he choked up in between.

"I'm unemployed at the moment" He says. There was no way he is ever going to tell that he kills people, raids warehouses and factories and regulates drug deals within in and out of the country. "What about you? What do you do for a living?" Yunho gulped the food down his throat before facing you.

"I, uh...I just work at, at a very boring corporate office. They don't pay much."

"Is that why you do overtime and get home late at night?"

"What?"

Yunho stared at y/n wide eyed. That was wrong of him suddenly mentioning it to you. He shook his head and carried on the conversation by changing the topic.

For the whole afternoon, Yunho stayed with Y/N and Y/S/N, watching kids movies while having a snack. Y/S/N falling asleep in the middle of the movie. Yunho took the pleasure of letting y/s/n sleep on his chest, he could get used to being a househusband. With the sun setting, Yunho thought it was best for him to go home. But was stopped by y/n to join them for dinner. On the outside, Yunho thanked you. But on the inside, Yunho was giggling.

He cooked once more in the kitchen, clogging out y/n's protests. Dinner became a happy meal as all three of them became full. While y/n was cleaning up in the kitchen, Yunho asked permission if he could take y/s/n out for a walk, promising he'd be home by 8pm.

Yunho took y/s/n to the convenient store, handing him a whole bar of chocolate in his small hands. But the little boy stared at him.

"But mommy says I can't have too much sweets" the small boy pouted.

"But your mom isn't here right? This'll be our little secret. You and me." Yunho grinned at the small boy who flashed a toothy smile in front of him.

"Uncle Yunho do you like my mommy?"

"Very much." Yunho suddenly stopped as he looked back at the child with him, now grinning at him.

"Okay, that's another secret between us. Don't tell your mommy about that too okay?" The small boy nodded his head quickly, Yunho held his hand and walked back home with him. Unaware of two eyes following them as they head back.

(gif is not mine! credits to the rightful owner!)

#ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #ateez oneshot #mafia!ateez x y/n #mafia!ateez x reader #mafia!yunho x reader #mafia!yunhoxy/n #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots

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headheartbellarke · 4 years ago

Text

JEALOUS | Luke Patterson

Requested by anon: “5 times Luke gets jealous and one time he doesn’t have too. Luke x reader?”

PAIRING(s): Mercer!fem reader x Luke Patterson WARNING(s): angst, fluff WORDS: 2.3k SUMMARY: Five times Luke Patterson gets jealous and one time he doesn’t have to.

A/N: hi! sorry this took so long, lol. school sucks. :/ i promise im gonna be posting more frequently from now onwards! anyway, decided to make y/n alex’ sister, bc i’ve been wanting to try it for a while. hope u like it!! <3 also, song used is carry me by kygo ft. julia michaels.

The first time that Luke Patterson feels that scorching, smoldering rage in the pit of his stomach is when he notices Y/N Mercer stare at his bandmate, Bobby Wilson, for the entirety of their hour-long Literature class.

At first, he doesn’t understand why he feels this way: Y/N’s just as much Bobby’s friend as she is his. Well, not really – Luke likes to believe that he is the one that she is closest to in the band, other than her brother, Alex, of course. Sure, Bobby and Y/N are friends – they say ‘hi’ when they pass by each other in the hallway, she helps him out with his Physics homework when he asks, and he asks her how her day’s been – that sort of friends. They’ve never really interacted more than it was required, and Luke knows that if Bobby wasn’t a part of their band, Sunset Curve, or if Y/N wasn’t their drummer’s sister, those two wouldn’t be friends.

Anyway, he thinks that maybe it’s because they are supposed to be partners, working on their assignment together – and instead, she is choosing to abandon him and stare at one of his best mates, instead. He thinks that maybe he’s mad because she promised him that she would help him out with this assignment, which is particularly hard, and now, it feels like he’s ditching her.

Instead of thinking about why he is so bothered at the fact that Y/N is staring at Bobby, Luke chooses to elbow her instead.

“What?” She whispers, a blush covering her cheeks.

“Can you focus?” He snaps as she rolls her eyes and opens their textbook.

“You’re annoying.”

“Alex, Alex, Alex!”

“Luke, I’m sitting right beside you – you don’t need to yell.”

“There’s something that you should know.” Luke whispers, conspiratorially. Alex, who’s sitting beside him on the couch in the garage where they rehearse, leans forward, intrigued. “What?”

He points at Y/N, who’s sitting in front of Reggie in the opposite side of the room, strumming a guitar – Reggie’s teaching her how to play. Unlike her twin brother, she’s not naturally gifted in music, which is pretty evident from her occasional frustrated huffs, and the obviously off-key tune. Rather, science is her talent, and has always been. The top spot in their class has been permanently occupied by her ever since their first exam as freshmen.

“She!” Luke whispers. Alex furrows his brows. “Yes, I know that she has no musical talent whatsoever –”

“No, no, no. I mean, yes, she doesn’t have that – but you wanna know what she does?”

“I have a feeling that you’re gonna tell me even if I don’t wanna know.” Alex mutters.

“She has a crush on Bobby!” Luke scrunches his face, a disgusted look taking over.

The drummer raises his brows and bursts out laughing. “Really, dude?”

“No, no, no, I’m not lying, okay! I’ve seen her stare at him!”

He raises his brows. “So? She stares at a lot of people.”

“It wasn’t that way, okay? Last week, in class, she was ignoring me and staring at him. Plus, yesterday, when you were god knows where, she and Bobby were having a conversation. An actual conversation! I’ve never seen them talk that much. They were nerding out over Star Wars!”

“Dude, are you…” Alex pauses, looking around, “… jealous?” A smile spreads over his features.

Luke’s eyes widen, and he looks horrified. “What? Me? Jealous? Huh? Me? How?”

Inside, he is panicking. He hadn’t considered this possibility. Is he jealous? No, that can’t be. Y/N – he’s known her forever, and he is supposed to think of her as his sister. He does think so. He’s sure. He can’t – he doesn’t like her. She’s just… Y/N. Sure, he’s always thought that she’s beautiful. And smart. And so, so kind. He’s always admired her. OK, he might have had a little crush on her. But, in a totally harmless, admiring way! (In the way everyone seems to like Winona Ryder these days. Nothing more than that. Absolutely.)

She’s just Y/N.

Y/N, who’s always there for him after he has a bad day. Y/N, who’s the first person he hugs after playing an intense show. Y/N, who’s the only person who can understand his silence. Y/N, who makes sure that he knows that she appreciates him. Y/N, who he knows like the back of his hand.

Before Luke can panic any further, Bobby enters the garage, and Luke notices her attention immediately shift toward him. They exchange a smile, and Luke feels that rage, yet again.

He falls back on the couch, locking eyes with Alex, who is silently watching with a soft smile on his face.

“I’m not jealous.” He says weakly, and Alex nods – but he knows that it doesn’t convince either of them. His friend lays a hand on his shoulder, whispering, “It’s okay.”

By the time the next month rolls around, Luke is positive that he’s jealous: so, he’s resorted to not thinking about it, her or even interacting with her – which is hard considering that she’s always around.

Now, he feels like shit. For their junior year, they are supposed to do a report on a Victorian era novel of their choice, with a partner. He and Y/N were supposed to partners – they had decided months ago and have also done previous assignments together. But now, since he hasn’t even dared to look at her in a month, she’s now doing the report with Bobby, of all people.

As he watches Bobby and Y/N sit next to each other with their arms brushing, he feels that rage again, and curses himself. Could he not have behaved like a normal person? He knows that she is confused as to why he’s suddenly ignoring and avoiding her – she has even asked her brother about it. But Luke had threatened Alex that he would tell everyone about his crush on Reggie if he even said a single syllable.

(Although Luke knows that he would never.)

He sighs, dramatically, and searches for someone else to pair up with, ignoring the way his heart clenches at the realization that he may be losing her.

“Luke?”

He looks up and feels a rush in his veins.

“Are you… mad at me?” Y/N asks tentatively, standing at the door to his bedroom. Her eyes keep flitting between his face and around his bedroom, and he hates the fact that there seems to be an ocean between them.

“Uh…” He scratches the back of his neck, not knowing what to respond. She looks down at her feet, biting her lip and Luke feels a tug on his heartstrings at that. It’s been so, so long and he has so, so much to tell her, but he doesn’t know how to bridge the gap that he created.

He builds up his courage and says, “Yeah. I was kinda mad at you.”

Her eyebrows furrow, and panic flows into her e/c eyes. “What – what’d I do?”

Luke inhales sharply and wonders what he’s gonna say. It’s not like he can say that he was jealous of the fact that she liked Bobby, nor could he say that in the past month he has realized the fact that he may have a tiny, little crush on her and had to avoid her at all costs because she will never like him back and it’s too embarrassing?

He clears his throat. “Uh. It’s because you promised that you would do the English project with me but you’re doing it with Bobby.”

“But I’m only doing it with him because you won’t even look at me! Why won’t you?”

“I… You also ignored me for Bobby the other day?”

She throws her hands up. “What other day?”

“When we were working on the Shakespeare thingy!”

“I was not – now you’re making –”

“Forget it. Just go home, Y/N.”

A look of hurt flashes over her eyes, but she quickly clenches her jaw, and stands straighter, masking her emotions. “Asshole.”

She walks out his door, slamming the door shut behind her.

For the rest of the day, Luke lies on his bed and stares at his ceiling, and when Reggie comes over, he tells him that he’s ruined everything. Reggie lies beside him and asks softly, “You okay?”

“I think I like Y/N.” He whispers.

“We know.”

His lips part and he says in disbelief, “Alex told you?!”

Reggie shrugs. “He didn’t need to. Everyone can see the way that you look at her.”

Luke sighs, too tired to argue.

“Hey. It’s just a date, alright? It’s not like they’re getting married.”

Luke props himself on his elbow. “What?”

“Y’know, Y/N’s really picky –”

“What date?”

Reggie’s eyes widen. “Y-You didn’t know?”

Luke raises his brows, urging his friend to continue. He purses his lips and says, “Y/N and Bobby are on a date right now.”

Instantly, Luke feels as if his world has drained of every colour. Reggie looks uncomfortable, and whispers, “I thought you knew.”

“I, uh, I didn’t. Obviously.” He whispers, falling back on the bed again. His heart physically hurts, and he can feel tears prick at the back of his eyes. Mostly, he feels anger – at himself, and regret.

As jealousy claws its way to the surface, Luke mutters, “I hate Bobby.”

Luke sits cross legged on the floor of the garage, with a Spanish guitar perched on his lap. His hands dance over the strings, trying to find the perfect melody for the song he just wrote.

Writing songs has always been his way of dealing with his emotions, especially when they got too intense. Right now, the situation with Y/N is exactly that.

His eyes dance over the notebook in front of him, and he closes his eyes, trying to forget everything that’s happened in the past couple of days.

“Cause I don't know how we How we got so far, you and me Almost like there's oceans between us, us So I need to know Could you carry me? Back into your heart again Could you carry me? Right into your distant hands Could you carry me? Right back to where we started from Could you carry me?”

“That’s beautiful.”

Luke’s head turns sharply to the side, and of course, it’s her. He clenches his jaws, and says, “What are you doing here?” He hates the fact that she looks so pretty, wearing a beautiful red sundress.

She bites her lower lip, and says, “We should talk, Luke.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

She giggles. “You’ve always been the jealous type.”

He raises his brows, opening his mouth to deny whatever she was about to say next, but she raises a hand to stop him. “Alex and Reg told me. They said that they’re tired of seeing you mope every day.”

“I –”

“Hold on. So, for the past month, you’ve been mad at me because you thought I like Bobby?”

Luke lowers his head, choosing to stare at his open palm instead.

“You ignored one of your best friends for more than a month because you were jealous, and you were too much of an idiot to tell her the truth?”

“Well, you don’t gotta be so mean about it.”

She laughs. “Luke. Bobby and I – we’re just friends, okay? I was staring at him because I really liked his hair. And you have to admit it – it’s nice. I actually asked him for his shampoo, too. But, well, you and him both thought that I liked him. That’s why he asked me out to the movies last day. But... uh, well, it didn’t work out.”

His heart races at the last sentence. “Why?”

“Because I like you, Luke. I always have. I thought I could like Bobby, I really did – but all I could think about last night was you.” She shrugs, and Luke feels like he’s falling. He thinks that the universe is playing a prank on him, but when he sees her crimson tinged face, the vulnerability in her eyes and her fiddling with her hands, he allows himself to feel the slightest amount of hope.

She looks down, continuing, “I, uh, I always thought that you only saw me as your best friend’s little sister. I didn’t ever think that, you know, that there could be something more. So, I kept it to myself and only Alex knew. But, last night, Reg came over and they were screaming for a while, about you and me, so I went to find out what happened, and they told me that you, uh, liked me too.”

Reggie. He must have told Alex that Luke was ugly crying on his shoulder.

“Please say something, Luke.”

He releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I – I feel like you’re pranking me.”

She grins. “No. No, definitely not.”

“Y/N, god, you have no idea how difficult this past month has been for me. I mean, I never realized that I liked you that much until I saw you with him, you know? I always thought that I had a tiny, little crush on you but I never… and I thought that Alex would kill me if I did anything, but he’s been oddly… nice about all this.”

“He’s just tired of hearing me talk about you.”

“Probably. But yeah. I think you’re brilliant, Mercer. And I really, really, really like you.”

She jumps a little, and whispers, “I really, really, really like you too.”

“Do you maybe wanna go to the movies with me?” His wide grin matches hers.

“Only if we watch part two of Father of The Bride.”

“Deal.”

+1.

Luke watches Bobby smile at Y/N, looking at her as if she’s put the moon in the sky. Although, this time, he doesn’t feel the rage. He doesn’t need to, really, with Y/N’s hand wrapped in his, and the ghost of her lips still lingering on his.

requests open! as always, feedback is highly appreciated <33

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zigtheeortega · 3 years ago

Text

come back to me

pairing | colt x mc

word count | 5.3k

warnings | blood, guns, bullets, wounds, and a mention of death. there’s a section of the fic where mc gets shot when a job goes awry – it’s used in a hurt/comfort scenario, but be warned that it’s in there! lmk if i need to use any other tags!

tags | @raleighcarrera, @pixeljazzy, @senatorraines, @jaxmatsuo, @rodappreciationweek

author’s note | i’ve never written a colt fic before, so i wanted to take a crack at a slowburn colt au – this fic takes place over the span of about ten-ish years (fifteen-ish total since the events of book one). i’m not the biggest colt expert so i hope i did him justice!

•─────────────────•

“If you ever ask me to do this much ass kissing again, I’m divorcing you.”

Colt flung himself onto the bed, still fully clothed, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Oh, stop being dramatic,” Raquel laughed, reaching back to unzip herself, the soft fabric of her sundress sliding down her body and onto the floor.

He hummed from his place on the bed, neck craning to watch her as she changed into her pajamas.

“Stop distracting me from being annoyed,” he grumbled, letting his head fall back, his gaze trained on the ceiling.

“Are you actually mad at me or are you just complaining to hear yourself talk?” She asked, but before he could respond she’d climbed on top of him, wrapping him in a koala hug, nestling her head under his chin.

Naturally, he hugged her back, his arms snaking around her waist.

He shrugged. “I’m not mad at you.”

She giggled into his chest, sending tremors up his body, the warmest kind. “You’re the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why you married me,” he kissed the top of her head. “You’re too good for me.”

Raquel pushed herself up till they were nose to nose, giving him a pointed look. “I haven’t been too good for anyone since we were kids.” She pressed a quick kiss on his lips, intending to pull away, but he gripped her chin before she could, kissing her deeply.

He’d never get tired of that… and he’d never get tired of her.

For the longest time, he thought it was too far-fetched to expect he’d find someone willing to stick around through all of his bullshit, much less someone who’d legally binded herself to him.

He was still in awe with how it played out.

He’d returned to Los Angeles dangerously too soon after their run in with The Brotherhood. Incidentally enough, he was laying low on high alert for so long… but nothing came of it.

Maybe they’d been arrested, maybe they’d gotten justice, or maybe they just moved on to terrorize another city. He’d always assumed it was the latter.

Rebuilding his father’s autoshop was painful, no matter how deep he tried to shove those feelings down.

Colt’s vision for his father’s crumbling empire wasn’t one that came into focus for him for years.

Five years after The Brotherhood incident, all he had to show for it was a struggling auto shop with a few criminal employees who barely knew how to hotwire a car.

It seemed like there were no hills in sight, only cavernous valleys.

Five years after The Brotherhood incident, the death of his father, and the end of the Mercy Park Crew, she came into focus.

Raquel stepped into the garage, heels clacking against the dirty concrete, her gait determined.

He watched her from his tiny office, peering through the blinds as she glided confidently across the auto shop and up to his door.

She rapped her knuckles against it a few times, a little too heavy handedly.

There’s no way she’s really here, he thought, shaking his head. No fucking way.

He debated whether or not to let her in – the last time a Kaneko opened their doors to her, they nearly ruined her life.

He twisted the knob and yanked it open anyways, an insult bubbling up his throat. After all these years, he figured he’d be relieved to see her, but the tiny sliver of relief was easily overshadowed by his knee jerk reaction of annoyance and shock.

There was a small part of him that was excited, but not enough to warrant being nice to her.

When he came face to face with her for the first time, she spoke first. “Hi, Mr. Kaneko. I’d like to apply for a bookkeeping job.”

He blinked when she shoved a thick manila folder in his hands. “I think my qualifications speak for themselves.”

He thumbs the edges of the papers, flipping through her resume and the thick Master’s thesis. She’s too fucking smart to be back here.

Before anyone in the shop could see, he tugged her arm till she was inside, all but slamming the door behind her.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

She ripped her arm from his grasp, brows furrowed. “I’m here to work.”

“Don’t you get how dangerous it is for you to be here or are you just stupid?” He all but spat, slapping the folder onto his desk.

“If I’m stupid that makes you just as much of an idiot as me,” she countered, crossing her arms firmly. “I know the risks.”

“You can’t be dumb enough to think I’d take that risk, though,” he rolled his eyes, plopping into the chair at his desk.

She laughed – actually laughed – at him, covering her mouth. “Forgive me for that.”

He cocked a brow at her, waiting for her to continue.

“I went to school with pretentious male academics for five years, Colt. Whatever you’re gonna say to me has already been said, and it won’t hurt my feelings.”

He leans forward, flipping to her resume, tearing it off the top. “Let’s see, here. Langston college, yeah, I remember that. Graduated with honors? Predictable to do that three times in a row, don’t you think?”

She laughed again. “That’s a new one. I’ll have to log that under my favorite insults.”

“Well, I have loads. You’re giving me lots of material, Miss Olvera,” he mocked her, going back to skimming her resume.

Truthfully, he was trying to scare her away by being mean, and it wasn’t working. He didn’t want to dig too deep, though, because he wasn’t that evil.

He liked the girl – hell, if he didn’t like her, would he be bending over backwards to make her hate him purely for her safety?

“I can’t pay you well. I’m still rebuilding, and we’re barely breaking even. We’ve been sticking to straight work till I can manage to rebuild our reputation and relationships with buyers.”

She nodded. “I completely understand, and I don’t mind.”

“What, are you gonna ask me for a place to stay next?” He grumbled, rolling his eyes.

He was lying if he didn’t feel a little something stir in his stomach at the possibility of her staying in his apartment above the shop.

“No, I’m alright.”

“You came back to L.A. and you immediately have a place to stay? You’re lying.”

Her lips pressed into a firm line, she shook her head. “I’m back at my dad’s house.”

“What? There’s no fucking way I’m letting you work here if you’re living with a cop –”

“He passed away last year,” she chewed her lip, trying to keep her face neutral. “He had a heart attack in the middle of the night. Couldn’t get to the phone in time.

“Thankfully, he had a will set in place soon after mom died,” she shrugged. “I got the house, so I’m good.”

His fists clenched at his side. He’d already taken it too far without even meaning to.

“Sorry to hear that.”

She scoffed, a single forced laugh bursting from her lips. “You don’t have to respect him in front of me to save face or whatever. Your feelings about my dad don’t affect me.”

He nodded once, and the room descended into silence. He took the time to actually read her resume that time around, finding himself genuinely impressed with what she’d accomplished.

What he wanted to ask was “Why the fuck did you come back here?” but instead, what came out was, “You’re sure you can handle this?”

“I’m sure.”

She said those words with such conviction that he never had to ask again.

Raquel cuddled up to him, her breathing evening out. He hadn’t realized they’d gone that long without speaking.

He didn’t mind it though. He didn’t care as long as she was with him.

She stirred in her sleep, nearly rolling off of him, so he took that as his cue to tuck her in.

When she was settled under the covers, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and stepped out onto the deck.

The beach house they’d rented was a hundred feet from the shore, the waves grating against the sand creating the perfect white noise.

Perfect for sleeping, he mused, thinking about how quickly Raquel fell asleep in his arms, watching the water crash and retreat, push and pull over and over.

That same back and forth was what eventually brought him and Raquel together. They butted heads constantly, but had the same view on lots of decisions. They’d finish each other’s sentences and the crew would give each other knowing looks that he ignored.

A year in, she finally broke down. Not purposefully, and certainly not with the intent of him finding her curled into a sobbing mess outside of the garage.

“Hey what the hell, Raquel? It’s dangerous out here,” he called as he jogged up to her crumpled form.

He didn’t notice she was crying until he’d crouched down to check the injuries he thought she’d have.

She shielded her face with one hand and used the other to wave him away. “Just go.”

“I’m not leaving until you’re safe.”

It wasn’t even meant to be romantic. He’d do it for the rest of his crew since they’d grown so close.

There wasn’t a possibility of anything happening between them, or so he thought at the time. And what she admitted to him that night sealed their fate for years.

He’d managed to help her inside to his office, pulling back his worn office chair for her to collapse into.

A short “You okay?” Was all he could manage. He was new to this wellness check stuff and it didn’t come naturally to him.

But he knew as a leader, he had to do a lot more than just telling people what to do. Even if they split without a word in a week’s time, they were still a working machine that needed a little elbow grease every once in a while.

Even in the dim lamp light he could tell her eyes were red rimmed.

“I don’t think you want to hear my explanation as to why I’m not,” she laughed humorlessly, using the sleeve of her shirt to scrub the streak of makeup under her eye.

“I’m not good at this comforting shit, but I’ve got ears and I’ve gotten pretty good at using them,” he joked, sliding into the rickety folding chair in front of the desk.

She shrugged, flinging her hands up. “You’re gonna make fun of me –”

“– I won’t –”

“– You will, Colt. I know you and you’re gonna scoff the minute I take a breath.”

He couldn’t hold back the small smile at that.

“Well, yeah, but you don’t have to take it to heart.”

She sniffled, laughing. “You’re hard to ignore.”

“So are you, hard ass. Tell me what’s wrong.”

The sigh that came from her was labored, struggled, like she was about to drop heavy weights onto the floor of the office.

“Today’s the one year anniversary since I started working for you.”

He cocked a brow. “That’s it?”

“If you’d just let me explain then you’d know,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re already sucking at being a good listener.”

He held his hands up in surrender, leaning back into his chair. “Sorry.”

“My whole game plan was to figure out how to make myself useful. It’s why I got my Masters in accounting in the first place. I wanted to have my solid place in the crew, you know? Like I earned my spot.”

He nodded, waiting for her to continue.

“I just had this stupid fairytale idea in my head about coming back to L.A. and none of that’s come true.”

“Well, what was it? Anything I can do?” He asked.

Raquel sank her teeth into her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. She shook her head in response, taking a few deep breaths till she could finish.

“I wanted our old crew back. I… thought Logan would be back here by now, or looking for me at the very least,” she rubbed her temples, closing her eyes. “I waited five years to come back here and I’ve barely lasted one year in L.A. without him.”

He couldn’t help but flex his hand in and out of a fist a couple times as she spoke.

Yeah, it was true he didn’t care for Logan that much, but she liked him. Loved him, even.

If she was this dedicated to him six years later and he still hadn’t tried finding her, he didn’t deserve her.

“So it’s about Logan?” He asked with zero judgement, and she could tell.

She nodded, sniffling again. “Maybe I’ve just deluded myself into thinking we meant more to each other, but I’m still in love with him and I don’t know when that’s going to end for me.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he did what he thought was best.

He stood up, taking a couple steps till he was close enough to lay his palm on her shoulder, rubbing his thumb gently across the fabric.

She laid her hand on his thumb, holding it in place, as the sobs shook her body.

After that, he tried his hardest to keep her from crying. Which entailed leaving Logan’s name out of things.

Colt abandoned his shirt and shoes at the back door and hopped off the deck, landing softly on the sand. He took his time walking towards the water, gaze transfixed on the moon, which was at its peak in the sky.

He always thought the fact that the sea and moon were interlinked was kind of peculiar. The moon, thousands and thousands and thousands of miles away, had just enough power to pull the waves in the right direction.

He thought of Raquel like his moon far too often. The minute he was in her gravitational pull, he found himself wanting to follow her – to let her take the reins – and that was rare.

The first time he knew it was the beginning of the end with her was when a job went south.

Three years after she broke down about wanting the old crew back, they got a taste of the old violence.

One of their crew members, Isaac, had said for weeks that he had a weird gut feeling about that job in particular. Colt waved him off, reminding him that he’d value proof over superstition anyday.

In short, they were ambushed – nothing out of the ordinary in terms of their day to day risk.

What Colt wasn’t expecting, however, was for Raquel to be the one who got hurt.

They were cornered by the masked group, and before their crewmember Aly could grab her gun and shoot, one of them fired, the cracking sound of the gunshot echoing off the concrete flooring of the rundown parking garage.

Raquel’s pained groan followed immediately after.

Colt’s heart stopped when he saw the fabric of her jeans turning a deep deep maroon, the blood spreading faster than he could process what’d happened.

Her eyes fluttered and she stumbled to her knees, crying out as she knelt, bending her legs, one of which had been freshly torn through with a bullet.

“Don’t let them get away –” he shouted, flinging his arm in the direction of the fleeing criminals. He knelt down to scoop Raquel’s crumpled form into his arms. “Isaac, stay here.”

Isaac froze, nodding. “Anything you need, boss.”

“Drop me off at the shop so I can patch her up. I have to stop the bleeding.”

Colt’s voice was calm and even, but inside he was at his breaking point. He sat in the backseat of the car with Raquel strewn across his lap, the color draining from her face with each passing minute.

His palm was firmly pressed against her calf to halt the bleeding. He was thankful that the adrenaline was numbing the pain till they could make it to the shop.

She’d wince every time he adjusted his slippery grip, instinctively turning her head into the crook of his neck. That didn’t cross his mind till much later.

When she attempted talking once or twice, he furiously shushed her each time. “Save your energy. You’ll need it.”

When Isaac skidded to a stop in the garage, Colt tossed his keys Isaac’s way. “Take my car and get out of the city for a few days. Lay low. I’ll clean this one up and it’ll be good as new when you come back.”

Isaac nodded, brows furrowed. “I should’ve… I knew it was gonna go south but I should’ve tried to convince you again –”

Colt held up a hand. “You were right, and I should’ve trusted your gut instinct, and I will from now on. This is solely on me. Don’t blame yourself.”

He nodded, hopping out of the car, sliding into Colt’s convertible, and disappearing into the night.

He’d managed to get Raquel into the apartment and onto the worn leather couch in the office – she was pale and clammy, flitting in and out of being fully aware of what was going on.

“Colt… I can clean up my leg, just… just give me a second to catch my breath,” she said, her eyes drooping closed.

“Absolutely not. Give me a second. I’m trying to find the goddamn gauze but I don’t see it anywhere –”

He was glad his back was turned, because he was shaking in terror and rage in a way he hadn’t in a long time.

The first aid kit clattered out of his hands and onto the desk, and he cursed, gripping the side of the desk till his knuckles were bright white and screaming at him to let go.

“Colt…” she whispered. “I’ll be fine. I’m just hurting.”

He dragged a chair to her side, propping her ankle up against his knee before getting to work cutting a thin line up the outer seam of her jeans. The blood trickled onto his own leg, saturating the denim of his pant leg immediately.

“Are you gonna ignore me the whole time you work on my leg?” She joked, wincing. “Fuck –”

The scissors were close to the wound, and he tried his best to stretch it away from it before cutting further.

“Sorry,” he murmured, grabbing two rags and dousing it in hydrogen peroxide. He rolled up the second one, handing it to Raquel.

She sighed shakily before stuffing it into her mouth, digging her fingers into the cracked leather of the couch.

She nodded once, giving him the sign to get it over with.

The second the damp rag touched her bloodied skin, she panted through her nose, eyes screwed shut.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” He grunted, grimacing as her thigh bucked against his hand, despite him trying to hold her in place.

When he touched the wound, she screamed, devolving into choked, muffled sobs.

He’d made a vow to make sure she never cried over Logan again, and instead he’d broken his promise by putting her in direct danger over and over and over again.

There was no reason for her to accompany them on jobs – she knew the risk, and didn’t care, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t stop her from coming.

No matter how hard he tried, he was always the reason she was getting hurt.

“This is all my fault,” he said, when he’d finished cleaning her wound. “I should’ve never let you come along to our trades.”

She scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, a couple stray tears still glistening across her temples. “I wanted to be a part of this. Like you said to Isaac, you can’t blame yourself for this.”

“I don’t care what you say, alright? It was my fucking fault and you should’ve never been a part of this life.”

“Colt.”

He glanced up, barely able to meet her gaze.

“Whether you want to admit it or not, I’ve been a part of this life for nearly ten years now. I’m almost thirty. You’re closer to thirty than me. I know what I’ve gotten myself into, and I’m sticking by you regardless of the risk on my life.”

She slipped a clammy hand over his, which still held her thigh firmly in place. “If I lose my life on a job, I don’t regret it at all. I’d never regret meeting you.”

She took a labored breath, laying back against the armrest. “That took a lot out of me.”

Colt shook his head. “Stop talking. You need your energy.”

Raquel rolled her eyes. “I try being nice to you and you ignore it every time.”

“I just don’t know what the fuck to say to that. What the fuck am I supposed to say to that, huh?” He asked incredulously.

She blinked, her eyes narrowing. “I just got fucking shot, and you’re cursing at me while asking me to be your therapist? Am I hearing that right?”

He picked up his bloodied hands from her leg and threw them up in the air. “I have a lot going on in my head right now, and I’m not trying to fight you or get you to be my fuckin’ therapist, alright? I’m just confused.” He was barely below a shout, his chest heaving when he was done.

“I can’t read your mind, Colt. I’m kind of delirious with blood loss right now, so the least you can do is not yell at me and ask me politely to slate this conversation for later,” she said firmly, wincing while she shifted on the couch.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he panted, shrugging his stained black thermal off. He tossed it to the side, revealing his equally as bloodied white tee.

He slipped that shirt off, too, tearing the shirt into long strips.

Raquel watched him, her brown eyed gaze one of both confusion and something more he couldn’t place and didn’t care to think about.

Wordlessly, he plopped back down, tying the shredded strips above the wound on her calf, fingertips grazing her skin as delicately as he could manage.

He let his hands linger for a bit too long, staring at the open wound on her leg.

Daring a look her way, Colt caught her watching him with a soft gaze, one that he hadn’t earned.

“You’re not mad at me for being there tonight… you’re mad at yourself for not protecting me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded once.

“You’re hoping that this makes me want to leave, because you won’t ask me yourself. You don’t want me to leave.”

He nodded again, glancing away from her.

After a long silence and avoidance of turning her way, she spoke first.

“You’re worried I don’t feel the same.”

He froze, dropping his hands from her leg. She was right, but if he admitted to it and she still didn’t feel the same, then what was he risking all this shit for?

Why was he still clinging onto the hope that she’d feel the same if nine years of pining was seconds away from being thrown out the window?

Mustering up his remaining courage, he nodded one last time.

And when he looked at her that time, she was beaming. Through the excruciating pain, she was smiling.

He broke first, scooting to the edge of his chair to get as close as he could. “What?”

“It’s funny that you were worried we weren’t on the same page. I think we might’ve been for a long time,” she laughed, hoarse and weak, but it was still her laugh that he loved so much.

“What do you mean?”

And then she said the words that he’d desperately needed to hear for nearly a decade.

“I came for Logan but I stayed for you.”

Once Raquel admitted that to him, he was all in. Completely committed, never faltering.

Their first kiss was anything but, the sensation one of nine years of pent up feelings from Colt’s end, and years of her own. Their first kiss was more of a sealant of their future (and their fate).

Their first kiss was everything Colt had dreamed of.

He kissed her like she was air and he was drowning and she was filling his lungs to the brim, her warmth spreading from his insides out.

She didn’t pull away after the first one, and neither did he.

For who knew how long, he was on his knees next to the bloodied couch, cupping her face with his palms, and kissing her like he had a decade of missed opportunities to make up for.

After that, they were inseparable.

And he never doubted her devotion to him again.

They fell into a routine of working at the shop together during the day and into the late hours of the night after everyone had left, before stumbling upstairs into Colt’s apartment, lips locked, hands roaming.

And she drove him to every job from then on, easily evading cops and maneuvering the underbelly of L.A. like it was second nature.

Colt waded into the warm water, barely feeling it as it lapped at his ankles, calves, thighs.

When he was waist deep, he opted to float on his back, using the opportunity to revel in the star littered sky. One he didn’t get to see too often in the heavily light polluted sky of Los Angeles. Was this really the same sky he’d lived under all these years?

He didn’t really plan on marrying Raquel.

It was never in the sleazy way where he was going to leave her the second he got what he wanted – he was content being with her. Living with her. Kissing her. Loving her.

But he didn’t think he needed to go through the motions because that’s supposedly what people in love did. He figured it was enough to spend his life with her without doing all the extra shit.

She brought it up first, nearly four years later.

At that point, he moved into her father’s house with her – they’d crash in Colt’s old apartment above the shop if they were too tired to drive home.

They were curled up on the old futon in his room, huddling under the blankets, and she was curled against his side, drawing circles through his short tuft of chest hair.

“We should get married.”

“Hmm?” He asked, in a haze, nearly drifting off to sleep before she’d spoken.

“You heard me.”

“You really wanna?”

“Well, yeah. I’ve always wanted to get married, even when I was a little girl.”

He kissed the top of her head, squeezing her closer.

“You’ve always been a daydreamer then,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, I used to dig up my old Easter dresses and strut into the living room asking my Dad to walk me down the aisle.”

“And did he?”

She laughed, lifting her head to get a good look at him. “Yep. Walked me right down the hallway and back to my room to change me out of my clothes.”

Her face fell a bit despite the fond memory. “I think I care more about it now because I know my parents won’t be there. It feels like if I don’t get married, I’m breaking a promise, as dumb as that sounds.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t sound dumb at all, sweetheart. I don’t care what we do as long as it makes you happy.”

She smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss on his lips. “I love you.”

Wrapping her up in a hug, he kisses her back with fervor, echoing her sentiment in the form of mumbling against her lips. I love you.

Roughly a year later, they opted for a quick courthouse wedding and a honeymoon that consisted of staying in bed all day and ordering food to build back the calories they’d burned.

Around that time, Raquel reconnected with some of her only living relatives on her Dad’s side. She’d gotten close to a few of her distant cousins, and they convinced her to have a small ceremony for their family in Belize.

And fifteen years after he’d met Raquel, on the cusp of spring and summer, he married her again in front of an intimate crowd and kissed her like it was their first time.

He’d complained about having to ass kiss her judgemental old relatives, but he didn’t really mind. Seeing her in a white dress, beaming like it was the best day of her life, was enough to make any issue nothing but a minor annoyance.

“Hey!”

Colt swirled his arms in the water till he was upright again, grinning when he noticed the bright red lines on her face – she’d clearly just woken up.

“Hey, sweetheart. You sleep okay?”

“Come back to bed,” she asked, pointing at the back door of their beach house.

He tipped his chin at her. “You come out here.”

She rolled her eyes, before tearing off her nightgown, running towards the water at full speed, no hesitation.

He caught her in his arms, letting her wrap her legs comfortably around his waist while he waded out to deeper waters.

“Ugh. I was having a good dream, too, until I realized the bed was empty,” she grumbled, looping her arms tighter around his neck.

“Sorry about that. I promise next time I’ll wake you up before I head out.”

She nodded, content with his answer.

They were both chest deep in the water, faces close, the soft rays from the moon the only light they had.

“Why’d you bring me out here, Colt?” She murmured, eyes flitting to his lips, which were upturned in a soft smile.

“I was just thinking. This spring makes fifteen years since I met you.”

She hugged him, pressing a kiss on his cheek. “And only, like, six years since we came to our senses.”

He laughed heartily, squeezing her tighter around the waist. “You’re right.”

“Remember when we jumped off the cliff together?” He asked.

“Yeah, of course. It was the first time I ever felt a spark with you,” she grinned. “Took a long time for it to turn into a flame, though.”

“That was the first time I knew I loved you,” he admitted. “I wanted to kiss you so badly and I kicked myself in the ass for years for not trying –”

She cut him off with a passionate kiss, her tongue slipping into his mouth almost as soon as his mouth moved in tandem with hers. It was the sloppy, unplanned kiss he’d envisioned for that day.

“I think everything worked out for the better. I’m not sure we were ready for each other back then,” she said honestly, her forehead pressed against his.

“We needed to grow a little bit before falling in love, huh? You’re so smart,” he said, voice low, pressing another kiss to her lips.

“Yeah, and now we’ve got the rest of our lives.”

She was right (like she always was), and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge in his chest like he’d felt many times before.

He’d waited that damn long for her, so he was going to savor the rest of their life together as much as he could.

#playchoices #choices rod #rodaw #rodtimecapsule #colt kaneko #colt kaneko x mc #jade writes choices fics #cw: injury #cw: guns #cw: blood #tw wounds #tw injury

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newtonsheffield · 3 years ago

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I know you have a personal life and work and other things going on... But you can't just offer us a glimpse of Lucy and Gregory being angsty and sad and then just stop and not tell us what happens next. Will you maybe write a fic about the evolution of their relationship? I love Lucyyyy.. she is amazing

It's very nice of you to assume I have a personal life. But I sadly don't 😂

Okay so you may have seen that I do have a full length Lucy and Gregory fic! It's called Unexpected and it's on Ao3 !

And they do make up, and they become very very sweet together once Gregory realises he's actually in love with Lucy. Unfortunately for Lucy Abernathy whom I love and adore like she were my own child, She realised she was in love with Gregory ten months before he realised he was in love with her. And that led to a lot of heart break for her.

This is a scene I've wanted to write from Lucy's POV for a really long time, but no one's ever asked and you still haven't but I'm using this moment to grandstand!

I would recommend that you read Unexpected prior to reading this little scene!

As odd as it seemed, Lucy had never been to Kate and Anthony's house before, she'd never had a reason too so she'd been a little surprised when Kate had been making plans for Anthony's birthday party, turned and dropped an invitation on her desk. And really, she shouldn't have been surprised, most of the office was invited, and Lucy had long since considered Kate more a friend than her boss. So she'd gone, she'd gotten dressed and told herself that wanting to spend time with Gregory had absolutely nothing to do with wanting to go.

It had been a little awkward and stilted since last month when she'd cried all the way home and then a little more, barely having gone to sleep when she was woken by Kate's call, her stomach churning as she thought about Gregory, his fist connecting with a man. And she'd swallowed all of her pride, picked up her phone and said Rick, I'm not here to talk about Hermione. I need a favour and she'd done it for Gregory. Even though she knew that her brother and Uncle would expect more of her now, would eventually expect something in return, She'd done it.

"Lucy you came!" Kate said brightly, when she arrived, Anthony's arms wrapped tightly around her waist as they leaned against the wall together, Kate's sister looking impossibly beautiful as she had every time Lucy had seen her. And Lucy's heart ached with the domesticity of it, because maybe, if she'd been just a little different, it could have been her and Gregory. But it wasn't and that was fine. "Of Course I did, some of us don't have an assistant to get us out of our social obligations, you know Kate." She smirked. Edwina gasped dramatically. "I knew all those times Lucy called and told me you were running late it was a lie!" She swatted at Kate who looked scandalised. Lucy couldn't help the laughter that escaped her as Edwina and Kate bickered backwards and forwards and then a familiar voice was low in her ear.

“Lucy, can I talk to you?” Lucy spun towards the sound a little startled by his sudden appearance. And when she saw him like this, his t-shirt printed with what appeared to be The Infinity gauntlet, her hair tousled, his eyes shining at her behind his glasses, it was difficult to deny the real reason she'd come tonight. Just to see him like this for a moment, even from a distance.

“My my Gregory, your mother would be so appalled to see you slighting the hostess in such a way.” Kate teased and Lucy watched as Gregory spun towards her as though he hadn't even noticed. Lucy could see Edwina trying to catch her eye mouthing You and Gregory? Fucking Cute. Lucy ignored the flutter in her stomach.

“Oh. Sorry. Didn’t see you there. Happy birthday Ant!” Anthony rolled his eyes and muttered his thanks. And Lucy couldn't stop staring at him, curiously. Clearly he hadn't been here already. He'd arrived and sought her out? That didn't seem right. The butterflied always seemed to ignite in her stomach beat their wings furiously.

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Kate quipped, sending Edwina a wide eyed look.

“Lucy, Can I talk to you?” He said more firmly, ignoring his (almost) sister in law. Lucy felt her eyes widen at his insistence, nodding before she could think of a reason not to be alone with him. To give him a reason not to unknowingly break her heart for the hundredth tie. Gregory caught her hand and tugged her to the quieter upstairs floor. The music muffled as he led her into a spare bedroom and stupidly Lucy could feel her heart start to race. She cleared her throat.

“What’s this about, Greg?” She asked to create some distance between reality and her imagination, unable to look at him, even as she used the nickname he'd told her the first time they met that his friends used. Because that's what they were. Friends.

“I don’t know where Hermione is and she and Richard are still together.” She forced the words from her chest. To remind herself what he really wanted from her.

“Hermione?” Gregory’s brow furrowed, “I don’t care about her.” He took a step towards her likely completely unaware of how her pulse was thundering in her ears. If he didn't want to talk about Hermione then what did he want to-?

“Then I don’t understand, If it’s a work thing-” She started, hearing her own confusion leak into her voice But Gregory cut her off with a final step towards her. They were chest to chest now, she could count the freckles on the bridge of his nose if she wanted, his hair dipping into his eyes unbearably handsome.

“I don’t want to talk about work right now.” His voice like gravel and then suddenly his lips were on hers, hot and unrelenting. She was still with shock for a split second before she felt herself relax into him, her hand reaching for his hair to pull him closer to her, his own hands tugging at her waist pressing their bodies together as his tongue moved against hers in a way that had her knees a little weak. And somehow, in all the times she'd imagined what it might be like to kiss him, even when she had had that (very filthy) dream about him months ago now, it had never lived up to this. He pulled back after several long moments, his breath laboured as he stared down at her, her heart fluttering with the idea that he'd finally realised that she'd been standing right there in front of hi for years now, practically begging him to love her.

“God, Lucy. I’m half in love with you, sometimes.” He whispered softly, smiling at her. And Lucy felt her heart break all over again. Because he hasn't realised anything at all. He was confused, and hurt by her friend, and she was just there. And while she desperately wanted to not care, to let herself go home with him, or fall back against the mattress in her bosses spare room and have him just for a moment, she had to be stronger than that.

Lucy felt the smile she'd had drop off her face as she stepped back from him, turning her head so he wouldn't.see the tears in her eyes

“Lucy?” He questioned lightly, confused and though she refused to look at him she knew exactly how he'd look. His brow furrowed adorably, like a lost puppy.

“Don’t Greg, please don’t make this any harder.” Her voice shook shamefully, her head still turned away from him as she stepped around him towards the door.

“I don’t under-“ He started, his voice still dripping with confusion, the barest edge of hurt creeping in.

“You’re in love with Hermione, you’re in love with me. Do you even know what you want, Greg?” She barely recognised her own voice as she opened the door, light flooding in from the hallway, Gregory illuminated for a moment, the look on his face making her heart ache to go back and wrap her arms tightly around him again, to let him have her, whatever he wanted. But she had to start loving herself as much as she loved him.

“You can’t be half in love with someone Greg, certainly not with me.” She snapped the door shut on him, her feet racing down the staircase. Her shoulders shaking with sobs as she burst out of Kate's front door, her legs numb refusing to carry her any further as she fell in a heap against Kate's garden wall.

"You're so fucking stupid, Lucy." She heard herself say a voice like her Uncle's echoing in her head You begged him to want you and he still didn't. Shame welling in her chest, "Lucy?" She heard Kate's voice say softly, felt her sit beside her as Lucy swiped at her tears furiously as though it would stop her losing the respect of someone else tonight.

And though the very last thing she wanted was to cry to Kate Sheffield about what a mess she was, she did it anyway. And when Kate gently told her that if Gregory didn't want her, he was the one missing out, She'd wished she could believe it. Because Gregory Bridgerton deserved much better than the girl that fell to pieces in his brother's garden.

#Do I just love to watch lucy suffer or what?#That got a little sadder than even I thought it would #my b #someone request some happy lucy please #she deserves it #bridgerton and sons au #lucy x gregory #gregcy #lucy abernathy #gregory bridgerton #unexpected: a bridgerton and sons fic #molly's asks and answers

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briefinquiries · 4 years ago

Text

Luke Alvez x Reader: Wedding Day

Prompt: You and Luke’s wedding day.

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau , @alvezstan , @lcvischmitt , @ogmilkis , @goldenalvez , @ssa-morgan , @garcias-batcave , @akimagies, @zhangyixingxing1 , @pinkdiamond1016 , @yourwonderbelle , @rachelxwayne , @sc4rletw1tch , @moreidultrastan , @ellvswriting

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none

A/N: this made me SOFT wow, here’s some fluff no one asked for. i also had body parts by yoke lore playing on repeat while i wrote this to make me extra soft, so if u need a soundtrack to this imagine- that’s it!!!

“You did it up all wrong,” Rossi sighs with a little chuckle, gesturing at Luke’s tie from a spot behind him in the mirror. “Look Matt, he did it backwards. He’s nervous.”

“It’s hard in the mirror. Just tie it for me then,” says Luke, rolling his eyes as Rossi bats his hands away and begins to loop his tie properly.

Behind them, Matt paces dramatically with a notecard in his hand. “You’re not allowed to be nervous,” he says, motioning towards Luke. “I’m nervous enough for the both of us! To be, or not to be,” he continues, outstretching his arm theatrically, and placing it on his forehead for effect, “that was the question that Luke Alvez asked Y/F/N on one fateful night almost a year ago. My name is Matt Simmons, and I’ll be your tour guide through this emotional rollercoaster–”

“Emotional rollercoaster?” Rossi asks.

“We’ll laugh, we’ll hope, we’ll cry.”

“Um,” says Luke, eyeing Matt warily in the mirror as Rossi laughs helplessly, “I’d like to say I know you’re just messing around… but you’re just messing around, right?”

Matt opens his eyes wide, looking appalled. “Absolutely not! You made a choice, the right choice I might add, asking me to make the big speech. It’s my moment, Luke. Everyone will be talking about it for years.”

Rossi laughs even harder, patting Luke on the chest once his tie is done right, “There you go. Like a real gentleman. Don’t worry about Matt,” Rossi adds in a whisper. “I’ll keep him in line, I always do. ”

Matt throws them both a dark look, one hand over his heart, before continuing, “Now what… What is real love? Come with me now on a journey and I’ll tell you. Together, we’ll delve into the love story between two young heart throbs. Charming, sometimes incredibly tragic, but always pure and true. Our tale begins on the eighteenth of November one cool brisk evening. Luke Alvez was an autumn baby emerging from his mother–“

“You’ve only got like three minutes to talk,” Luke tells him, just in case he was unaware of the time limit on his speech. Just then, Spencer pops his head in.

“Practicing our speeches?” He looks at Luke and raises his eyebrows with an assuring thumbs up. “Looking good.”

“You’re just in time,” Matt says, pointing at Spencer, “I was thinking you could act out my speech, like performance art.”

“No plays at my wedding!” Luke says, but he’s laughing too.

Just saying the word ‘wedding’ aloud makes Luke’s heart leap a little. He starts thinking of how you probably look right now. You had fussed around nervously all morning, organizing and re-organizing things around the house, cleaning things that were already clean. The same way you always were when you got anxious. Luke finally hugged you from behind and said, firmly, “Stop.”

You had rolled your eyes but allowed Luke to tug you down onto the couch, wrapping his arms around you in a bear hug. “It’s going to be perfect,” He had said.

Luke then stands up from the chair, smoothing his hair.

“C’mon Rossi,” says Spencer, still lingering at the door, “Your wife sent me in here to get you, she wants to get some pictures beforehand.”

“Duty calls,” Rossi says, smiling lightly at Matt and Luke before following Spencer out the door.

Once they’re gone, Matt grins at Luke.

“You ready for this?” he asks. Luke gives a little shrug. After month building up to this day, it almost feels like a dream – the hum of people collecting in the church, his shiny new shoes, the look in your eyes earlier when you’d said in awe, “Next time I see you, I’ll marry you,” which Luke can’t stop replaying in his mind.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Any last words of advice?”

“Yes,” Matt says seriously. “Four, actually.” Matt says the words slowly and clearly, “Don’t – mess – it – up.”

“Like don’t stutter when I’m reading my vows? Or like, don’t be a horrible husband and drive Y/N away?”

“Both,” says Matt, his face breaking out into a grin. “See? That’s why I’m so helpful.”

“Ah,” says Luke, smiling. “I see. You’re the master. Thanks, Matt.” He meets his eyes, which are soft and fond.

“You deserve it, brother,” he says. “All of this. I’m so happy for you.”

“Aw,” Luke teases, trying to conceal the lump in his throat, “are you going to cry?”

“I might,” says Matt. “Your bride certainly will. She was already looking a bit teary when I left her earlier. We’ve actually all taken bets on how long it’ll take her to start bawling.”

“What?” Luke exclaims indignantly. “Nobody told me that! Come on, I want in.”

“Sorry, but Kristy said it’s not nice to bet on your own wife’s wedding day tears.”

“But I’d have the best chance at winning!”

“Nope, not allowed,” says Matt. “Although I’ll tell you my guess – she won’t last thirty seconds after she sees you. And it will continue for the rest of the evening.”

“That’s – that’s probably true,” Luke admits. “What did everyone else guess?”

“Tara said she’d cry during vows,” says Matt, ticking them off as he counted on his finger. “Garcia bet same as me, when she sees you, and Emily thinks she’s already crying.”

“I think I’m with Emily on that one,” says Luke with a little laugh.

Just then JJ pokes her head into the tent, hair piled elegantly on top of her head, gesturing at him. Matt gives her a charming smile, which she returns.

“Luke, are you almost ready? Everyone’s waiting!”

Luke nods as JJ sighs and crosses the floor to hug him, straightening his tie.

“You look great,” she whispers.

“Thanks,” Luke says, swallowing another lump that rises in his throat. “Alright, let’s get moving. I can’t be late to my own wedding.”

…

As it turns out, they all lose the bet – you hold it together fairly well, misty-eyed and fond, through most of the ceremony. It’s Luke who gets teary eyed the moment he sees you turn the corner and start walking down the alter. Your arm’s latched with Rossi’s and the minute your eyes meet his, the lump in his throat is back, only this time with some tears as well.

You’re beautiful, in the most elegant and true way. Your hair is pulled back, complimented by a veil. Your face breaks out into a huge smile of triumph when you see Luke. You clutch tightly onto the assortment of flowers in your hand and make your way closer and closer.

Luke lets out a shaky laugh, trying to cover up how emotional he really is. After a few moments of just staring, in complete and utter awe, he has to wipe his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket.

You reach the front of the aisle, kissing Rossi on the cheek one last time before stepping up to the alter.

Luke can’t help himself. He’s smiling so wide, his insides bursting with love and affection and disbelief. He was so lucky. So so lucky.

The ceremony’s a blur. Luke’s head is spinning and it all goes so fast. Before he knows it, he’s saying his vows, the words falling off his tongue from memory, but they’d really been in his heart the entire time anyway. He’s clutching onto your hand so tight.

The phrase “you may now kiss the bride” is barely audible before Luke’s mouth is on yours, pressing you both together as close as he can.

It’s after your first kiss that your fingers clutch tightly into Luke’s waist and you’re crying when you pull back, smiling so hard your eyes are nearly closed. Luke pulls you closer, holding onto you for dear life, his heart is so full he thinks it might explode.

“We did it,” you breathe into his neck, a secret whisper just for Luke, even as everyone’s cheering and applauding from all sides. It’s almost too much. He sways against you, arms locked tight around you back.

“I knew we would,” he murmurs, kissing you on the cheek.

Matt’s speech isn’t as bad as he’d promised – in fact, it’s incredibly touching. You, predictably, sniffle and giggle your way through the entire thing, much like the rest of the crowd.

The day passes in a blur of relatives and champagne, Luke and you slow dancing, Matt and Kristy cozying up together. Rossi wrapping Luke in a bear hug and muttering “I love you, kid,” with tears in his eyes.

Luke’s mom, who cried even more than you, pulls you close and whispers, “I’d say welcome to the family, but you always have been.” You hug her with tears prickling in your own eyes, at a loss for words.

It’s frantic, fast-paced and fun, a sensory overload. Luke barely gets time to eat a slice of his own wedding cake. He’s not sure what he’s going to remember about the day, but he knows that it’ll be good. Maybe something with your hand on his back, or the feeling of your cheek pressed to his while you dance, just swaying together under the soft lights.

“Will you kiss me?” you ask Luke towards the end of the night, when you’re almost the last two left dancing. Luke smiles down at you, cupping your face, eyes incredibly fond.

“Always.”

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imagine-that · 4 years ago

Text

Hiccup! Hiccup!

Warnings: lots and LOTS of fluff. Like, your teeth with probably be rotten by the end.

Pairing: Nathaniel (Nate) Archibald x reader

AN: this is just something I came up with earlier today and finished pretty quickly, I’m actually super happy with how it turned out? That’s a surprise to me lol. Hope you guys like it as much as I (think) I do 🤗.

You swiftly move around the crowd of Manhattans elite who are in the middle of some sort of gossip and walk to the table holding refreshments.

With a small sigh of stress, you grab a glass of water, chugging it back until the glass is empty.

Nate Archibald was smitten with you. Absolutely positively smitten. The two of you had been on a few dates after school hours and on weekends and holidays and suddenly you were absolutely inseparable. But this party was the first time you were meeting any of his friends from the Upper East Side other than Serena, who was always incredibly kind to you.

When Nate invited you to join him, you’d been absolutely ecstatic at first. But when you’d met all of his friends, the most they did was look you over up and down and had their noses turned up in disgust as they surveyed your outfit.

The girls had whispered, boys had snickered and the adults were all far too busy with their own problems to notice or care how their children were acting.

Even Nates own mother had absolutely no interest in meeting you, the person her son was clearly falling quickly in love with, after hearing all everyone seemed to have to say about you or where you’d come from.

It all felt like way too much at once for your laidback taste.

Once you’d excused yourself, you’d overheard Nate scolding them in a hiss, clearly angry with how they chose to treat his date.

You felt honoured but also like a burden, like he felt he was obligated to protect you and your feelings instead of actually wanting to.

You’d hidden outside for a while but then people decided it was a perfect time for a smoke break and the air began to reek of cigarettes and god knows what else so you slipped inside just before you let out a cough at the stench.

Watching the group nervously, you guzzle down another glass of water.

“Hey! I was just looking for you.” Nate says as he joins you at the table with one of his huge grins.

You smile back, ignoring the feeling of discomfort at where you were.

“Well here I am! You found -hiccup- me.” You say, promptly interrupted by a loud and embarrassing hiccup. You feel your cheeks warm in embarrassment, smiling apologetically.

A series of more hiccups escape your lips over the next few minutes, making you quickly smack a hand over your mouth.

“I’m so sorry Nate.” You mutter between jolts, tears not only from embarrassment but also from your eyes watering everytime your body makes a sudden movement with your hiccups.

“Hey, hey look at me.” He instructs, moving in front of you so he’s directly in your line of vision.

You reluctantly do as he says, meeting his eyes with your own.

“I’m -hiccup- ruining your fun.” You sigh, frowning down at your shoes in shame.

“No you aren’t. These parties are always a bore anyways. You’re what’s making it fun y/n.” He tells you, holding your hands in his own to try and keep them steady.

“Are you -hiccup- are you sure?” You ask, searching his face for any tell of a lie or fib. He nods his head, not breaking eye contact with you.

You could feel the judgmental eyes of all the teen heiresses surrounding you narrowed on the two of you, their noses crinkling even more in disgust at every hiccup.

“It’s not gonna -hiccup- it won’t embarrass -hiccup- you?” You ask, looking at him sceptically.

“I promise it won’t.” He says with a small chuckle when you smile up at him only to be stopped by yet another hiccup.

“It’s not -hiccup- funny!” You groan, leaning into him a little.

“No no! It’s uh... it’s not-“ He says unconvincingly, notably trying hard not to crack up. “It’s adorable.” He adds, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“It’s -hiccup- annoying.” You pout, crossing your arms over your chest with a hiccup covered sigh.

“Awwww.” He teases, smiling at you.

His facial expression changes suddenly, a sign that an idea is forming.

“I’ll be right back.” He promises, walking off without another word.

Before you have the chance to follow, Serena comes walking up to you with a friendly smile, tugging a brunette along with her by the arm.

“Hey!” She squeals, pulling you in for a hug of her own. You giggle between hiccups, smiling back as best you can.

“Blair, this is y/n. She’s/he’s/they’re here with Nate. You knew that right?” She asks, looking to the girl next to her for answers.

“Yeah. Hi.” The girl mutters, reluctantly offering you a hand to shake. You take it, shaking it out of curtesy but feeling overly intimidated the entire time.

“Nice to -hiccup- meet you.” You murmur, cursing the sounds escaping your lips for the embarrassment.

She gives you one last one over, nose high in the air before walking off to join yet another group.

“I’m sorry y/n. They’re all kind of... judgmental sometimes. But you’ll fit right in! At least when those hiccups go away.” Serena sighs, giggling a little as you nod with another hiccup.

She gives you a squeeze on the shoulder in sympathy and wanders off to join the group of private school girls chattering away, leaving you to your own devices.

“I’m back.” A voice says behind you as an arm wraps around your waist.

“ -hiccup- hi.” You breath, your ribs starting to ache from the amount of bouncing around your body was doing due to the hiccups.

“Here. Swallow this.” Nate says as he moves in front of you.

He holds out a literal silver teaspoon filled with sugar.

“Nate-“ You start but are quickly interrupted by yet another one.

“You know what, gimme -hiccup- it.” You grumble, grabbing the spoon and shoving it in your mouth.

You wait a moment and just as you think it actually worked, another one bursts through your mouth.

“Damnit.” You curse under your breath.

Nate sighs, looking at you with his brows furrowed in concentration.

“Oh! Try swallowing three times fast.” He offers.

You do just that, waiting yet again and groan in annoyance as it happens again.

The course of the night is spent with Nate trying, with no success, to get rid of your hiccups. You groan and moan whenever you find out they aren’t gone, almost whining like a child by the time the party is winding down. Since it’s at his friend Blair’s penthouse, the two of you are able to stay a little longer.

“It’s no use, they’re never -hiccup- going away.” You sulk, looking up to him with shining puppy dog eyes.

“Wait. I have one more idea.” He says with a small smile grazing his lips.

Suddenly he drops the crystal glass of water in his hand, letting it shatter on the floor.

“What are you-“ You start to hiss but you’re interrupted, this time not by your hiccups.

“Was that one of my mothers crystal glasses?! Those are very expensive and vintage!” A shrill voice shrieks, moving closer to where the two of you are.

“Y/n did it!” Nate calls out. You look at him in shock, eyes wide in fear and confusion.

As the angry girl storms closer and closer towards the kitchen, Nate grabs your hand in his again, pulling you out another door you’d hardly noticed until then and towards the elevator.

“Bye Dorota.” Nate whispers to the kind but now very confused maid as you move quickly.

“But- but Mr Nate!” She calls after him, but the two of you are already in the elevator and on your way down.

“Don’t take offense to this, but your friends are terrifying.” You breath, looking at him with a small grin.

He chuckles nodding in agreement.

“What was that for though Archibald? I thought you liked me living?” You ask, raising an annoyed eyebrow at him.

“I absolutely do. But I also like you happy and hiccupless so.” He says with an innocent shrug.

“You- you were about to get me killed just to get rid of my hiccups?” You cry, blinking at him.

“Well when you put it like that...” He says with another chuckle.

You roll your eyes, grabbing him by the shoulders and kissing him hard on the lips.

“You’re an idiot. But I love you.” You say with a bit of a laugh.

“I love -hiccup- you too.” He says, laughing as the sudden jolt becomes his.

You giggle a little behind your hand, still smiling over at him as you hear the higher pitched noise come from his mouth yet again. “Oops. I forgot- hiccups are sometimes contagious.” You tease, still giggling as he goes into a hiccup fit.

“Yeah, you seem to have forgotten that.” He scoffs with a grin, letting you know he isn’t actually upset.

“Don’t worry, you’re still absolute perfection to me. Even with the weird hiccups.” You grin as he tries to scoff again, unable to due to the hiccuping.

“Gee thanks, that means so -hiccup- much.” He says sarcastically, shaking his head at your giggle fit. “They really -hiccup- are -hiccup- annoying though.” He whines, pouting dramatically at you.

“Well, that just means it’s my turn to help cure you.” You promise nonchalantly with a shrug, smiling when you see his own teeth gleaming.

“I think I can probably -hiccup- live with that.” He laughs, pulling you into his side and hugging you tightly, making you giggle and squirm everytime his body moves with another hiccup.

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oo-hazel-oo · 3 years ago

Text

The Lucky Batch

hey y’all! i’ve been working on this for a hot minute — turns out i am incapable writing anything shorter than 5,000 words, so sorry in advance for how long this got. a huge thank you to @cosmicghostie for being the ultimate writer's cheerleader and to the rest of the lucky batch for giving me such amazing characters to work with! you all genuinely brighten my day, so i hope this brightens yours! ♥︎

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lucky: a few days in the life of Clone Force 37’s unofficial therapist

content warnings: blood/injury, weapon use, lots of emotional distress (but also some fluff to make up for it!!)

Thumbs didn’t know when he had become Clone Force 37’s unofficial therapist. It just kinda happened.

His original role as the squad’s battle strategist shifted after he realized that his usual skill-set wouldn’t be helpful to a squad who typically threw strategy out the window.

Yet even without a set strategy, the unconventional group somehow had a relatively high success rate when it came to their missions. Thumbs had assumed it was their unpredictability that gave them an advantage. Or the fact that each of them had unique abilities, unlike any soldiers he had ever met.

However, the longer he was with Clone Force 37, the more he started to notice just how special his batch-mates were.

The twins, Foxy and Pepper, had caught his attention first. Both were skilled in their own ways, but what stood out to Thumbs was how each was fiercely protective of the other. He wasn’t sure what the pair had gone through to end up on the Clover, but he couldn’t help but notice the weight of Foxy’s quiet around strangers or the subtle promise behind each sticker that Pepper placed. Thumbs knew more than anyone, love was always accompanied by fear.

He saw this fear in Master Kenhla, every time she glanced towards the two padawans she had come to mentor. Despite her powerful posture, Thumbs could see how she carried the galaxy on her shoulders; not so that she could manage more, but so her brothers could bear less.

Brothers like Rane and Skip, who had lost everything, everyone, before finding their place with the Lucky Batch. Or Sparks and Ryder, both of whom blamed themselves for tragedies of the past.

They all had lost so much… Yet, by some miracle, they had found each other.

Thumbs would do anything to make sure it stayed that way.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This particular day had started normally, which for Thumbs meant wincing as three screaming forms barreled towards where he sat knitting at the back of the ship. He set his needles down, knowing he would not be getting back to work anytime soon.

“Here we go,” he mumbled under his breath as his batchmates shouted from across the hull.

“THUMBS!!!”

The small stampede, which was revealed to be Sparks, Ballast, and Luna, raced towards him, each one attempting to outpace the other.

“Oh Maker, Ballast, what did you do?”

The batcher in question skidded to a stop, mock-offense written across his face. “I didn’t-”

Thumbs gave each of his batch-mates a once-over, scanning them for injuries. “Should I get Pepper? Is anyone hurt?”

“Not yet,” the two mechanics both mumbled under their breath.

Thumbs sighed in equal parts relief and exhaustion. Ballast and Sparks had been ‘friendly’ rivals for as long as he had known the pair. Unfortunately for him, their rivalry often extended outside the realm of mechanics and into the everyday affairs of the Lucky Batch, with Thumbs usually acting as the chosen mediator of these disagreements.

Sparks pointed at Ballast, pleading his case. “He ate all the cookies Jack made me!”

“You’re overreac-”

“And drank all my caf.”

Now Thumbs understood the near-murderous look on Sparks’ face.

His brother had always done so much for the batch and asked for very few things in return, one of those things being his morning cups of caf: a simple but necessary pleasure that allowed him to function throughout the day.

Thumbs brought his attention back to the pair in front of him, wondering whose word to trust more. Then he brought his gaze down, to a much more reliable source.

“Luna, what happened?”

The padawan looked up nervously, her eyes partially hidden behind choppy bangs. Thumbs smiled when he noticed she was wearing the mittens he had knit for her. He had originally made pairs for both her and Brisk while they were stationed on a colder planet, but now Luna liked to wear them for fun, claiming they made her look like an ewok.

The young girl shrunk from the attention that was suddenly on her, moving closer to Ballast’s side.

“I…”

“What happened is he drank all my caf.” Sparks stepped forward, jabbing another accusatory finger towards Ballast. “The caf that prevents me from strangling my brothers when they get on my nerves.”

Thumbs spoke up, attempting to diffuse the rising hostility. “I thought you didn’t even like caf, Ballast. I always see you drinking that tea Jackal likes.”

The mechanic shifted on his feet nervously. “Well, I…”

Thumbs looked towards his brother curiously, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. Something about the whole dispute seemed off, almost like Ballast was covering for someb-

“Wait,” a small voice piped up from behind the three brothers. “B-Ballast didn’t take your caf, I did.”

“You-” Sparks spun towards the voice with an instinctive glower before recognizing its source. His features softened almost instantly. “What?”

Luna shrugged sheepishly. “I wanted to see if it was good… It was! And Master Ken said I was exceptionally energetic during our training afterwards.”

Thumbs fixed his gaze on Sparks expectantly, curious how he would react to the young batcher’s confession.

“I’m sorry,” she continued, wringing her mittened hands. “I know I should’ve asked.”

Sparks cleared his throat awkwardly as he waved off her apology. “No, it’s uh... It’s fine.”

Luna’s expression remained uncertain and Ballast elbowed Sparks in the side, urging him to reassure the young girl.

“Really, I mean... I shouldn’t even be drinking that much anyway,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily.

Ballast grinned at Sparks, eating up the moment.

Thumbs couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto his own face as well. For a squad of soldiers who had fought countless battles and overcome powerful enemies, they sure did surrender fast when it came to their padawans. No one onboard the Clover was immune to their effortless charm.

Luna eventually looked up at Thumbs, seeking his own approval, which he happily granted with an encouraging thumbs up.

There was a welcome moment of silence before Sparks’ head jerked upwards once more.

“Wait, what about my cookies?”

“Hmm...” Ballast looked to the floor dramatically, feigning deep thought. “You mean the chocolate chunk cookies with sea salt and a fine caramel drizzle?” He smirked before continuing. “I have no idea.”

Sparks took two threatening steps towards Ballast and within seconds the two of them were chasing each other throughout the Clover with Luna giggling in their wake.

For the clones, who quite literally were forced to grow up too fast, the padawans’ presence reminded them of what a childhood should be. It kept them grounded, desperate to preserve that feeling for the young girls for as long as they could. And if that meant that Luna could get away with stealing Spark’s caf, then so be it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That evening’s supply trip was supposed to be easy. A quick in and out operation to gather necessary materials for the coming weeks. But it had already been three hours since Ballast, Sparks, and Foxy’s expected return and no one on the Clover had received an update on their whereabouts.

Thumbs wasn’t someone who paced often. While the rest of the galaxy seemed to be in constant motion, Thumbs always tried his best to remain still at its center. But the longer he waited for his batchmates’ return, the more he felt like he was spinning off his axis, unable to stop the repetitive trajectory of his feet throughout the hull.

He wasn’t even aware of his own movements until they were interrupted by the sound of distant yelling. Strained shouts echoed from outside the Clover’s walls, nearly imperceptible amidst the intensifying wind. Their tone, panicked and desperate, was more bone-chilling than the rain that had started to fall around them.

Storms had always scared Thumbs. He hated seeing flashes of lightning, understanding that the explosion of thunder would follow, but never knowing when. Deep down he knew that thunder was harmless, that lightning posed the greater threat, but at least it was quick, unexpected, gone in a flash. Thunder was slow, deafening, inevitable.

When the Clover’s ramp finally lowered to reveal a bloodied Sparks cradled in Ballast’s arms, he knew that the lightning had passed.

This was the thunder.

Thumbs watched in silence as his brothers stumbled into the hull of the ship, a trail of mud and blood left in their wake. Ballast and Foxy eased Sparks onto the closest bunk, removing his armor to better assess the injury. Luna and Brisk dashed into the room, their eyes widening at the horrific sight. Luna’s breaths came in labored bursts as she called for Pepper, tears streaming down her face.

The squad’s medic came running, following the worried gaze of the two young girls who stood near the bunks. He spared a brief glance at Foxy before quickly donning a pair of gloves and shouting orders to nearby batch-mates. Hearing the commotion, Master Kenhla arrived and immediately ushered her padawans out of the room, not wanting them to witness the sight of their brother in pain.

While before Thumbs had been unable to sit still, now he felt frozen, cold as the ice on Hoth. His brothers were right in front of him, yet he felt as if he were watching the scene unfold from millions of miles away.

He kept thinking back to that morning — Sparks had been fine, albeit cranky over his lack of caf, and now…

Thumbs hated it. He hated how things could change so quickly.

He watched as Ballast, usually explosive in his mannerisms, now held Sparks’ hand in his own, whispering words of comfort as his brother lay motionless on the cot.

Thumbs suddenly felt sick to his stomach, a shrill ringing filling the air around him. The echoes of a memory that had been stagnant for years, forced into the depths of his mind, suddenly emerged:

An argument, a battle, another brother gone. A hand desperately squeezing his own before going limp, devoid of all life.

Another hand, this one from the present, landed on his shoulder, dragging him out of one nightmare and into another. A voice was speaking, asking if he was alright, telling him to sit down.

Thumbs’ guilt only increased. Hands that should be helping his fallen brother were instead on his own shoulders, urging him towards the nearest seat. He shrugged them off with an uncharacteristic roughness, finally taking a few shaky steps towards Sparks.

He had almost made it to the bunk when the same pair of arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him back.

“Thumbs, stop,” the voice urged. “You need to let Pepper help him. There’s nothing you can do.”

He knew the words were supposed to be comforting. He had spoken the same ones to almost every soldier who had come to him burdened with the invisible weight of survivor’s guilt. Sometimes it was what they needed to hear; other times, it wasn’t.

The last thing Thumbs saw was an oxygen mask being lowered onto his brother’s face before eventually succumbing to the arms around him, letting himself be removed from the scene.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Thumbs woke up the next morning with a headache.

Foxy, who had been the one to escort him out of the room the night before, filled him in on what had happened during the supply run.

Apparently as the trio had made their way back to the ship, bandits had intercepted them. The ragtag group of thieves were lacking in both numbers and artillery and hadn’t been particularly difficult to subdue. Sparks had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught in the unforgiving crossfire of a supply trip gone wrong.

Thumbs wished he had been there. Maybe then he could’ve shouted to his brother in warning or pulled him out of harm’s way. Stars, he would’ve jumped in front of the deathly bolt himself if it meant Sparks was still standing at the end of the day.

The two of them had grown close over the past few months, especially after Thumbs learned the story behind Sparks’ name. He could tell that his brother’s outwardly gruff attitude was just a shield used to protect the sensitive, guilt-ridden soldier beneath. Even one offhand criticism of his work as a mechanic could bring him back to the accident and a past he wished desperately to forget.

Because of this, Sparks would often work through the night, losing himself in the wires and circuits of the ship to ensure he didn’t make the same mistake twice. Thumbs was always at his side reminding him to take breaks, to drink water when he was thirsty, to eat when pangs of hunger hit...

But there was little he could do for Sparks now as he lay unconscious in the hull of the Clover.

Pepper had done everything he could, luckily managing to stabilize their brother within a few hours of the incident. Sparks was slowly showing signs of improvement — he had even woke up briefly in the early hours, mumbling something about watering Percy, before slipping back into the depths of unconsciousness.

Percy was the name of one of Sparks’ plants, something Thumbs discovered after walking in on his brother affectionately repotting it in a moment of assumed privacy.

He smiled at the memory, shaking his head in disbelief. It was just like Sparks to be worried about keeping his plants alive while he was barely clinging to life himself.

With nothing to do but wait until his brother woke up, Thumbs made his way into the hull of the ship where he found most of the batch engaged in a lively game of Dejarik. It was a tradition, meant to keep the batches' spirit alive when faced with tough times.

He almost started towards them when he felt a presence to his left, distanced from the laughter of the others.

Thumbs’ gaze landed on Ryder as he stared out of the cockpit window absent-mindedly, though he knew from his expression that his mind was anything but absent.

Thumbs approached slowly, not wanting to startle the squad’s weapons specialist.

“Hey Ry, you alright?”

Ryder glanced up, a flash of surprise illuminating his expression, before looking back down, his face once again shrouded in darkness.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” A barrage of laughter sounded from the other side of the room, where everyone was still gathered. “Think I’m gonna go for a ride though.”

“Oh, okay…” Thumbs replied, wanting to say more to his obviously-distracted brother. “Mind if I tag along?”

“You always do,” Ryder said, shooting him a small smirk.

“Hey!” Thumbs laughed, punching his shoulder lightly.

Ryder chuckled, nodding for Thumbs to follow him to the far corner of the hull. Once there, he opened the weapons cabinet, extracting a couple blasters and holstering them on his form.

Thumbs looked at his brother questioningly.

“Just in case,” Ryder said, carefully checking over his chosen artillery.

Thumbs nodded quickly, admonishing himself for not thinking more practically, especially after what happened with Sparks. It was a dangerous thing to give the galaxy the benefit of the doubt.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The planet they were currently docked on was beautiful. The hues of its rolling hills were softened by the dying light, the gentle breeze transforming the tall grasses into golden waves. The sky’s colors evolved with each passing minute, all evidence of the previous night’s storm lost to its changing shades.

It was Thumb’s favorite time of day. At dusk the light never seemed harsh; it was sympathetic, understanding. It hovered, never fully settling, like a cloud. But dusky light was also ephemeral. Thumbs wished he could freeze it, trap it in a jar and release it when he needed its soft companionship.

He knew too many people like dusk: perfect, until they were gone.

“It’s pretty here,” Thumbs eventually broke the silence, a welcome distraction from his own thoughts.

“Yeah,” Ryder replied as his eyes traced the horizon, “It is.”

“That why you’ve been coming out here so often?”

Thumbs knew his brother liked to take his speeder out on rides whenever he needed a break from the confines of the Clover. He would even accompany him from time to time. But recently he had been escaping much more frequently and Thumbs couldn’t help but worry that something else was going on.

Ryder chuckled lowly. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

“Hey, you’re kinda hard not to notice.” Thumbs smirked, gesturing a hand towards his brother’s head: “Ya know, cause of the hair.”

Ryder grinned, blowing a stray strand out of his face. “Yeah, sure thing curly.”

Thumbs ran a hand through his own coily locks with a shy shrug.

The two brothers fell into a comfortable silence as fireflies blinked to life around them. Thumbs pretended they were shooting stars, closing his eyes and wishing for the speedy recovery of Sparks back onboard the Clover.

After a while, the air seemed to become heavy and Thumbs could tell that Ryder needed to get something off of his chest.

His suspicion was confirmed when he heard his brother sigh deeply, preparing to speak.

“Lately…” he started, tugging on the end of his turquoise braid. “I’ve been thinking a lot.”

Thumbs nodded and moved to sit beside him in a subtle gesture of comfort.

“About them?”

Ryder nodded, knowing Thumbs was referencing his past squad.

“I’ve been having the dreams again.”

Thumbs’ face fell. He remembered the night he found out about Ryder’s nightmares as if it were yesterday.

He had been awake in the hull of the ship, too afraid that something bad might happen if he allowed himself the privilege of closing his eyes. Ryder had started tossing in his sleep, muttering the names and numbers of unfamiliar clones. Thumbs shook his brother awake, eventually guiding him outside of the ship when he struggled to regain his breath. The two of them had sat on the Clover’s ramp until long after the sun rose, each finding comfort in the other’s presence.

Since then, the nightmares had decreased, but every now and again they would return. The guilt would return.

“In the dream, I’m back on the venator,” Ryder described, his voice hoarse. “First there’s the flashing lights. Then voices, their voices, but they eventually fade away and then there’s just static. For a moment, everything is quiet, just a faint buzzing...”

Thumbs gave his brother’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, letting him know he was still there, still listening.

“And then I’m in the escape pod. As I’m drifting away, I look back towards the ship, but it’s not the venator anymore. It’s the Clover.”

He paused, swallowing thickly.

“And then it’s just gone. Swallowed by fire.”

The unsettling images unearthed feelings that Thumbs never had the courage to voice out loud, but the anxious thrumming of Ryder’s fingers on the side of the speeder reminded him of his current task: to show his brother that he was there for him now, regardless of what happened in the past.

“Ry, I know there’s not a lot I can say. But know that they would’ve been so proud of you, of the soldier and brother you’ve become,” Thumbs reassured gently. “We all are.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Ryder mumbled.

Thumbs frowned, knowing his brother wasn’t convinced.

“Well, this was supposed to be a surprise, but it looks like you need it now.”

Thumbs pulled out the pack he had brought with him, rifling through it until he found a small bundle. He nervously presented it to Ryder, who observed the way it had been carefully packaged in colorful gift wrap and adorned with stickers, most likely donated by Pepper.

“I made this for you,” Thumbs spoke as Ryder opened the parcel. “It’s a blanket, obviously, but it’s… Well, it’s got a little more to it than that. Each row of stitches is made of yarn from all the different places we’ve been to as a batch. Thought it could be cool to see how far we’ve all come. But I also know how important it is to you that we honor our pasts, so down here,” Thumbs pointed at the bottom left corner, “I stitched in the names of CT-2019 and CT-1882. And over here is General Lyle’s.”

Thumbs looked up at Ryder, trying to gauge his reaction.

“I know it doesn’t change anything, not really, but I thought maybe it could help you sleep at night.”

There was a long moment of silence as Thumbs began to doubt the impact of his gift. The whole idea was starting to sound stupid now. Maybe if he had-

“I… Thank you, Thumbs.” Ryder finally spoke, his voice cracking slightly. “Really. It’s- It’s perfect.”

Thumbs grinned, glad to see the glimmer of hope return to his brother’s eyes. “Of course, anything for my vod.”

Ryder held the blanket close, tracing his finger over the carefully stitched names of his old squad. His eyes scanned over the various colors and textures that Thumbs had incorporated, recognizing yarn from planets they hadn’t been to in years. How long had his brother been working on this?

He was just about to ask when a subtle movement drew his own gaze downwards. Thumbs was quietly bouncing his right leg, a nervous habit that Ryder had picked up on throughout their time together. He doubted that Thumbs was even aware of his own anxious mannerism, but Ryder could tell that something was on his mind.

“Hey, vod?” Ryder placed the blanket down, his focus now on his brother.

“Yeah?” Thumbs replied, still staring straight ahead.

Ryder thought back to something his companion had told him just moments ago, something that had made him feel important, valuable, seen.

“People notice you too.”

Thumbs chuckled, thinking back to when he invited himself to join Ryder on his impromptu speeder trip just hours before. “Yeah, I guess my constant pestering makes it hard not to.”

“Yeah...” Ryder continued, almost hesitantly. It would be harder getting through to his brother than he thought. “But we also notice why you do that.”

“And why’s that?” Thumbs asked casually, not quite sure where Ryder was guiding the conversation.

“Because you care.”

At this, Thumbs finally met his brother’s eyes, confusion painting his features. The words were simple, yet something about them did not fully compute.

“No matter how many idiotic things we pull, you’re always there for us.”

Thumbs held his brother’s gaze, considering his words intently, before looking down to his feet. He frowned before mumbling something, barely audible above the light breeze:

“Not when it counts.”

The words sliced through the air, contrary to the soft tone in which they were spoken. Ryder couldn’t help the immediate snap of his head towards his brother.

“What do you-”

“Yesterday, with Sparks,” Thumbs interjected, his voice gaining strength. “No amount of pestering could’ve helped him.”

There was something about the way Thumbs was speaking — something that Ryder had missed before, something familiar — that was unravelling with each passing moment.

“But he’s okay now, he’s fine,” Ryder tried to console, his brow furrowed.

Thumbs scoffed. “That was just luck. I heard what Pepper said: If his injury had been just an inch to the left…” He ran a hand through his hair frustratedly.

“Well, luck is kinda our thing,” Ryder said, repeating words that Pepper had spoken to him when he first joined the batch.

“But I don’t want it to be!”

Ryder looked up in shock. In the entire time he had known Thumbs, he had never once heard him raise his voice. But shock soon turned to concern when he noticed the tears streaming down his brother’s face.

“I don’t want to rely on luck,” Thumbs choked out, his voice softening. “Not… not when it comes to the people I care about.”

Helplessness.

Ryder was well-acquainted with the feeling — the image of his former general on the other side, the wrong side, of an escape pod window, forever etched into his memory. He tried to think of something to say that could comfort his brother, but the only words that came to mind were the ones Thumbs had already spoken to him moments before.

The whole batch knew that Thumbs had always struggled to take his own advice and that reminding him to do so never seemed to have an effect. It was unusual to see him in such a vulnerable state, something the former-strategist was well aware of as he avoided his brother’s gaze, shame written across his tear-stained features.

Ryder cringed at the sight, knowing he would need to take a more unconventional approach to offer his brother reassurance, one that would hopefully provide him with a fragment of control in a galaxy that seemed to feed on chaos.

Ryder nodded once, steeling himself, before reaching down and pulling his twin blasters out of their respective holsters.

“You know,” he started, attempting to keep his voice level, “I got these from CT-2019 and CT-1882. They were graduation gifts.”

Thumbs turned his head curiously, wiping away a stray tear in the process. A small part of him fought back the urge to smile: unlike his brother, he had been given craft supplies and a book for graduation.

“I could teach you how to shoot ‘em, if you want.”

Thumbs looked towards his brother incredulously.

“Ry, I’ve shot a blaster before...”

Ryder exhaled breathily, a playful grin gracing his features. “Ah, not ones like these. These here are DC-17 hand blasters.” He held his weapons in front of himself reverently. “They’re more powerful than your standard blaster, more efficient too.”

Thumbs hesitated, his confusion at the sudden shift in topic still evident, before nodding slowly.

“Alright, sure.”

Ryder spent the next few minutes guiding Thumbs through the best way to handle the blasters — helping him correct his stance, improve aim, and prepare for recoil. The process was strangely reassuring, giving Thumbs something tangible to hold onto, something he could control.

“Hey, Ryder?” Thumbs asked, looking down at the weapon in his hands, the echoes of its former owners serving as a comforting reminder that those who were gone could still protect their brothers who lived to fight another day. Maybe when Thumbs was gone, he could do the same.

“Thank you.”

Ryder had just begun to respond when a noise sounded from behind them.

Thumbs startled and spun on his heel, impulsively throwing the first thing he could think of towards the nearby bushes: Ryder’s blaster.

He mentally facepalmed as his brother jumped off of the speeder, aiming his remaining blaster towards the sound. He held out a hand as he crept closer to the bushes, silently telling Thumbs to stay back.

A tense moment passed, before a tooka revealed itself from behind the bush.

Thumbs sighed in relief before looking up at Ryder guiltily.

“Probably not the best use of the blaster,” he said with a cringe.

“What, you wanted to shoot it?” Ryder questioned breathlessly, a smirk growing across his features.

“No, of course not!” Thumbs smiled, relieved that his brother didn’t seem upset over his moment of panic. The tooka sauntered up to him, rubbing its head against his legs.

Ryder retrieved the discarded blaster and walked back towards the speeder, the remnants of a smirk still visible on his face. “Well, looks like good things can come from bad luck.”

“Yeah,” Thumbs huffed, looking down at the small animal by his feet. “Guess so.”

And maybe that’s what Clone Force 37 was: a group of outcasts who were all in the process of turning their histories with bad luck into good things — good luck.

“C’mon, hop up,” Ryder said as held out an arm. “Let’s get back to the ship.”

Thumbs let himself be pulled into the speeder, the firm grip of his brother’s hand a silent reassurance: I’m here for you.

He leaned back, his eyes reflecting the stars that had started to appear above. He wondered how many of them he couldn’t see, how many millions of lives were being lived just out of his view.

Thumbs glanced over to the brother at his side, thinking about how lucky he was to have crossed paths with him, with all of them, in a universe of infinite proportions.

“We should probably pick up some caf for Sparks on the way back… I know he’ll want some when he wakes up,” Thumbs spoke, laying all the way back in the speeder.

Ryder nodded in agreement as they lurched forward. The sun had finally disappeared from view and the two soldiers soon became mere silhouettes against the dimming night sky.

But anyone familiar with Clone Force 37 knew that they were so much more than two small blips on the horizon:

They were brothers.

And Thumbs was positive that nothing in the galaxy could ever change that.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

@the-lucky-batch @lavenderstaars @lynnpaper @foxlock @maygalodon @mango-peachjuice @radbatch @letsunity @burnthashbrown27 @generaltano @catboy-tech @cosmicghostie @namesmox @monako-jinn-stories @longearedowlfromouterspace @lusiawonder @just-another-dreamerr

#the lucky batch #clone force 37 #fam force 37 #cf37 thumbs #cf37 sparks #cf37 ryder #cf37 ballast #cf37 luna #cf37 foxy #cf37 pepper #cf37 kenhla #cf37 brisk

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missysvault · 4 years ago

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Hurt || Pt.1

Summary: “Missy’d hurt you and she didn’t care. The realization made your blood boil; you were mad at her.”

Warnings: Mild violence??? Reader’s gonna get hurt, not fatally, but it’s there.

Word Count: 1169

A/N: Wow okay so here we are... the first part of this angsty mess. I’m planning three parts for this and everyone will be fineee

“Oh come on, Missy! It’d be fun!” You tugged on Missy’s arm, wrinkling her stark white cuffs, as you tried to tug her along. The department store down the street was having a sale and you’d bought a very large, intricate Lego set as a weekend activity. Somehow it’d now made its way down to the vault, much to Missy’s annoyance. “I could never afford these as a kid.” To her credit, she hated being yanked about like a puppy and you knew that; still sometimes, you did it anyways.

“You don’t think I have anything better to do for the next two days than play about with some tinker toy with you?” Missy entertained your ideas occasionally, let you hang onto her and be frivolous, but today she was in one of her moods and not so forgiving. You should’ve known not to pressure her. “Why are you being so annoying?” It wasn’t odd that she pushed you away. Sometimes if you got on her nerves enough she’d brush you off or move you to the side, but never too roughly. This time, you must’ve truly been irritating her because when she pushed, she pushed. With a surprised yelp, you fell into the wooden arm of her chair a few steps away; you were prone to falling, it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. This time, Missy caught you off guard, shoving you back before you could stop yourself from falling too hard.

Missy heard the crack a few seconds before you felt it, stood frozen while you crumbled from where you landed on the piece of furniture and slowly doubled over onto the floor. “Poppet?” She sounded hesitant, cautiously judging. You were used to rough behavior, but it was typically confined to the bedroom and you’d never heard such a crack- Missy tried to be careful with her human. “Get up now, don’t be dramatic.” When you didn’t respond she knelt next to you, grabbing your arms to try to stand you up. Reluctantly you went with her, but remained bent at the waist, hand gently cradling your rib cage as well as you could. It did nothing to help the pain. That wood hadn’t been forgiving in the slightest.

“I’m fine, Miss.” You were not, but you saw the judging look in her eye and had to look away; she would know you were lying instantly. She always knew. Usually, she’d play it off, but she stayed in tune to every part of you she could. If you had more energy to reassure her you would, but self-preservation kicked in faster.

“You don’t seem very fine.” Missy carefully guided you off the floor and onto the sofa, the plush cushions a welcome relief to your aching side when she let you sit down. Still, every breath was a task and you were clearly injured a great deal. “Did I push you too hard?”

You waved her off, trying to sit upright and failing. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but I… I should probably see a doctor, huh?” You couldn’t let her know how much it hurt. She’d get upset, maybe even try to fix you and injure you further… and you hated the passing thought through your mind that she was capable of hurting you much more if she decided to. She wouldn’t. On a good day you couldn’t outsmart her, but while in enough pain you could barely sit up straight? You were easy prey if she decided she wanted to lash out at something. She could. “I’m sure urgent care could see me this afternoon if I hurry.” You couldn’t hurry if you tried.

Missy came to sit next to you before you gained the strength to stand, reaching out to place a hand on your thigh and you hated yourself for shifting away, could instantly see the disappointment across her face. Nevertheless, Missy pressed on, smoothing her skirts down as if she’d never tried to touch you at all. “I could wrap you up and you’d be right as-“

“No!” You leapt from the couch and god, it hurt so deeply you could feel tears budding in the corners of your eyes. “I mean.. no, don’t bother, it’s not worth it.” Before you knew it you were backing away from her, taking advantage of the forced burst of energy and moving towards the vault door with every step. “Besides I probably need uh, human care, you know, boring stuff like you always say.” Just how much pain you were in hadn’t set in yet; Missy often took the limitations of humans as loose guidelines instead of hard limits. She looked so small sitting alone on the couch, staring you down with a mix of hurt and frustration. This was her fault, she didn’t mean it, but it was and you didn’t want to risk further injury. You were mad and you needed some sort of painkiller, if not some solid anesthesia to set your rib back in place and she wasn’t concerned. Missy’d hurt you and she didn’t care. The realization made your blood boil; you were mad at her. “I won’t tell the doctor though, I promise.” He’d go mad if he knew what happened; honestly, he might be more mad finding out you only told him after the fact, but you had to take that chance. Upset as you were, you didn’t want him to take it out on Missy. She didn’t mean to. Your hand was on the door, you were almost out and then you could cry. “The doctor, I mean, tall, grumpy… won’t breathe a word of it.” Missy wouldn’t let you go if she thought you’d discuss this with the Doctor, you both knew there’d be repercussions for that.

“What?” Her head tilted in confusion for a minute before she understood what you were getting at. If he found out, they could most likely say goodbye to your free vault access. Missy knew that. She understood now. Missy scoffed, rolling her eyes as she watched you fall against the door in an exhausted huff. “I don’t- He doesn’t matter, it wasn’t on purpose!” The Doctor had given both of you many lectures on rules and regulations and such, but you never paid them any mind- Missy liked to push, but she’d never permanently harmed you. “Why ever would you tell him?” Her voice was too small, wavering with apprehension.

Finally, the vault door opened under your touch and you quickly slipped through it, shooting Missy a watery, apologetic smile. It was as much as you could manage for the burning pain radiating through your chest and you’d be lucky if you got to your car without having to sit midway there or ask for assistance. “I’ll see you later, Missy…” You wished you hadn’t looked at her; you would’ve been spared seeing her finally move, at last getting it. Her hand stretching towards the door, reaching for you before falling back to the couch cushion, dejected.

#missy x reader #the master x reader #missyxreader #gomez!master x reader #gomez!master #doctor who imagine #my fic.#posts this and yeets

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skylights2000 · 4 years ago

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Switch! (Gundham x Fem! Reader) Part 7

Music poured softly from the speakers as you drove home. You’d stayed late at the workshop to finish up a dresser that was being picked up tomorrow. The sun was setting, turning the sky a lovely shade of purple.

You were finally starting to get back into your routine, with a few exceptions. Sonia and Gundham came by to drag you out of your house at least once a week. Sometimes, they just randomly came over to hang out.

Sure, you hung out with them before. You were friends, after all, but you weren’t as close to them, especially not Gundham.

You were almost thankful for the whole switching places thing just because it finally broke down the wall between you two.

It felt like you really were friends now, not just awkward acquaintances. Not to mention, it brought you closer to Sonia too. You found that you actually had more in common with each other than you thought.

You’d both grown up mostly by yourselves. You were in an orphanage, and Sonia’s parents were always busy, so she was raised mainly by her governess, Sarah. You both had felt out of place in your own countries and found a real home here in Japan.

You both shared a strange fascination in the supernatural, though Sonia was the one that actually ventured into it. That was actually how you met Gundham.

Sonia had called you one day, saying she found ‘a master of the dark arts’ that she wanted you to meet. That’s how you were introduced to the mysterious and eccentric Gundham Tanaka.

Looking back on it made you smile. You never could’ve guessed the chaos and good memories that would follow that meeting.

You were knocked out of your thoughts when you reached your house. You parked in the driveway and got out. Winter was coming, and it was cold outside. You were making your way up the little path that led to your front steps when you noticed something.

“Is that..blood?” You crouched down to inspect the red stains on the concrete. The second you did the coppery smell of fresh blood hit you. Then you noticed something else. It wasn’t just that one spot. There was a trail of blood leading up your front steps.

You hesitated before rushing up the front steps, only to freeze completely at what you saw. There was a dog on your doorstep, it’s fur matted with blood.

“Oh shit.”

~Time Skip Brought to You By My Lazy Ass~

You’d called Sonia on the way, and after very frantically explaining the situation, you asked where Gundham lived. She gave you his address and said she’d call him to let him know you were coming.

Sure enough, the second you got there the front door burst open. You wasted no time carefully lifting the dog out of the passengers seat.

“I patched her up as best as I could, but I wanted to make sure she’s gonna be okay. Please tell me she’s gonna be okay.” You pleaded, already on the verge of tears.

“Come inside.”

You nodded and followed after him quickly. Neither of you spoke as Gundham checked over your work on the wound. After a minute, he gave an approving nod and looked to you.

“You did well, mortal. This hellbeast-“

“Mavis.”

“Excuse me?”

“Her name is Mavis.”

He blinked several times, wondering if he’d imagined that. “You..named her?”

You nodded awkwardly. “I was panicking. It was something to calm myself down.”

Again, he stared at you for a moment before looking back to Mavis.

He cleared his throat. “She will thrive again once she has healed. For now” He got to his feet and guided you into the kitchen. He turned on the sink and turned to you, motioning to your arms, and you suddenly realized how crazy you must look.

Your forearms and shirt were smeared with blood, and you moved to the sink. Gundham disappeared for a minute, and you washed your hands and arms, watching in a grim kind of fascination as the water ran red.

Once you were done, you dried your arms and straightened up. You heard footsteps approaching you, and when you turned around, Gundham stepped through the kitchen doorway.

“Here, you may wear this.” He held out black sweater to you. “Some mortals will make accusations if you traipse around covered in blood.”

You thanked him as you took it, and he turned away from you so you could swap shirts.

The sweater was big on you, falling off one shoulder and dipping just below your collarbones. You rolled the sleeves up until you could at least see your fingers. It was warm and soft, and you smiled as you thanked him again.

He turned to face you again before pausing. He turned on the sink long enough to dip his fingers under it before turning it off again.

“What are you-“

He held your head gently and ran his thumb across your cheek. While he was occupied, you just looked at him. You’d always been fascinated by his eyes. When you first met him, you assumed he wore contacts, but no, his eyes were really like that. You’d heard many people call them strange, but you found them weirdly beautiful.

You found Miu’s words coming back to you.

“How do you feel about Gundham?”

You weren’t lying when you said you’d never thought about it, but now that you were thinking about it, you couldn’t help but wonder, as well.

How did you feel about Gundham?

You felt something brush your leg, and when you looked, you found Mavis sitting beside you, tail brushing the floor as it wagged. You smiled and crouched down to pet her. “Hey there.” You greeted her happily. “How ya feelin’?”You giggled when she licked your face.

“What tribe did you belong to?”

You stared up at him for a long moment, eyebrows drawn together in confusion before your eyes lit up. “Oh! Are you asking if I’ve ever had a pet?”

“I believe that is how the mortals refer to it.”

You smiled and went back to petting Mavis. “I used to have a dog. My foster mother, Hinako, got her on the same day that she adopted me. We grew up together, but she passed away a while back.”

Knowing she was gone still stung, but you had so many good memories with her that you couldn’t help the way your heart warmed. “I wish you coulda met her. I think she woulda loved you.”

Maybe he sensed your sadness, but Gundham crouched down beside you, petting Mavis gently. “I see she was very loved.”

The words were enough to bring the smile back to your lips. “She still is loved.”

Gundham had a soft kind of smile on his face. It was just barely there, but it was somehow the most genuine smile you’d ever seen from him.

“Hey, can I ask you something kind of personal?”

He shot you a curious glance before nodding.

“What happened to your father?”

He paused, hand hanging briefly in mid air before he resumed petting Mavis. “He was slain in a car accident.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

He just waved his hand dismissively. “Do not be. I do not miss him.”

“Huh?”

Gundham’s expression turned stony, his eyes glowing coldly. “He was cruel to my mother and I.”

You hesitated, wondering if you really wanted to push, but you wanted to know. You wanted to be there for Gundham. “Was he..?”

You didn’t have to finish because Gundham knew what you were thinking.

“Yes. He was abusive.” He admitted somberly.

Your hand stilled in Mavis’ fur. “...So those scars on your arms and shoulders..Were they from him?”

“So you saw them.”

It wasn’t really a question, but you nodded anyway. He sighed softly.

“Yes, they were his doing.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes, and they slid down your cheeks before falling to the floor. You lunged at him and wrapped your arms around him, effectively knocking him backwards.

He stiffened up, but you didn’t let go, and eventually, he curled his arms around your waist. He patted you softly on the back until your crying died down to little sniffles, and you pulled away, wiping at your eyes.

You smiled bashfully, feeling a bit embarrassed by your outburst. “Sorry about that.”

“There is no need to apologize.” He assured you. “It was..nice.” He murmured, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it.

You quickly realized that you were practically in his lap, and heat flared in your cheeks. Suddenly, there was fur in your face as Mavis burrowed in between you two, licking Gundham’s face before moving to lick yours too. You burst into a fit of hiccupy giggles, almost falling over from the weight of it as you got up.

You held out your hands to him, and when he took them, you pulled him up with an amount of ease that surprised him.

“You are stronger than you appear.

You raised your chin and grinned playfully. “Don’t mind me. Just the female Hercules.” You flexed very dramatically, and it was well worth it because Gundham laughed. Not the maniacal laugh or that deep chuckle. This was a full blown, unrestrained laugh, the kind that made your shoulders shake and your eyes water.

You just stared at him in complete awe. “Damn.”

At first, he thought you were disgusted by his laugh; then, he raised his eyes to find you grinning wider than he’d ever seen. Your eyes seemed to shine when you smiled like that. They crinkled at the edges, turning into little crescent moons.

“You have a beautiful smile.”

He didn’t even realize he’d said it out loud until you flushed and looked away from him, smile turning shy.

“Th-Thank you.”

He felt his own face reddening, so he quickly changed the subject. “Do you wish to keep her?”

You looked down at Mavis and did something that surprised him.

“What do you wanna do?” You asked her.

To your surprise the fluffy white dog stood up on her hind legs, placing her paws on your stomach, her tail wagging wildly behind her.

You grinned and ruffled her fur, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll take that as a yes, okay?”

Mavis barked happily, earning a giggle from you and a satisfied smile from Gundham. He always loved seeing an animal go to a good home, and when he remembered the terrified look in your eyes as you held Mavis, he knew she would thrive in your care.

#danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa goodbye despair #gundham x reader #gundham tanaka #gundham imagine #injured animal #fem reader

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abluescarfonwaston · 3 years ago

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🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Here, my dear, is the sum of the fic as it exists in its 9k glory. Fun fact Edgeworth's pov is 11k so far. Omegaverse au - Wrightworth. Currently Teen and Up rating.

“Why do you two insist on doing that?”

“Cause it’s fun!” Larry laughed above him, rolling off of him and onto the playgrounds woodchips when he pushed him.

Miles slid off the jungle gym he’d been observing them from. Offered his hand to help him up.

He took it and let him pull him up. “It is! You should try it!”

“No thank you.” Miles swept his hands over Phoenix’s shirt, dislodging some of the dirt. Not that it made a huge difference. It was just a t-shirt after all.

“Come on Edgey!” Larry wrapped an arm around his neck, leaning heavily on him. “I’ll even go easy on you if you want! Or are you just scared you’ll mess up your fancy clothes?”

His cheeks flushed red as he stammered out a protest, picking a chip from Larry’s hair. “I just don’t see the point of rolling in the dirt!”

Larry laughed. Crowed like a chicken, grinning as Miles face grew hotter and hotter. He never knew if Miles would cry or get angry. He wasn’t sure if Miles knew either right until the moment the emotion burst from him.

So he did what any reasonable nine year old would do: tackled Larry to the ground. “You’re upsetting him!” Larry just laughed as they twisted and wrestled, having achieved exactly what he wanted.

Larry pinned him again- it was unfair how much better at this Larry was. He wiggled and tried to dislodge him but Larry remained firmly atop his stomach, grinning.

He sighed and dropped his head back. Another loss to Larry Butz. Miles was staring at him from his playground perch. A goofy smile started on his face.

Miles tilted his head just a hair smiled, one of his tiny rare smiles, right back.

It didn’t feel quite so much like losing then.

“First!” Larry posed his hands on hips and puffed out his chest. “We’re going to build a pillow fort!”

Miles held the remote, not turning the television on yet but clearly posed to if Larry responded poorly. “Why?”

“Because I have it on good authority this movie’s real scary!” Half his mouth pulled upward in pride at his secret knowledge. He jabbed a finger at Phoenix. “And we don’t want the scaredy cat making us go home early!”

“Hey!”

Miles set the remote carefully down on the table and nodded. “Alright. What do we do?”

At Larry’s direction, they made one. It was remarkably well made and comfortable inside. They laid on the carpeted floor on top of a blanket and pillows and peered up at the screen from under the fabric canopy.

Larry and him yelped and jumped back into the fort. Clinging to each other. Listening to the clashing of swords and tense music.

Miles stayed. Eye’s trained on the screen.

He inched forward. Larry clung to him, eyes squeezed tight. He didn’t move far enough to see the screen. "Are they winning?” He whispered weakly.

Miles face was tense but unwavering. “No.” He did not look away. He squeezed the pillow tighter against his chest. “They’re not.”

He reached out and took one of Miles clenched hands in his. It was shaking. He squeezed it. “Not yet.”

Miles squeezed back. “Not yet.”

Miles was more than happy to outline the entire fight in dramatic hand motion for them once the movie was over.

“Bedtime boys.”

“Okay Mom!”

Larry climbed out of the fort and stretched his arms up into the air. He followed after.

Miles didn’t follow them out. “Can we sleep in here tonight?”

“You scared Edgey?” Larry grinned sleepily.

“No.” It wasn’t the sharp no that really meant yeah. It was just a no. “It’s just. Nice.” His cheeks flushed.

“We could drag one of the futons in and sleep on that!” He proposed.

“Yeah.” Larry yawned. “Okay.”

It was way too small for the three of them. Mostly cause Larry spread out like a starfish and took up half the bed.

Miles curled up on the opposite side, his back pressed into the couch. Rubbed his cheek against the soft fleece blanket.

Phoenix flopped down next to him, sharing the same un-Larry filled third. “I don’t want Larry to kick me again.” He explained, hoping Miles wasn’t annoyed at how close they were. Their hands were almost touching.

He just made a happy noise and sank heavy into the pillow.

It was nice in here.

The first boom of thunder had him jumping out of his skin.

The second and he was running back into the building.

He did not like Thunder. Hated how loud it was and how it rumbled and it – it – it.

It was scary.

“Phoenix!” His wrist was trapped in Miles firm grip. Yanking him to a halt. “Where are you going?”

He couldn’t swallow the yelp at the next boom or the way his shoulders drew up to his ears while he desperately covered them.

He held his breath. Unable to breath in or out.

Miles tugged him forward. Pulled him down onto one of the library’s bean bag chairs shoved into the corner of the kids section.

He pulled his knees to his chest and pressed his hands tighter against his skull.

The chair shifted as Miles curled up next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

“Um. We can wait here until it stops. I don’t think my umbrella would work right now anyway.”

He nodded into his knees and tried to hide the tears that were escaping.

“Do you…” The fabric of Miles jacket shifted over his arm. “Want a hug?”

He nodded. An arm wrapped around his back and squeezed his shoulder.

He twisted and buried his face in Miles shoulder. Clinging to the soft cotton of his buttoned shirt. Trying to swallow the sobs.

He really didn’t like thunderstorms.

Miles hands slowly came up and held him. Cradling him to his chest.

He choked on a wobbly inhale and cuddled in tighter.

“Do you want me to read something?” One hand disappeared and the zipper of his bag sounded.

“S-sure.”

Miles read quietly to him, chin hooked over his shoulder. The soft cadence of his voice easing the mountain of tension from his shoulders. He snuffled trying to keep his nose from running. Miles just handed him a tissue without pausing.

His nose honked loudly when he blew it and that did make Miles pause to glare at him. He just smiled sheepishly in return.

He didn’t need to stay in Miles lap. He should probably get up and move next to him. But he didn’t want to. And Miles didn’t ask him to. Hummed warmly when he tucked his head back into his shoulder.

“You smell nice.” He nuzzled against the collar of his shirt and the bowtie there.

He did. He couldn’t put his finger on what he smelled like but it felt the same way blankets pulled warm from a dryer did. Warm. Comforting. Soothing.

The pounding rain and even the occasional boom of thunder was muted by that gentle warmth wrapped around him

He didn’t even notice when he drifted off to sleep.

Not until a librarian was shaking them awake a while later, worry and amusement lining the soft lines her face.

“Mmghn.” He moved the horsy again. “Can we do something else?”

“Like what?” Miles moved the castle.

Rain beat against the window. Rattling it. He moved a pawn. What a waste of their day off. Trapped inside by a storm.

He bet Larry was having fun. Or maybe he was just trapped in a hotel room with the rest of his family.

He flopped back on the bed. He heard the pieces rattle. Miles made an annoyed sound so some of them must have fallen. “I don’t know.”

He grumbled and picked the board up. Set it on his desk. “You didn’t have a better idea!”

“I didn’t think chess would be boring! You made it sound fun!”

“It is fun.”

He put his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. It didn’t seem that fun to him. “We could play signal samurai?”

“Without Larry?”

He had a point.

“Your Game Boy?”

“The batteries are just as dead as the last time you asked.” He crossed his arms and frowned at the window. “And we’re not going out for replacements in this.”

“Courthouse?”

“Still a person short. Who would we defend?”

“Uh… Rescue?”

Miles shook his head. “All our games are for three people.”

He sat up. “I don’t see you suggesting anything!”

“I suggested chess but you don’t want to play that!”

“… Then if I suggest a two person game you’ll try it? Even if you don’t think you’ll like it? Cause I tried chess!” He pointed out.

Miles narrowed his eyes. “… Fine.”

He grinned and jumped to the edge of the bed. “Great! Then we’re wrestling!”

“What?! No!”

“You said you’d try it!”

“But- But…” His eyes flickered around the room. To the floor. “We’ll get hurt on the wood.”

“We’ll play on the bed!”

“We’ll hit the wall! Fall!”

He looked back at it. “We can put cushions up!” Miles stared down at the floor. Sour expression. “Come on! You promised you’d try.”

That got him a glare. “I didn’t promise.” The scowl deepened. “Fine.”

He’d stalked out of the room before he realized Miles had agreed.

He dashed after him.

Miles pulled the cushions off the couch and some spare blankets from a closet. Shoved them into his hands and grabbed some more.

Miles frowned when they reentered the room. Climbed up on the bed and shoved the cushions between the wall. Took the blankets and bunched them out on the edges of the bed. Shoved the pillows against the headboard. Sat in the center of the bed considering it.

“Good enough?”

His scowl deepened but he didn’t rearrange anything.

“Good enough!” He decided, tackling Miles.

It got him a yelp. Miles wiggled in his grip and they twisted and rolled on the bed until he let Miles pin him.

He grinned up. Miles sat on his heels and huffed. “There. I win?”

Miles hair was all rumpled and out of place. He was always so careful about his appearance. It was nice to see him rumpled.

His smile just got bigger. “Sure. You win.” Nodded. “Round one.”

He lunged upward and flipped Miles onto his back.

Miles blinked up at him. He pressed down on his shoulders waiting for Miles to try and throw him off.

Miles stared at him. Reached up and-

Rearranged his hair. Carded through his spikes.

“Your hair got messed up.”

That wasn’t how this game was supposed to go.

But…

He leaned into the motion. A purr starting.

He drifted so far into the motion he fell over. Off to the side.

Miles propped himself on his elbow. Staring at him.

“Does that mean I win again?”

“I pinned you!”

He stifled a yawn. “Tie game then?”

“Okay.” He looked at the spare blankets on the side and the raised sides the couch cushions made. “Wanna build a fort?”

Miles eyes lit up almost like they did when he talked about law.

He dragged one of the blankets up and shoved one end behind the cushion, making a little triangle tent. Larry would have made something better. He knew how to make the best pillow forts.

Miles eyes shone. He stared up at the fuzzy ceiling. Reached up and pet the fleece. His chest didn’t rumble but it stuttered a quite purr.

Miles liked it. He did good.

His chest swelled with happy. His purr making him unsteady with its unintentional volume.

Miles was staring at him and his face was heating up but it wouldn’t stop. He covered his face with his hands.

“Do you… want to read?”

He nodded. Listened to Miles shuffle out. Come back with a stack of books. He grabbed one off the top and buried his face in it.

Miles scooted next to him. Shoulder to shoulder. Opened up a large tome.

A few chapters later there was a heavy weight on his shoulder. Miles. Sleeping. Small contented noises escaping.

He rested his cheek on the crown of his head. Miles smelled nice.

He closed his eyes to the sound of beating rain and Miles soft breathing.

Blinked blearily awake to Mr. Edgeworth’s soft chuckling. “Time to eat boys.”

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and they climbed out together.

And then Miles was gone.

He showed Larry the heart shaped necklace. Recounted the entire tale with waving hands and hearts in his eyes. They were Soulmates. Maybe even True mates. Fairy tale or not - he just landed in one.

“Sounds like one hella cute omega.” Larry grinned up at him.

“Hey!” He smacked his shoulder. “I didn’t say she was an omega!”

Larry snorted and rolled onto his back. Stinking up his bed with his stupid alpha scent. “You alwaysfall for omegas Nicky.”

“No I don’t!”

“Yeah you do! Your nose is just too shit to realize!”

He growled. “My nose is not shit!”

Larry sat up. Pointed at him. “Twenty bucks says she’s an omega just like every other chick you’ve had a crush on.”

“Hey you can’t prove that!”

He started listing off names. His face heated.

Pointed his objection. “Racheal wasn’t an omega!”

“Dude. Bro. My man.” Larry clapped his shoulder. Eyes pitying. “She totally was. She just used a shit ton of blockers. An omega gives you the time of day and you’re done. You’ve always been like that.”

“Oh yeah?” He was three seconds from yanking him to the floor for a tousle on the rug.

“Yeah. Even before we presented. I mean, Lucy, Lucia, Matilda, Samantha-”

“Stop!” He shoved his face into his knees and covered his ears. “Lucy transferred! That one’s not even fair!”

He laughed that annoying Larry laugh. “She was totally going to present as an omega dude!”

“You can’t just assume!”

“It was so obvious though. She was an omega, we were going to be alphas. It was practically carved into grade school stone.”

“You can’t tell until someone presents. You’re not a doctor Larry.” You weren’t even a high school grad.

“PFT. You know for someone so smart you’re really dumb sometimes.” Larry kicked his leg. “You don’t present out of nowhere. Those instincts are always there. You’re just too dumb to look.”

“I’m not dumb!”

“Twenty bucks your girlfriends an omega!”

“You’re on!”

He smacked the twenty into Larry’s waiting hand. “Shut up.” He growled. “It’s not like you’re any better.”

He smirked. Waving the bill and shaking his head. “Unlike you, my hearts not so fickle as to limit itself to omegas. Any beautiful lady can steal my heart!”

Yeah that sure seems true. You tried to date every girl in our high school class.

“Why I’ll have you know Clary is an Alpha! She pinned me last week and I’ve never been more in love!” His eyes filled with tears. “We’re gonna be together forever!”

“Sure Larry. Sure.”

“You swallowed glass?”

He curled into his bed and pillow. There were still whiffs of her left.

She’d tried to kill him. She said she hated him.

Why do you think she’s actually been dating you all this time?

“Shut up Larry.”

“You wanna fight? I mean you have to be pissed right?”

He pressed the pillow harder to his face.

“… Yeah alright.” The bed creaked and Warmth pressed into his back as Larry laid down behind him. “Glad you didn’t die bro. I always knew that omega was shit.”

“Did you?”

Come on Wright. It’s obvious she’s just using you. You were just the perfect rube.

An arm wrapped around his waist. Larry’s head pressed against the back of his neck.

“… Nah man. She always seemed really nice.”

By the time Edgeworth joined them for the celebratory party Larry was already several drinks ahead of everyone else. Edgeworth eyed him worriedly.

“Come on.” He slid his beer over to Edgeworth and aimed for a reassuring smile. “You’re a free man now. You could stand to relax and enjoy it a little.”

He slowly reached out and took the drink. Cheeks still flush from the December air outside. “Right.”

He grinned and it felt very silly in his cheeks. That only made him grin more. Scooting closer to him at the bar. “That’s my name!”

Edgeworth’s sharp eyes glared at him over the rim of the glass. “How many have you had Wright?”

He drifted closer. Elbow supporting him on the bar as he gazed upward at Miles. At his eyes that liked to hide behind his bangs. One of the ceiling lamps haloed his hair and made it shine. “Not that many.”

Miles didn’t pull away. Didn’t shove him away. Just stared right back. Like a painting. The amber liquid held in his hand. Maybe he could pull out those old paintbrushes and capture the image forever.

“Edgey!” Larry’s arms wrapped around Miles neck. Yanking him slightly off kilter. The beer sloshed in his glass. “There you are! We’ve been waiting for you!”

A tiny rumble of annoyance escaped the prosecutor. He shoved Larry slightly, elbowing him. “That’s a blatant lie.”

“Haha yeah. But you know I saved you yesterday so I think you owe me!”

“I think you’re more than adequately intoxicated.”

“I’m fine!” He whined, nuzzling against the increasingly irate Miles. “No fair Edgey, help a brother out!”

“You’re more than capable of making a spectacle of yourself without my help Larry.”

Larry stopped rubbing his face against Miles suit jacket, brow drawn together in a brief moment of something. Which was good because he knew firsthand how irritating that felt. Stupid facial hair. He was half tempted to yank Larry off him just for the sake of keeping the peace.

He reached over to do exactly that. “He said no Larry, come on.” He really needed to learn boundaries. Like don’t touch Miles.

He wanted to growl it.

Larry tightened his grip and hooked his chin over Miles shoulder. Eyes unfocused and staring at the bar wall.

“Yeah yeah fine. You can repay me by drive me home then.”

Miles shoulders drew up. “If you think I’m letting you into my car-“

Larry whispered right into his ear. Over the drone of the bar he couldn’t make it out.

His shoulders tensed impossibly tighter. His face turned further away. Considering Larry. The soft pink flush of his cheeks draining away.

The glass connected harshly with the bar and he stood. Larry sticking like a leach to his back. “Fine.”

“Wha” He stood just as suddenly. Reaching out to grab his sleeve. “But you just got here!” His hand wrapping around Mile’s wrist. “Just call him a cab!”

Miles stared at the point of connection. His hand wrapped around his wrist. For one heartbeat.

Two.

Three.

“Edgey…”

He pulled his wrist free. Rubbing it with his free hand. He hadn’t been holding it that tightly. He didn’t look at Phoenix. “He’ll just get into more trouble if we do that. Excuse us.” He bowed slightly, which seemed difficult to do with Larry the leach and turned. Walked out of the bar.

He took the discarded drink back and grumbled. It wasn’t fair of Larry to kidnap Miles like that.

He paused halfway through an irritated sip to wonder when Edgeworth had become Miles again.

He couldn’t find his suit jacket before he biked after Maya. It was probably just hidden somewhere under the piles of cans and take out containers strewn about the office. He was in a rush. He didn’t have time to look.

It was weirder that it didn’t show up after he’d finished cleaning.

… Well hopefully he wouldn’t need to go to court until it turned up. He didn’t need to add a new jacket to his expenses.

It showed up a week later in the arms of a faux apologetic Larry.

He snatched it back. “I was THIS close to buying a new one Larry! Of course it was you. It’s always you!”

“Hey man that hurts! And I swear it was for a good cause!”

“Oh yeah? And what was that?”

Larry looked away. Rubbed the back of his head. “Uhhh. To help out a friend.” Sure Larry.

“Which friend?’

His eyes stayed trained on the wall. Sweat starting. “You don’t know em.” He lied. Like a liar.

“And how did my jacket help them?”

“That’s not important.”

He growled. “Larry…”

“Anyway! It’s been dry cleaned so you’re not even allowed to get mad! It’s totally fine!”

“I should be getting mad!?” What the hell did you do to my suit jacket?!

“NO!”

He tackled him. Pinning him to the ground. “Larry-”

Was pinned to the ground a moment later. Larry’s weight distributed so efficiently he could hardly wiggle. Arms held firmly to the floor above him.

“Why are you still so much better at this than me?!” He demanded trying to break free.

He grinned that stupid guileless grin. “I win. So now you have to forgive me!”

“Tell me what I’m forgiving you for!”

“Taking your jacket. Obviously.”

“WHY!?” He crunched. Arms lifting an inch off the ground. Larry’s balance shifted slightly and-

He was pinned back to the ground.

“Nuh uh. Losers don’t get to make demands.” Shook his head. “It was for a good cause Nicky. I swear. Your sacrifice really helped out a friend in need.”

“…” He let the tension drain from his arms. “You’re not lying to me?”

Larry let his wrists go and leaned back on his heels. Crossed his heart with his hands. “Edgey boy levels of honesty.” He smiled. Sleeves slipping over his hands. “Besides I smelled that thing when I took it. You should be thanking me. I’m the reason it finally got cleaned!”

He lunged upward for round two.

Every time Ema and him entered Edgeworth’s office he felt a little more trapped. On edge. Desperate. Like he needed to do something. Fight someone. Not Edgeworth. Never Edgeworth. But someone.

Edgeworth he wanted to pin to the ground. Squish into the pink sofa until all the pain left him. Until he was asleep and content in his arms. Until things were all right again.

This case just kept getting worse and worse for him.

“Mr. Wright…” They waited for the elevator. She worried a shape into the pad of her notebook. “Is Mr. Edgeworth going to be alright?”

A letter of resignation.

“His office. It just smelled so…”

Larry said he had a bad nose. Maybe if he had a good one he’d be able to identify what it was.

His gut was a tight ball. His hands clenched in his pockets.

Just because he couldn’t smell it didn’t mean he didn’t feel it.

“Let’s just focus on the case for now.”

“R-right.”

A note on a desk.

“No.” No. He spun around- ready to lash out. To draw blood. This room- this room-

Gumshoe pulled him into his coat and arms. “I’m sorry pal.”

“No.” His fingers dug into the older Alpha’s shirt. Nails pulling the fabric apart at the seams. “No. I was supposed to save him.”

Gumshoes arms held him tighter. Chest roaring with the mountain of distress. “That’s not how it works pal.”

He buried his tears into Detective Gumshoe’s painful purr.

Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death.

“Nick.”

He didn’t need a good nose to know she was upset.

He wrapped his arms around her. Rubbed his cheek against the base of her neck. She pressed her head up into his hair.

“It’s going to be okay Maya. I got this.”

A high pitched noise. “I knew you were special someone’s!”

Maya pulled away, turning to Pearl. “Pearly that’s not!”

“It’s really not.” Way to make this weird.

“It’s time.” A bailiff told them.

“Come on. We’ve got this.”

Franziska didn’t even have the politeness to pretend to apply scent blockers. No. She let her Alpha rage roll off her like ocean waves.

The courtroom isn’t your personal battlefield Von Karma.

Grow up or Get out.

Honestly, she was just making the rest of them look bad. Playing into every angry alpha stereotype.

Of course she had a whip. Of course. Wasn’t that just perfect?

Maya was gone. Maya was gone.

In the hands of an assassin.

He coated on scent blocker. Closed his shaking hands into fists and did what needed to be done.

Go get Matt Engarde a full acquittal.

How dare you come back. How dare you.

“Franziska-” Edgeworth reached out his hand to her. She watched it. Flinched away.

No blockers meant even he could read her.

Anger. Anger and distress. Distress.

Edgeworth wanted to comfort her.

She snatched the tulips from his hands. “I think visiting hours are over.” Retreated.

Edgeworth’s hand stayed aloft for a moment more. Fell.

“Wright. Tell me what’s going on. You clearly didn’t want trial to be adjourned today.”

“Wright.” He jolted. Head jerking to Edgeworth. What was?

“What are you doing here? You left… hours ago.”

He was collapsed in a chair. Pearl, sleeping between his lap and a second chair pulled up next to him. He wanted to look at Edgeworth but his eyes kept drifting back to Maya. Where she and Larry and Lotta and Gumshoe were dancing across the Gatewater floor.

“Yes. I… Managed to catch up with Franziska. Thank you for giving me her whip.”

“Oh that’s…” This thumb drew small circles on Pearl’s shoulder. Maya beamed as Larry twirled her. Safe. Safe. They were safe. “Good.”

“Wright.” There was a hand on his shoulder. He should jerk away from it or lean into it or something. But all he could do was watch Maya. “My room’s a double.”

“Good for you.”

The hand stayed for a few moments more. “I’ll tell Maya it’s time for bed.” The hand went away. His shoulder was cold.

He kept drawing little circles on Pearl’s shoulder.

Edgeworth moved out into the small cluster of people. Maya grinned and grabbed his hand. Spinning around him with that brilliantly bright smile of hers.

Edgeworth let her but he could see his mouth moving. Maya looked over to him. Waved. His arms were leaden exhaustion but he raised one to weakly wave back anyway.

She turned back to Edgeworth. Spoke animatedly. Punched him in the shoulder.

Began skipping over. Edgeworth slowly trailing behind.

“Nick! Guess what!”

“Hm?”

“Edgeworth said we can stay in his room! We get to stay here! In the crazy nice hotel!”

“The office is literally next door.”

“A mattress! With like thousand count sheets! Instead of that busted old couch! Come on Nick!”

“The couch isn’t busted.” Edgeworth leaned down to touch Pearl- pick her up probably.

He growled.

Maya’s eyes went wide. He covered his bared teeth. Edgeworth stopped and watched him.

“Sorry.”

Miles levered himself back to standing. Pushing up on his knees. “Come on Wright. Time for bed.”

The bags under his eyes had a physical weight to them. He tried to pick Pearl up without waking her. She made a small sound and cuddled into his shoulder. Dragged his body upward. To standing.

Maya tucked herself into his side. He put his arm around her shoulder. Tried not to make obvious how much he was leaning on her for support.

Edgeworth held open the door for them. Maya barreled in. Belly flopping onto the mattress. Rubbing her face all over the blankets as she rolled in them.

“Nick these are SO nice!”

The door closed behind Edgeworth. He heard the lock softly click. Watched Edgeworth slide the gold door chain lock into place. Step back. He stared at the lock for a few moments more.

Was that really enough? What if someone came in and took Maya again? Or Pearl this time? That tiny chain wouldn’t stop anyone. There had to be something more he could do-

“Wright.” Edgeworth. “We can put a chair in front, if it would make you feel better.”

Stupid Alpha. It’s fine.

He nodded anyway.

“AH HA!” Maya triumphantly announced. “The nest is done! Give me Pearly Nick!”

She’d already rearranged the blankets and pillows into a small nest pressed against the headboard. He walked over and handed Pearl, who blinked awake briefly as they passed her, over the fabric walls of the nest.

Maya curled around her. Wrapping Pearl up in her scent. Safe. They were safe.

Edgeworth jammed the door with a chair. He paced the outline of the room. Listened to Maya and Pearl purr.

Safe. They were safe.

The water turned on briefly in the bathroom. The purring began to stutter and fault as they fell asleep.

He paced the length of the room.

The bathroom door opened. Edgeworth stepped out in a set of pink pajamas. Neck bare. Some other night he would have enjoyed that.

“You’re going to wear a tread into the carpet.” He warned. Watching him pace. Back and forth. “Either get in the nest with them or lay down.”

“I can’t.” I have to protect them.

Stupid stupid alpha. They’re fine.

“Wright.” Edgeworth cut his path off. A hand pressing into his chest. “Your pack is safe. Close your eyes and breathe in.” He ordered.

He resisted. For a moment. Edgeworth’s face, as hard as always, did not waver.

He closed his eyes and breathed.

Maya. Pearl. Contentment.

Safe.

He fell forward into Edgeworth. The man effortlessly supported his weight.

It was faint under the fresh change of clothes and whatever blocker it was he used. But it was still there. That scent like warm blankets fresh from the dryer.

“At least get in the bed before you collapse on me.” He complained, maneuvering them to the spare bed.

“I’m still mad at you.” He mumbled into his shoulder. They flopped down onto covers. He stayed half on top. One leg slotted between Miles’. Nose pressed to his beautifully bare neck.

“Save that for tomorrow morning.” A hand was carding through his hair. A quiet rumble pushing up through Miles chest into his. “For now, just rest.”

Finally. He slept.

He woke up alone. Well. Not alone. Maya and Pearl slept on in the bed next to him. But Edgeworth was gone.

He listened to the shower run.

Here. Not totally gone.

He burrowed further into the blankets and tried not to growl.

Couldn’t even let me have this Edgeworth? Couldn’t even let me have one morning where I wake up with you in my arms and knew for sure that you’re safe and alive?

He buried his face in the stupid pillows. Chased after that barely there scent.

Asshole.

The second time he woke up the room smelled like breakfast. To Maya jumping right onto him.

“Breakfast! Room service! Nick!”

“Ooof!’ He groaned in protest. “Ooow. Get off me!”

She laughed and scrambled off him. Towards the small table lined with food.

Edgeworth sat on the couch. No bed head in sight. Brushing Pearls hair as she ate.

Your pack is safe.

“Wright you should hurry if you want breakfast. I doubt Maya has any qualms about cleaning the remaining plates.”

“I do not!”

He rolled out of bed with a groan and shuffled over to the table.

“If you’re trying to bribe your way to forgiveness,” He took a bite of the quiche. Stopped. Savored it. That was good. “… It won’t work.” He finished, far less certain than when he’d began.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Stood. Grabbed a pastry. Stared at him as he shoved another bite in.

“… What?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” He scolded. His hand came up. Carded through his limp spikes. Arranging them back into position.

He froze. Stuck between irritation and the almost overwhelming urge to lean in.

The hand disappeared. Taking jacket on the chair behind him and pulling it on.

“Have a good day.”

“You’re going to work?!”

He glanced back over his shoulder at them. One eyebrow raised. “Yes?”

“… Have a good day.”

There were phone calls across the ocean. He’d drift off to the sounds of Miles readying for the day.

“When are you coming home?” He mumbled, half asleep into his pillow. Listening to Miles put on his cravat for a new day.

He imagined instead he was listening to Miles take it off. Neck bare. So he could lay down in the bed next to him. Warm, sleepy and he’d snuggle into the softest fleece. Purring.

“… Do you need me to?” Was the soft reply. The rustling halting.

“I miss you.”

“… I miss you too.”

It wasn’t just that Iris looked so familiar. It wasn’t just that she felt familiar.

She smelled familiar too. Like that sweet omega he’d loved.

That had betrayed him.

Her hood. It smelled just like her. He pressed the cloth to his nose and inhaled it.

Really it just made everything that much more confusing.

“Wright.”

Edgeworth?

“You’re alive.”

At the door to his hospital room stood a man in a rumpled jacket with deep bruises under his eyes. Ruffles disheveledly ruffled around his neck.

Edgeworth.

“Yeah I’m,” A cough interrupted him. “Not that easy to get rid of.”

The chair next to his bed was pulled out. Edgeworth did not sit perfectly straight in it. His elbows rested on his knees and he leaned in close.

“Larry said you fell off a bridge and drowned.” A low rumble- a growl? Nah. Edgeworth wouldn’t growl. That’d be improper. He giggled at the notion. “I’m going to strangle that man with his own sleeves.”

“No that parts true.” Edgeworth looked upset. “It was only a little on fire.”

Because there hadn’t been much bridge left.

Edgeworth got even paler. He didn’t think his reassurance worked.

“Why would you-” There was a strangled sound.

The bridge.

Maya!

“Maya! She’s still trapped over there!” How had he forgotten? She was trapped over there and it was so cold out and they didn’t have food and- “I have to go help her!” He started to untangle himself from the stupid tangle of blankets.

“I’ll make sure it’s handled Wright.” A hand was on his shoulder. Slowing him down. “Lay down.”

He believed him. Let that hand start guiding him back down when. “Iris.”

“What?”

He twisted towards his laptop. “Iris. She not. I know she didn’t do it. I have to-“ Something stuck in his throat as he twisted and that urge to cough became unbearable. He curled forward and hacked. Coughing and coughing and coughing and he couldn’t stop to breathe in and when he tried there was something there and no air would come in and he was so scared he wouldn’t be able to and Maya and Iris and poor little Pearl-

The bed creaked but he only felt it depress under him over the sound of his own coughing. Warmth blanketed his back and then the rumbling started. Deep and strong it vibrated through the whole of his chest.

He hacked once more and something dislodged. Inhaled. Fresh air filled his burning lungs. He coughed a few more times and tasted slimy mucus on the back of his tongue.

“Ew.” He complained, hand blindly searching for the tissues.

One appeared in his hand and he spit the snot into it. The rumbling did not stop and he eased back into it.

Edgeworth’s arms were wrapped around his chest. His legs splayed out on either side of the bed. His chest was warm and vrring soothingly like hum of a car engine.

He leaned back into it and tucked his forehead into the junction of Miles jaw and neck. Shivering despite the blankets and hood. Despite his warmth.

“I can’t smell you.” He whined. Nose clogged. “You used to smell so good.” Like. Like blankets still warm from the dryer. He wanted burrow into them and wrap himself up in that scent.

“Used to huh?” The motor slowed to half a hum.

“Noooo. Don’t stop. It helps.” He could breathe. The urge to hack out a lung made distant by Miles soft engine.

“Ngh.” The vibration stuttered and restarted.

He drifted there. Tucked into Miles shoulder. Drifting back towards sleep.

“Iris.” He snapped open his eyes and grabbed for the laptop again. “I need-“

Miles pinned him back to his chest with one firm hand. “To sleep.”

“No- No she’s innocent. I know she didn’t do it. I have to. I have to clear her name.”

“Well you’re not going anywhere in this condition Wright.”

Gods. He just need a second body. One that wasn’t ill. That could go investigate for him.

Oh. He had an idea.

“Miles.” The rumbling stuttered and then roared and he could physically feel the sound vibrating through their chests. He tried to angle his head to look at Edgeworth but he’d bowed it and his face was hidden by a curtain of hair. “I need a favor.”

“What now Wright?”

He reached over to the side table again but grabbed something else instead.

“Take this?”

One of the hands around his chest released, palm up.

He set the golden defense attorney’s badge in it.

“W- and do what with this?”

“The rumbles!” He complained about their sudden stopping.

“No I’m not going to purr myself into being alright with this- I’m a prosecutor not a defense attorney!”

“Yeah. I know. A brilliant one. Please. I need you to defend Iris for me.”

“I can hire someone to defend her for you but I can’t just-“

“NO! It has to be you!” He tried to twist in Edgeworth’s grip to plead with him directly. The grip around his ribs tightened. Making it impossible. “You care about stuff. Please. You’re the only one I’d trust with this.”

Miles head tucked into the crook of his neck. His arms shaking.

“I know you can do this. Please Miles.”

His hand closed around the badge and the rest was history.

“Wooh bro you should lay back down.”

He glared at Larry – Laurice – from where he’d fallen from the bed.

Okay so he wasn’t quite as stable as he thought yet. But he was good enough. He could go investigate.

Larry picked him up by the armpits and dragged him back off the floor onto the mattress. “Just let Edgey handle it. Your mate did great today!” Thumbs up.

“My what?! Larry! We’re not!” His face was definitely bright red and not from the lingering fever.

Larry blinked at him. Tilted his head and crossed his arms. “You sure man? Cause you smell hella claimed.”

“Don’t you think I’d know if we were?” (Besides how would we? He keeps running away.)

“Hmm, I don’t know. You’re not always the brightest bulb in the six pack.”

(What does that even mean? And I don’t want to hear that coming from you!)

“I mean he flew halfway around the world to check on you.”

“What? No he said he was already here for work.”

Pity. Why was Larry looking at him with pity?

“Well whatever cuddle party you two had,” He interjected. “That was just because I couldn’t breathe!” Larry ignored him. “You stink. You’re all sickness and distressed omega. You need a shower.”

“I’m not an omega.”

“Didn’t say you were bro.”

The shower was nice. He felt significantly more human after. The steam even cleared his nose for a bit.

It clogged back up by the time he finished getting dressed but it had been nice to breathe clearly while it lasted.

“How could I have done that..?”

Still beating himself up over letting Iris run away during the earthquake it seemed.

“Edgeworth?”

“Aaah!” He jumped and turned like he was going to make a break for it over the fence.

“Hey! Don’t you dare run away!”

He was so sick of Miles running.

He grit his teeth. Held himself. But turned back to him all the same.

“What do you want Wright?”

“What do I want?”

“If you came here to laugh at me, then get on with it. Go on. Laugh.”

(Edgeworth…)

He sighed.

Pulled his hands out of his jacket.

“Fine.” He stepped forward. The snow crunched under his feet. “Come here.”

Miles was nothing but sharp edges and tension when he wrapped his arms around him.

“W-what are you…?”

“You’re stronger than you think. So stop it with all the self-pity okay?”

Between the frigid cold and the cold he still couldn’t smell anything. But he didn’t have to have a working nose to soothe with his own scent. You’re Safe. Loved. Protected.

He wasn’t sure it was working.

Not until Miles melted like spring snow into his arms. Nose tucked into the space between his jacket and scarf.

“I’m sorry for letting her get away.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He ran his fingers through the soft strands of his grey hair.

“I’m still sorry.”

“Then you’re forgiven.”

Miles sighed into his jacket. Squeezed him back. “You’re ridiculous Wright.”

“… You went back to the criminal affairs department right? Because you wanted to look into something about Iris?”

His jacket was released and both stepped back. Not that he wanted to. “Yes. I thought I had seen her before, in court. So I went back and looked.”

“What’d you find?”

His cheek ached. The imprint of Pearls hand turning it red.

Edgeworth squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll handle the girls. Take your time.”

He sent a grateful smile back. Squeezed the hand on his shoulder in return.

“Mr. Edgeworth?” Iris called after him, as he was halfway out the door. “I wanted to thank you for your advice.”

Edgeworth’s lips were a tight line. He nodded.

“I think maybe it’s time you took it yourself.”

“Huh?” He looked between them.

“… I’ll take it under consideration.”

The door closed behind him. “What was that about?” He asked her.

“That’s the Edgeworth you always used to talk about right Feenie?”

Feenie.

Swallowed glass.

It dug into his throat.

“Yeah. I guess.”

“I’m glad you found him at long last.”

“Y-yeah I,” He looked up at her and stopped. What was that expression? Wait. “Hold it! We’re not!” He slammed his hands down on the table. “Not together!”

She smiled. Tittered. “Okay, okay. I believe you Feenie.”

“… Could you not…?”

Her eyes widened. Head tilted down. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

“No- its fine.”

They both stared at their hands for a while.

“I know it doesn’t mean much now but… I really did love you. I wanted you to be happy. I still do. So… Even if you hate me…”

Hating you would be easy. It wouldn’t have hurt so much if I hadn’t loved you.

“I’m really glad you found each other. I know that omega really loves you.”

“…” He lifted his head to frown at her. “Maya’s like a sister to me.”

Her eyes widened- gods he could see Pearls in that motion. Morphed into a weak smile. Like they’d just shared a joke that had stopped being funny years ago. One that left her a happy recollection but was mostly sad. “You never had a very good nose did you?”

He almost argued Yeah I still have a head cold from falling in the Eagle River thanks. But he stopped. Searched her.

“… No. I guess not.”

Maya and Edgeworth were speaking in hushed tones in the waiting lobby. Pearly bounced over to him with a can of juice in her hand. He smiled and they neared them together.

“He’s already done far too much for me.” Edgeworth with that worrying self-sacrificial tone.

“Yeah I really don’t think he’d mind.” Maya with a cheeky one.

“Mind what?” He asked.

They both jumped.

“Nothing.” Edgeworth might have said. It was drowned out by Maya’s, “NOTHING!”

And then the sliding of locks over their hearts.

“… I still have the magatama on me.” He warned both of them.

“It isn’t my secret! Pearly and I are taking the bus home! Good night!”

They both watched her go.

Real natural Maya.

“So.”

Edgeworth gripped his elbow and turned away. “It’s not something you need to concern yourself with.”

“Yeah well, too bad. I’m already concerned so save us both some time and just tell me.”

He mumbled something that was definitely not meant to be audible. He leaned in and cupped his ear. “What?”

“I’m in pre-heat! There! Does that satisfy you?” Edgeworth snapped. Face bright red as he glared down at him.

Oh.

Um. “Anything I can do to help?”

“No.” He looked away again but the flush on his cheeks remained. “Franziska has already made it clear she is willing to aid me,” He forced down the irritation that bubbled up. They were siblings. She’d probably helped him through plenty. Somehow that made it worse. “And worst case I can always ask Larry again.”

Again? The growl broke free. He stepped forward. “You asked Larry before me?!”

Edgeworth blinked blankly at him. “Wha- He helped me through the last one I had in LA yes. Why are you?” Miles took a step back into the wall. He matched it.

“Why Larry and not me?! After everything you’d choose Larry over me?!”

“That’s not-”

He couldn’t smell the pre-heat yet but this close he could smell Miles every time he dragged a breath in around his teeth.

“You should have asked Me!”

Miles looked a little dazed where he pressed against the cement brick walls. “I-I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Yes the alpha growl was still rumbling through his vocal cords and throat. It was impolite. But he couldn’t stop it. Larry. Larry got to be there for Miles. Got to share his nest and hold him and- and-

Miles gaze kept flicking away but the growl, his demand for attention, always drew it back. “Because it wouldn’t have been platonic with you.”

The growl died.

You smell hella claimed dude.

“I’m sorry. I swear I don’t mean for this to change anything. I just. I can’t share a heat with you. I can’t pretend like I won’t try and jump you.” He squeezed his eyes tight. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I don’t want to do that to you.”

That omega really loves you.

He touched the hand digging into Miles elbow. Watched the heartbreaking spasm of pain across his face. “What if I want you to?”

“…” Miles eyes blinked open. Studied him. Confused. “What?”

He moved in a breath closer. A mere inch or two between them. He could feel Edgeworth’s body heat. Smell that comforting scent like fresh blankets pulled from the dryer.

And something else. Something that made his mouth water.

“What if I want you to jump me? Want to share a heat non-platonically?”

Cause really, the idea he could share a heat platonically with Edgeworth was absurd. Frankly it hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“W-wha- Then I…” He pressed up against him. One hand pushing him into the wall. The other caging him in. He watched Miles groan, eyes fuzzy as his hardening bulge pressed into his hip. “Think we should continue this conversation elsewhere.”

Oh. He glanced around at the waiting room. “Yeah okay. That’s fair.”

“This seems wildly unnecessary.” He complained laying on the office couch. Phone pressed to his ear.

“I will not have either of us rushing into this simply because my hormones are making us…”

“Too horny?”

“Please Wright.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay so what. We’re supposed to like. Share medical history? I had a test after my last partner. I’m clean. I can probably figure out how to email that to you.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I can’t actually review it right now. I’d send you mine but…”

“Wooh do you actually have something?”

“No! I’m clean. I just. Can’t use my laptop right now. And I’d really rather not have Franziska digging through my medical history.”

“Why not?”

“Why don’t I want Franziska digging through my medical history?”

“Why can’t you use your laptop?”

The line crackled. “Ah. I have quite bad light sensitivity during pre-heat. And occasionally during.”

“Does that mean you’re buried under a pile of blankets right now?”

The silence was telling.

Aww.

“Shut up Wright.” He could almost see the blush tinging his cheeks. “I also want to make it clear you may leave at any time. Just let Franziska or Larry know if I become too much for you.”

“Yeah I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

“Wright.”

“Okay, okay. Promise.”

“Additionally, it’s a stress heat and I’m on birth control so you needn’t worry about that.”

“Yeah I figured. Neither of us exactly seem ready for pups.”

There was a drawn out exhale. “Uh… What else?”

“You okay over there?”

“I’m fine. It’s just. Getting hard to focus.”

His fingers clenched around the phone. I should be there. With you. Not Franziska.

“Don’t growl at me.”

“Sorry. Is that a rule during or just-”

“Just. Right now.”

“Right. Um. No on mating bites?”

“I’m not… opposed. But I agree it wouldn’t be wise.”

Not opposed? He could sink his teeth into the back of Edgeworth’s neck and claim him and keep him. He could almost feel Edgeworth’s teeth sinking into him. Mine. Mine. Mine.

He exhaled and ground the heel of his palm against his trousers. “Fuck.”

There was a quiet whine on the other side. “Behave Wright.” Came the weak protest.

“Sorry. Uh. Boundaries?”

“No derogatory language. At least at the start.” Yeah okay. “And… don’t call me perfect or any iteration there in.”

“Huh? But-”

“That one’s a hard rule. Please.”

“…” Perfect. Perfection.

Von Karma.

“Yeah. Got it.”

“Hm… I can’t think of anything else. Sorry. I haven’t spent a great deal of time thinking about this.”

“Well that makes one of us.”

“… Did you even know I was an omega?”

“Well. No. That wasn’t. What I meant.”

“I see. Yes well.” He coughed. “Fantasy is one thing. The actual mechanics are another. What are yours?”

“My fantasies?”

“Boundaries.” Miles deadpan replied.

“Oh um. Don’t threaten to kill me?”

“That may be difficult depending on how irritating you are in bed.”

“Ha. Ha. Uh… Don’t convince me I’m dating you when it’s actually your secret twin?”

“… Wright are you sure you’re up for this?”

“Yeah no I’m totally fine.” He laughed nervously. “I mean that happened years ago.”

“And you just got closure yesterday.”

“I’m fine. It’s just fresh on my mind. I really do want this.”

“This won’t be my last heat Wright. There’s always next time.”

“Edgeworth. I’m sure.”

“… Alright.” There was the distant sound of Franziska yelling. The phone was muffled as Edgeworth yelled back a reply. “… Anything else?”

Swallowed glass.

“Don’t… Call me Feenie?”

“Why would I call you that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well. I won’t.” There was a pause. “Anything else?”

“I got nothing.”

“Well. If you’re still certain-”

“I am.”

“Don’t interrupt.” He rolled his eyes. Sorry. “You may ask Franziska for the address.”

“You’re not just going to tell me?”

“I’d prefer to give you a few minutes to attempt to think this over. She won’t respond until she’s done at very least.”

“As much as that annoys me I guess that means we won’t run into each other. Little victories.”

“Quite. Alright. Then… See you soon Wright.”

“Phoenix?”

“… See you soon. Phoenix.”

Yeah. This was going to be all right.

Miles apartment was nice. Really nice. Like someone might call the police on him for being here levels of nice.

It was kinda nerve wracking.

Then there’s the multi paragraph directions Franziska sent him. Where the fridge was. Where the food was. What he should order as takeout during if they need more and exactly what exactly he should order.

Where the laundry was. How to run it. How often he needed to change them out or else she’ll whip him for mistreating her brother.

Strongly worded reminders about how he is to make sure Miles is eating and drinking because he hates to eat during heat and-

It’s a lot.

But he pushes open the bedroom door- even he can smell the cloying scent of Miles drawing him in – and the room is empty. A neat bed perfectly made. An open bathroom door. Curtains drawn over the windows.

A pile of water bottles, blankets and towels right next to the closet door along with a laptop, plugged in.

“Edgeworth?” He tries. “Miles?”

“If your nose is still running you should grab some tissues before entering.” Came the response from behind the closed closet door.

He picked a box up off the nightstand and knelt down next to it. “Uh… Omega can I come in?”

“This isn’t porn Wright.” The door cracked open. Edgeworth’s back to him. His head covered by one of Franziska’s blouses. “I hope you don’t expect anything exciting. My head hurts and I just want to sleep.”

He slowly climbed in. It was a beautiful nest. With soft canopy ceilings that must have been attached to the clothing rack and a plush mattress floor covered in soft blankets and towels. The walls intricately weaved together.

“Fuck. Miles its perfect.” Shit. “Sorry.” Messing up right at the gate.

“Yes, It is. Franziska made it.”

“Wha- wait what really? But she’s an alpha.” Although. It did definitely smell like her. He sat down on the floor and stared up. Admiring the handwork. The smell was only… a minor irritant.

Okay it was super annoying. But soon enough it would smell like the two of them and it wouldn’t matter.

“Close the door Wright.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“I don’t know how to make nests. Franziska’s always made them for me. Or Larry, that one time.”

“Really? Isn’t it supposed to be instinctive?” A small noise escaped him. “I mean there’s all those tutorials online, right? Maya even made me help her a few times.”

“I could learn. I choose not to. It’d would never be as nice.”

“Why not?”

“… Because I’d have made it.” A growl built in the back of his throat. “Will you lay down?”

He did. “You’d make a great nest Edgeworth. You’re great at pretty much everything you try.”

“Paper cranes.” Well shit. He remembered all those crumpled pieces of paper. Edgeworth’s tear stained face as another one crumpled into recognizable garbage. “Even if I became a master I would only see the imperfections. It’s better for me if someone else makes them.”

Miles rolled over and tucked himself into his chest. Into the sweatshirt he’d pulled on for the trip over. In the darkness he reached out and found the soft grey hair of his head. Stroked it. “Yeah. I guess that makes sense.”

A purr started. He yawned. Alright. He was more tired than he thought.

He nestled into the nest and let Miles purr carry him off.

#wrightworth #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #writing #one day i'm going to finish this #and its partner piece

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